Fatal Knockout (Knockout Series Book 1) Read online

  “Ma’am?” I look over my shoulder and give Colt a blank look. “You have a call.” I take my phone from his hand and answer it. “Mrs. Benson, my name is Dr. Mire. I’m one of physicians here at Centennial Hills Medical Center, where your husband is being treated.” My heart stops. It literally stops, and then kicks back into high gear. “Tre—treated? For what?” I stammer, unable to catch my breath. “Your husband was attacked earlier this evening, Mrs. Benson. He was brought in by ambulance with a mild concussion and spinal contusion.” Instantly, my knees buckle and collide with the ceramic tile flooring. In a flash, Memaw and Colt are at my side. “What is it, honey?” Fighting for air, I pant, “Blaze is in the hospital…”

  I don’t bother packing clothes or toiletries. I just grab my purse and let Colt drive us to the airport. Memaw said she’ll call up the ladies from her women’s ministry at church and they’ll take care of the drive. I’ve called Declan twice since the plane landed in Nevada, but he didn’t pick up. How did they know where to find him? How did they get to him? Most of all, I want to know what was he doing alone? He promised me he’d be with someone at all times. Where the hell was Declan?

  After our long flight arrives, I hurry through the airport and outside to catch a taxi. The hospital is only about 15 miles from the airport, but the drive seems much longer. As soon as the cab pulls up to hospital doors, I hurry out and go in search of the information desk. “Can you tell me where the neurology unit is?” Colt runs through the doors, carrying my purse. “For a pregnant woman, you sure are fast,” he says, handing me my bag. “Who is it that you’re looking for, ma’am?” Colt speaks for me. “Blaze Benson,” he begins, providing her with all the necessary information. “How are you related to Mr. Benson?” I slam my hands on her desk. “Lady, tell me where in the hell my husband is,” I hiss. Colt places his hands on my shoulders and kindly answers, “She is his wife, Madisyn Benson. Here is her ID if you need it.” She takes my driver’s license from him and provides us with Blaze’s room number.

  Slowly, I open the door and see my husband sound asleep. I walk to his bedside and stare down at him. He’s in a neck brace, lip swollen, his eye black, and his eyebrow is stitched together. Seeing my husband—the biggest and most dangerous man I know—in this condition, shatters my heart. I do the only thing I know how to do... I lower myself to my knees and pray.

  Surprisingly, Colt rests his hand on my shoulder and joins me. Though neither of us know all the details, he prays aloud for both Blaze and me. “God, I ask that you dull the pain in Madisyn’s heart with your love. Lord, be her rock, her fortress, her everything during this challenging time. I pray for you to anoint the Bensons’ with healing and strength. Lord, nourish Blaze’s body and shelter him from the evil waiting to ambush him. God, we thank you for your healing. We thank you for your love and comfort. And, we thank you for life. Amen.” He hands me a tissue to dry the tears from my face. “That was beautiful, Colt. Thank you,” I snivel. A knock sounds on the door and a man in green scrubs and surgical cap walks into the room. Colt helps me stand and says, “I’ll be outside the door. Holler if you need me.” I’ve never heard him talk so much. Seriously, I was beginning to wonder if his vocabulary consisted of anything other than yes, ma’am, Benson, and you’re welcome. “No, Colt. You can stay.” He stops by the door and nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Mrs. Benson, I assume.” The same voice I talked to on the phone greets me with a handshake. “Dr. Mire?” He nods and motions for me to have a seat in the chair next to Blaze’s bed. “I’m sorry for the way you had to hear about your husband,” he apologizes. “Thank you.” I scoot my chair closer to Blaze. “Is it okay if I touch him?” I remember him mentioning something about a spinal cord injury, and I’m no doctor, but I’m pretty sure he isn’t supposed to be moved. “You can touch him,” he smiles at me. Carefully, I slip my hand under his and interlace our fingers.

  “We had to sedate him when he came in. All he wanted to do was get home to you,” he chuckles. “What happened to him?” My lips starts to quiver, but I will not cry. The longer I look at Blaze, the angrier I become at whoever did this to him. “The police report said he was attacked outside of the Grand Garden Arena earlier this evening. He looks worse than he is. However, if his friend hadn’t found him when he did, I’m not sure Mr. Benson would’ve survived the attack.” Speaking of his friend, where is he? “Declan?” I ask. “Yes, that’s him.”

  “Where is he?” He lowers his head and sucks in a breath. “Your friend was arrested not long after your husband arrived. Mr. Benson suffered a mild concussion. He was a bit confused, and like I said, all he wanted to do was get to you. The officers let him stay just long enough to give us your information.” I’m not sure I want to know the answer to my next question, but I ask it anyway. “Can you tell me why he was arrested?” He hikes his pant leg up and takes a seat.

  “Mrs. Benson, he nearly beat a man to death.”

  “He was defending his best friend.”

  “Be that as it may—”

  “Not may, Dr. Mire—is. That is what he did.”

