I lean down to his face. “Tuck, can you hear me?”
His lashes flutter. He swallows and nods. “I love you, Francesca. I’ll love our little girl. I’ll be the best ...” And then he’s gone, his eyes closing.
I’m pacing the ER waiting room when the doctor comes out and heads our way.
Gianna, Valentina, Cece, and Darden are with me. Brogan has called a few times to check in. Jasper has already been treated, his arm in a sling. He’s currently slouching in one of the hard chairs in the waiting room.
We’ve been here for two hours to see how Tuck is. We followed the ambulance to the hospital as soon as he was taken away.
They all walk with me as we meet the doctor halfway.
He smiles. “Hi, all. I’m Dr.Milson, and I’ve been in charge of Mr.Avery’s care. It seems he has a lot of family.”
“He does,” I say. “Tell me how he is, please.” Now. Look at me. I’m in charge.
He does. “Well, the MRI is good. No trauma to the brain, but he does have a serious concussion. Mr.Avery mentioned a pain in his ankle, and after a scan, we saw a fracture on his fibula.”
Dammit. Two injuries. I frown.
Darden points his cane at Jasper. “You broke his moneymaker!”
The doctor shakes his head. “It’s a minor fracture, but it will need to heal. I’d like to keep him overnight for monitoring.” He goes on totell me he’ll need to see a sports orthopedist for more detail about his ankle, and I nod, my head racing as I take notes mentally.
“Is he awake?” I ask.
“We gave him pain meds, and he’s resting.” He gives us a sweeping glance. “He’s lucky it wasn’t worse. From what I understand, most of his weight hit Jasper.” Dr.Milson smiles at Jasper, clearly a fan.
“That’s me!” Jasper says. “See, I might have screwed up, but I saved him!”
“You pushed him, moron,” Cece corrects, and he pouts.
He huffs. “I’ve explained it a hundred times. I was trying to protect him from losing his temper. I got clumsy.” He moves to cross his arms, then growls when he realizes he can’t. “And I’m thirsty. Cece, can you go get me some juice or soda? Pretty please.”
I turn back to the doctor. “Anything else I should know?”
“After his release, watch for unusual behavior, vomiting, or severe headaches. He needs to rest mentally and physically. The ankle will take a little longer. Before he goes, I’ll give you a packet on how to treat it.”
“He was already sick before he fell,” I say. “Did you check him out for that?”
The doctor smiles broadly. “Ah, yes, he has a phobia of needles and was experiencing agitation after getting a tattoo.”
Jasper snorts. “Pining. The man was pining.”
I look at him. “What tattoo? Why are you just now telling us?!”
Jasper smiles knowingly. “’Cause it’s not my story to tell.”
“How romantic,” Cece says on a sigh. “He’s deathly afraid of clowns and needles. Francesca, I’m wondering if you need a new baby daddy. Tuck is scared of a lot.”
I shake my head. “But ... why would he get one?”
Jasper winces. “There was bourbon involved beforehand and a story about how if you’d had fifty dates, would he get a tattoo of you on his body. Apparently, he said never. Then the more we drank, a grand ideawas born. He wanted to prove he’s in this with you.” Jasper looks at my stomach.
“Would you like to see him?” the doctor asks me. “We’ve moved him to a VIP room.”
Hospitals have VIP rooms?
I nod quickly and follow him on the elevator to the fifth floor. He tells me the room number, and I walk inside. It’s dim, lit by a lamp from the desk illuminating the area. His large frame rests on the white bed. His ankle is elevated and wrapped, and his head is bandaged.