The Dangerous Curves Series

Chapter 64

Jax was sitting and drinking a cup of bad coffee when King and Noah showed up the next morning. Annie was still sleeping on the sofa, curled up under Jax’s leather jacket, and Mac was down the hall talking to Doctor Innis. Jax had tried to get some sleep, but he’d failed miserably. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Sarah’s wrecked face, her broken body, and he felt a kind of rage that he hadn’t known in fourteen years.

Jesus Christ… when I get my hands on that fucker, he’s dead.

“Jax, Jax, Jax!”

“Hey, Noah. How was it this morning with King?”

“He’s very good at breakfast. He was perfect.”

“Was he?” Jax grinned at the thought of King pouring juice into a colorful plastic cup. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“How are things here?” King asked.

“Don’t know.” Jax nodded at Mac’s back. “We’re about to find out.”

“You get any sleep?”

“Some,” Jax said.

“Uh-huh.” King rolled his eyes. “You used to be a better liar, man.”

“Lying is wrong,” Noah informed them. “Sarah says so.”

“Sarah’s right,” King said. “She’s a smart girl, your sister.”

“Yes. Is she coming home today?”

“Not today,” Jax said, making an effort to sound unconcerned. “We’ll talk to the doctor about how she’s doing.”

“Doctor Mac?”

“Both doctors,” Jax said.

Annie stirred on the sofa, and turned over. She sat straight up when she saw the men standing there. “What time is it?”

“Just past nine,” Jax said.

“Sarah?”

“No news yet. They’re coming now.”

She got to her feet, straightened her clothing. Mac and Sam walked over now, and nobody could miss the grave looks on their faces. Jax’s heart tightened in his chest.

Oh, f**k. No, no, no. Sarah, please come back to me. Come on, doll, you can do this.

“Hi,” Doctor Innis said. “Shall we sit?”

“Noah,” Annie said. “You do some puzzles, OK? I’ll be right back.”

Noah nodded and rummaged in his backpack. The rest of them moved down the hall a little way, and Annie sat on the sofa, her legs weak. She had a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she knew that it was fear. The kind of fear that could either kill her or make her stronger, and unfortunately, at this moment, she was barely breathing.

“Tell us,” she said. “No sugar-coating it.”

“OK,” Sam paused. “She hasn’t responded to the drugs.”

“At all?” she said.

“No. Not at all.”

“What does that mean?”

“We try new drugs.”

“And then?” Jax said.

“We wait.”

“That’s it?” Annie asked. “Drugs and we wait some more?”

“Annie,” Mac said. “Brain injuries are all about time. Time to heal, time to let things work themselves out.”

“How much time?” she said.

“That part nobody knows.” Mac sighed. “Every single case is unique. I’ve seen thousands of people in Sarah’s current state, and I can’t even give you a guess of what might happen.”

“So – what?” Jax said. “We just sit around here, waiting for her to wake up? Or not?”

“Yes.” Mac held his eyes. “That’s exactly what we do, man.”

“Christ,” Jax said. “Well, I don’t accept that, OK? If it’s about money, I’ll pay. I’ll pay whatever it costs to get her different treatment. Some f*****g wonder drug, maybe. You got one of those, doc?”

“No,” Mac said quietly. “Sorry.”

“Fuck.” Jax turned and stalked down the hallway. His rage was finally overwhelming him after keeping it in check for hours, and he had to get out, get away. He barrelled down the stairs, not interested in waiting for the elevator, and he burst outside. The autumn chill was refreshing and it cleared his head, but that wasn’t a good thing. It made his thoughts sharper, more painful – and that made him more angry.

Jax leaned back against the brick wall next to the ambulance bay, trying to calm his breathing. All he could think about was finding Dave and putting him in a coma. And that would be if the fucker was lucky.

It was all building inside him now, and he gritted his teeth, fighting to contain the roar rising in his chest. The rage got bigger, wider, heavier, and Jax knew it had to go somewhere, and soon.

Without a single conscious thought, he whirled, hauled back, punched the wall. The pain shot down his whole arm, but he didn’t care. He pulled back, punched again. Again. Again. The wall was splattered with red now, and people were passing by and commenting, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to stop.