Dark Hearts. Sharon Sala

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      “Hello. I’m checking on the condition of Trina Jakes and the visiting times.”

      “She’s in critical condition and can’t have visitors.”

      “But we go to church with her and we wanted to—”

      “No visitors. I’m sorry.”

      He disconnected with a measure of relief. For now she wasn’t talking, but, damn it, she was still alive. He’d come so close to a perfect sweep, and now this. His first thought was to pack and run, and then it hit him.

      “What the hell’s wrong with me?” he muttered. “Even if she never wakes up, even if she dies, they’ll still be looking for a killer, and I’ll be the one who left town right after the shootings.”

      Right now he had to deal with more immediate issues, so he began to run through scenarios as to how to rectify this mess. He needed to make sure she never woke up, but how to get to her? He would bet his life there were guards on her around the clock. Trey Jakes wasn’t a fool. His sister was his star witness—if she lived.

      But even if he couldn’t get to Trina’s room, he could still get to the hospital. It could catch fire. It could blow up. There were all kinds of things that could happen in such a volatile environment. The fact that many more lives would be lost was of no consequence. They would be nothing but collateral damage.

      * * *

      It was beginning to rain as Trey left the parking lot and headed back into the hospital. Lee’s text stated ICU visiting hours were from 10:00 a.m. to noon, from 2:00 p.m. to 4:00, and from 6:00 p.m. to 8:00. Tough. Even though it was midnight, he wanted to see his sister’s face.

      He took the elevator up to the third floor and was on his way to the ICU waiting room when Lee stepped out into the hall.

      “I was just coming to look for you,” Lee said.

      “Why? Did something happen? Is she worse?”

      “No, but we aren’t going to get to see her until tomorrow.”

      “No, we’re going to see her now, even if I have to throw my weight around to do it,” Trey said.

      Lee shoved a shaky hand through his hair. There was something he needed to say to Trey before this day got any older.

      “Wait a second, okay? Before we go in, I need to apologize to you.”

      Trey frowned. “Why?”

      “For being such an ass...for hurting Trina like I did. It all had to do with shit from my childhood, but that’s no excuse, because I’m no longer a child. I apologized to her at the memorial service. We were going to meet tomorrow and talk.” Lee’s voice was starting to shake. “When I think of how close she came to not having a tomorrow, it makes me sick. I love her, Trey. So much. I’m with her for the long haul and, if she’ll have me, for the rest of our lives.”

      Trey had new respect for Lee. Those words couldn’t have been easy to get said.

      “I appreciate your honesty, man. Now let’s go see our girl. She might not know we’re there, but I need to know she’s still breathing.”

      Lee managed a brief smile and walked with Trey to ICU. It was two minutes after midnight when they entered. Lights were on, and nurses were moving in and out of the patients’ rooms. Trey paused at the front desk.

      “Which room is Trina Jakes in?” he asked.

      Clarice Powell, the RN on duty, was about to send the man packing when she looked up.

      “Oh, hello, Chief. You know this is past visiting hours.”

      “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

      She was sympathetic to all his family had been through, and wasn’t about to push the issue.

      “Your sister is in 12B.”

      “Thank you, Clarice, and to give you a heads-up, she’s going to have to have guards around the clock and a no-visitors sign on her door. No one except for immediate family. I’ll give you a list of names.”

      “Dr. Lowell told us. We’ll take care of her, and we’re very sorry for your loss. Your mother was a good friend to everyone who knew her,” she said.

      “Thank you, Clarice. Oh...just so you know, this is Lee Daniels. He’s Trina’s significant other, so he’ll be in and out as much as the rest of us, okay?”

      Clarice eyed Lee closely. “I know you from somewhere.”

      “I work for Peterson Heat and Air.”

      “Right! You worked on my central air last May.”

      “Yes, ma’am,” Lee said. “You said 12B?”

      “That way,” she said, as she pointed to her left.

      They started down the aisle, trying not to stare at the patients inside the glass-walled cubicles. The beeping of so many heart monitors accompanied them down the hall. Between the steady stream of nurses moving in and out of rooms and the occasional groan or cry for help from someone sick or dying, it was a depressing place to be.

      The last time Trey had been in a place with this many seriously ill patients was the VA hospital right after they’d flown Sam stateside. He wondered about the PTSD that had haunted Sam for so long and if this place would trigger a flashback. He’d witnessed a couple of them during the first year Sam was home, and they’d given him pause. They’d also helped him understand why Sam had chosen to stay away. At that time in his life, he could easily have hurt someone he loved.

      But while Trey was lost in thought, Lee was looking for the woman he loved.

      “There!” Lee said, and lengthened his stride as he darted into the next bay.

      Then he stopped just inside the doorway, too stunned to go farther, as Trey hurried past him. Trina was as pale as the sheet on which she was lying, and hooked up to a half-dozen machines. He didn’t know which ones were keeping her alive and which ones were monitoring her vital signs. The room looked like a lab scene from a bad movie. He couldn’t think. He forgot to breathe.

      Trey, on the other hand, had seen her covered in blood and been sure she was dead. The fact that he could hear her heartbeat made all of this reassuring.

      The nurse who had just finished checking Trina’s vitals and was adjusting the drip on the IV heard footsteps behind her. She turned and quickly recognized Trey.

      “Hello, Chief. Really sorry about your mother.”

      “Hi, Annie. We’re all sorry about Mom. Our gift is that Trina is still alive. How’s she doing?” he asked.

      “Holding her own,” she said.

      Lee took a breath and moved closer. Those were the words he needed to hear.

      “Annie, this is Lee Daniels. Lee, Annie Dixon. Annie and I grew up together.”

      “Nice СКАЧАТЬ