  He holds his hands up in a surrender. “I apologize. I’m not questioning your friend’s actions, because I’m sure I’d do as he did if I were in that situation. All I’m trying to say is, he had to be taken in for questioning. The last I heard he hadn’t been charged with anything, officially. Police are looking over the camera footage before they make any final decisions.” Reaching into my purse, I take out my wallet and remove my credit card and checkbook. “Colt, take these and go down to the station. I don’t care how much it costs, get him out of there.” He clears his throat. “Ma’am, I’m under strict orders to stay at your side—”

  “Colt, I like you. I really, really like you. But, if you don’t take these from my hands and go get Declan, you won’t have any future orders to follow. I mean it,” I forewarn him. Reluctantly, he takes the items from my hand and says, “Yes, ma’am.” I inhale a calming breath and slowly let it out. “And, Colt? I’m sorry for putting you in this situation, but I’m even more thankful that you’re here to help.” He half smiles and turns to walk out the door. He must be thinking I’m a snappy, hormonal pregnant lady, and maybe I am. Or maybe I just don’t like people messing with my family. I’m both. I’m a moody, hormonal and livid pregnant lady who’s ready to do some serious ass kicking.

  When Colt is gone from the room, I turn my attention back to Dr. Mire. “So, he has a mild concussion and he’s sedated because he was acting a bit hostile, right?” He nods his head from side-to-side and says, “Basically, yes.” I smile down at my husband and lean down to kiss his forehead. “If I remember correctly, you mentioned something about his spinal cord? You lost me after you told me he was here in the hospital.” He nods his head and flashes me a genuine smile. “That’s understandable.”

  He removes the surgical cap from his head and continues, “And yes, I did mention his spinal injury. Your husband has something we call a spinal contusion, which means his spinal cord is bruised. Which is another reason we had to sedate him. Upon his arrival, we ordered an MRI and myelography scan. The scan showed his spinal cord to be slightly inflamed, but his neural pathways hadn’t been affected by it. The scans didn’t show any blood accumulation or spinal compression, which is good. I’ve started him on corticosteroids to decrease the inflammation and prevent any blood that may try to accumulate later on. As you can see, we’re keeping his neck and spine stabilized with a backboard and neck brace. I don’t believe your husband will have any permanent nerve damage, but I can’t guarantee it until he wakes up and I evaluate him.” He extends his hand to me and I take it. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Benson. If you need anything from me, just let my staff know. They can get in touch with me any time of the day.” Once Dr. Mire is gone, I rest my head on Blaze’s leg and cry myself to sleep.

  Seventeen

  Blaze

  I fight the lights and force my eyes—eye rather—to open. I hear voices, but I can’t turn my he
ad far enough to see who they belong to. I lift my hands up to the contraption around my neck and begin to undo the Velcro. I freeze when I hear my angel say, “Baby, stop. Leave it on.” Thank you, Jesus. “Come here, baby. Let me see you,” I croak, my throat dry. I need to see with my own eyes that they didn’t hurt her. She walks over and looks down at me with teary eyes. “You’re okay…” I blow out a breath of relief. She runs her finger back through my hair. “Yes, baby, I’m fine. What about you? How do you feel?”

  “Kiss me and I’ll tell you.” She brings her lips down to mine and smiles, “I’d say you’re feeling better.” I lift my hand up to the side of her face and capture her lips. She moans and tells me, “I’ve missed you like crazy.” I pull her lips back to mine and kiss her again. “How long have I been here?” Though I probably shouldn’t, I lift my head and turn it slightly the side. She stands up and I catch a glimpse of her belly peeking out from her shirt. I reach out and let the back of my fingers skim the exposed skin. “Look at her,” I smile. “And look at you,” she frowns. “You shouldn’t be moving until the doctor says you can.”

  “Speak of the devil,” I point behind her. “Good morning,” Dr. Mire beams. Nodding at Declan, he says, “It’s nice to see you without handcuffs and escorts.” Declan chortles. “You, too, doc.” Handcuffs and escorts? “Nice to see you awake and calm, Mr. Benson.” I bet it is. I vaguely remember him being the one who tranquilized me. If Maddie would’ve gotten hurt, it would’ve been him who I came after next. He stands over me and asks, “How are you feeling this morning?” I point to the neck brace. “I’d feel much better without this on.”

  “I see you’re moving both of your hands. That’s good,” he tells me, carefully removing the brace from my neck. “Why wouldn’t I be able to move them?” He pokes my arm with something sharp. “Do you feel anything?” I move my arm away from him and say, “If you’re asking me if I can feel you jabbing away at my arm, then yes, I feel it.” He snickers, “Good.” I wonder if he’d think it was good if it were me prodding him. He uncovers my legs and pokes them. “And, what about here?” I nod. “And here?” Again, I nod. This guy is a quack. “Are you going to answer my question?” He moves from my legs down to the soles of my feet. “And this?”

