Page 44 of A Burning Rage

I can feel Cooper’s worried gaze on me. He’s not only worried about Shane, but about me, too.

We’re part of his family. Sam may have Cooper’s heart—and wears his wedding ring—but Shane and I are just as much a part of his life. Cooper’s parents disowned him when he was a teenager, the moment they learned he was gay. He never reconciled with them.

Cooper can’t bear to lose Shane any more than I can.

Chapter 16 – Cooper

Shane seems to have stabilized—at least there have been no more drops in his blood pressure. I assume—hope—that means there’s no more internal bleeding. It’s a good sign they moved him here to the ICU. Every step forward means it’s more likely he’ll survive, right?

I hope so because I can’t accept the alternative. I can’t imagine what it would do to Beth if he doesn’t make it. Hell, what it would do to the entire McIntyre family. I grew up a loner, with parents who hated me for who I was. I’ve never known the love and support of a family until I became friends with Shane. His family has adopted me as one of their own, and I know if the situation were different, if I were the one lying here in this bed, the McIntyres would rally around me, too.

The ICU room is a bit more comfortable for Beth. There’s a padded vinyl chair that reclines into a sort of makeshift bed. It’s unfolded now, and she’s asleep on it, covered by a thin blanket. The chair is close enough to the bed that she can reach out and touch Shane, something she does frequently, even in her sleep.

Visiting hours ended a good while ago, but so far no one has suggested we have to leave. We’ve been keeping a low profile, staying out of everyone’s way in the hopes they wouldn’t challenge us. There’s no way she’d agree to leave Shane’s side, and there’s no way in hell I’m forcibly removing her. I dare them to try it themselves.

Although he doesn’t flaunt it, Shane’s name carries a lot of weight in this town. He’s donated a small fortune over the years to local hospitals, and he’s on the board of directors for more than one organization. I think out of respect for Shane, they’re showing a lot of deference to his wife.

The machines keep tracking his vitals, beeping hour after hour. The sound has become steady background noise, and I hardly notice it anymore.

The sun is beginning to rise, light filtering through the window shades, when Beth begins to slowly awaken. She slept fitfully last night, waking frequently to check on Shane. I caught her more than once pressing her fingers to the pulse point on his wrist.

I asked a nurse last night when they’ll bring him out of sedation, and she said not until he’s out of the woods.

“What are they worried about?” I asked the young woman as she checked Shane’s bandages in the night.

“Infection,” she whispered, probably trying not to wake Beth. “And it’s possible they might have to perform surgery on him again.”

As sunlight slowly lightens the room, Beth opens her eyes. With a groan, she converts her makeshift bed back into an upright position. She removes her hair tie and fingercombs her hair before pulling it back into a ponytail once more.

Without warning, she jumps up from her chair and hightails it to the bathroom. Even with the door shut, I can hear her heaving. She hasn’t had a lot to eat in the past twenty-four hours, so I doubt there’s much for her to throw up.

Still, morning sickness can do that to a person.

I hear the water running in the bathroom, and a few moments later she emerges.

“All right, young lady.” I rise from my chair and reach for the tote bag. “Enough is enough.”

As she resumes her seat, she casts me a confused look.

I pull the bag to me, unzip it, and withdraw a pregnancy test kit. “I found this in your bathroom cupboard.” I walk over to her and hand her the little blue and white box, which is still wrapped in plastic. “Go pee on a stick.”

She sighs. “Cooper, now is not the time.”

“It sure as hell is. No arguments, Beth. I mean it. Do it now.”

Her lips curve up in a hint of a smile. “You’re using your tough love dad voice.”

“I sure as hell am. You need to find out for sure. You know he’d want you to.”

With a frustrated huff, she grabs her phone, snatches the test kit out of my hand, and returns to the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind her.

I set a five-minute timer on my phone and watch the seconds tick by. Not long after my timer expires, the bathroom door opens and out she walks.

I don’t even need to ask her the results. It’s written all over her face—the uncertainty, the haunted gaze. I meet her halfway and open my arms.

She presses her face against my chest. “Cooper,” she says, her voice breaking.

I rub her back. “It’s going to be all right, sugar. Don’t worry.”