She’s alive. Mia’s alive.
That particular fact was astounding on more than one level, but Max knew he couldn’t think about that now. He’d figure everything out eventually. Right now, Mia needed him to take care of her medical needs. If he didn’t focus on that and only that…he’d totally lose it, and his famous Hamilton control would desert him completely.
Max moved as quickly as he could through the park, trying not to jostle the woman in his arms too much, Simon and Sam flanking him silently on each side. Kade was behind him, still on the phone, briskly directing emergency personnel to their location.
“I can carry her for a while,” Sam said quietly, putting his hand on Max’s shoulder to try to make him stop walking.
“No,” Max growled. It would be a cold day in hell before he relinquished his hold on her. He’d just gotten her back. He wasn’t letting her go. Shrugging off Sam’s hand, he kept moving.
“You can’t hang on to her until the ambulance gets here. It could take awhile.” Simon tried to reason with him.
“The hell I can’t,” Max answered harshly, his hold tightening on his woman involuntarily as he lengthened his stride. “She’s my wife. I’ll carry her as long as I need to.” He needed to keep her, needed to hold her.
He didn’t notice Sam and Simon’s astonished looks as they both gaped at him like he’d suddenly lost his mind.
“You think that’s Mia?” Sam asked, confused.#p#分页标题#e#
“It is Mia,” Max answered confidently.
“Max, she doesn’t look like Mia—”
Arriving at the parking lot, Max jerked his head around to look at Sam, telling him belligerently, “It’s her.” He knew his own wife. She smelled like Mia; she felt like Mia; she was Mia.
The woman in his arms began to stir just as Kade joined the three men. Sirens were wailing distantly, rapidly moving closer. “Ambulance is coming,” Kade muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets, his expression concerned as he looked at Max. “Max, I know you think that’s Mia, but you must know that she really isn’t.”
Max watched Mia’s eyes flutter open slowly, blinking like she was trying to focus her vision and looking around warily. “What happened? Why are you carrying me?” she rasped.
“You fell and hit your head, sweetheart,” Max answered softly.
“Can you put me down please?” she requested, squirming.
Scowling, he answered, “Not happening. You’re hurt.”
Irritated, she looked at her brother. “Kade, can you tell Max that I’m fine? Where did you get that horrible shirt? I think that’s worse than the one with the purple birds.” Her confused eyes moved over Simon and Sam. “Why are Simon and Sam here? Where the hell are we? Dammit! I feel like I got run over by a semi-truck.” She rested her head against Max’s shoulder and closed her eyes, no longer arguing about Max holding her, her lucid moment apparently over.
The four men all looked at one another, none of them moving as they stared at the female Max was holding.
“Holy shit,” Simon and Sam grumbled in unison.
Max’s heart accelerated, his mouth going dry. He found himself incapable of speech as he tried to wrap his mind around what was happening…and failed miserably.
Kade yanked the phone from his pocket and punched one of the buttons. Raising his voice to be heard over the sirens of the arriving ambulance, he shouted into the phone, “Travis? I need you to meet us at the hospital. We think we found Mia, and she’s alive.”
Maddie, Kara, and the rest of the guests for the picnic arrived, everyone talking at once as a paramedic hopped out of the ambulance and rushed over with the gurney. Max reluctantly laid Mia on the board that rested on top of the pristine sheet, but he gripped her hand and never let go. Ignoring the chaos around him, he followed wherever his wife was going. Hopping into the ambulance, he sat near her head and let the paramedic do his job, but he gripped her hand, squeezing it lightly, needing to keep the connection.
“Are you hurt, sir?” the brisk voice of the young medic asked.
The question barely penetrated the fog around Max’s brain. Slowly, he glanced down at his t-shirt, realizing he was covered in blood from Mia’s head wound.
“No,” he said huskily, shaking his head. “Not anymore.”
The perplexed young man in uniform looked at Max for a moment and shrugged, obviously convinced that the blood on Max belonged to Mia. Setting back to work, he stemmed the blood from Mia’s head wound, stabilized her head and neck, and started peppering Max with medical questions about his wife.