  “Yes,” I hiss. “I feel all of it. Now, will you stop stabbing me with that damn thing?” Maddie rests her hand on my arm and whispers, “Babe, be nice. He’s only doing his job and trying to help you.” I’ll be nice when he stops jabbing the shit out of me. He covers my legs back up and then shines his bright light in my eyes. “Look straight ahead for me.” I do. “Good.” He puts the light away in his pocket and holds his finger up in front of my face. “Now, I want you to follow my finger using only your eyes.” He moves his finger from the left to the right, up and down, and I follow. “Good,” he says, again. Yes, I’m good. “Now, will you please answer my question?” I ask, politely as possible. I look up at Maddie and she winks at me. Then, she mouths, “Thank you.”

  “Yes, I will answer your question,” he smirks, pulling up a chair and taking a seat. “But first, can you tell me what all you remember?” I can, but I don’t want to, not in front of Maddie anyway. I look over by the door and see Colt standing by. “Colt, will you take Maddie down to the cafeteria and let her get some breakfast?” He looks to her and she tosses her head back and laughs, but it isn’t natural. “Nice try, Benson. I’m not going anywhere. I want to hear what happened. Spill it,” she demands. “Madisyn,” I frown. I don’t want to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to lie to her either. So, I don’t. “Doc, I remember everything up until you knocked me out.” Maddie crosses her arms over her chest and glares at me. I keep my eyes on hers as Dr. Mire answers my question. “After we got you to calm down, we ran a couple scans on your head, neck, and back. Your MRI showed you had a mild concussion, which explained your altered mental status when you arrived. Another scan we performed on you revealed a spinal contusion. Your spinal cord was inflamed, but you didn’t have much bleeding, which was a miracle. Immediately, I wrote an order for you to have corticosteroids to decrease the swelling and prevent any possible bleeding. I’ve had the nurses administer Ativan through your IV every six hours to keep you still and asleep. And by my physical examination, I’d say you’re one lucky man. That’s more than I can say for the other gentleman.” Declan scoffs, “He’s no gentleman, doc.”

  “And how many days have I been here?” Maddie hold up four fingers. “Four? Did I miss Bentley’s transplant?” I promised him that I’d be there until they kicked me out. “No, it’s scheduled for tomorrow morning,” Maddie replies. “I’m good to go, yeah?” I ask the doc. He exhales, “Not yet, but hopefully soon. I’d like to get another scan to make sure the inflammation has subsided and no bleeding has occurred. If the scan comes back negative, I’ll discharge you this evening.” He asks us if we have any further questions and I tell him all I want to know is when I can get the scan. He lets me know that he’s going to write up the order and have radiology come and get me within the hour.

  While I wait, I look over at Declan and ask, “Dude, what is all this talk about handcuffs and escorts? Please, tell me they weren’t, like, real escorts.” The three of them laugh out loud. Maddie even laughs so hard she snorts. “Nah, man. My escorts were the police who arrested me for saving your ass. And the handcuffs, I still don’t know why they made me wear them.” Maddie arches one eyebrow, puckers her lips, and looks him over. “Seriously? You can’t think of a reason why they’d put you in handcuffs?” Declan shakes his head no. “I was compliant, Madisyn, and I wasn’t even under arrest. I was taken in for questioning. There was no need to cuff me, none whatsoever.”

  “So, the guy five rooms down, who has a machine breathing for him, isn’t reason enough? I’d cuff you, even if I didn’t see the evidence of your works.” He walks over to Maddie and places his hands on either side of her stomach. Then, he squats down and says to our daughter, “Your momma isn’t as mean as she sounds, I promise.” She punches him in the shoulder. “I am not mean, not even a little.” He stares down at his shoulder and back at her. “Did you just slap my shoulder?”

  Shaking his head, he walks over to the door and cracks it open. Then, he peeks his head through the crack and calls out, “Help! Call the priest! We’ve got ourselves fifty shades of Madisyn!” Maddie pushes up from the chair and scurries over to Declan. “I didn’t slap you, I punched you.” He half laughs. “Oh, is that what you call it? A punch?” She slams the door shut and catches him off guard, giving him a purple nurple. “Mercy! Mercy!” He tosses his hands up in the air and surrenders. “What’d that feel like?” Declan’s hand rubs where Maddie pinched. “It felt painful, Mads. Very painful.”

  Eighteen

  Madisyn

  Walking into Bentley’s room, I yell, “Surprise!” The corners of Bentley’s lips turn up, but he doesn’t give me a full smile. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he doesn’t have the strength. Keisha runs over and wraps her arms around Blaze. “How are you even here?” She hugs him tight and steps back to look him over. “You good?” Blaze holds his hands out to the side. “Do I look bad?” She takes another look. “No, but Maddie said you had a spinal—” He shushes her and nods to Bentley. “Not now.” She nods and whispers, “Okay. Later.”

  Blaze doesn’t like to worry Bentley, as he shouldn’t. He even wore a baseball cap today to hide his black eye and stitched brow. As far as Bent knows, Blaze has been out of town for business. Which is the truth, sort of. “So, Bent, are you ready to be cancer free for good?” Blaze asks him. “I’m ready to go home,” he says. “I know, buddy. You’ll be home soon.” I can tell Blaze wants to go over and sit next to him, but he doesn’t want to risk Bentley seeing his wounds. However, he does need to sit. He’s been standing for too long. Knowing he won’t listen to me if I ask him to take a seat, I walk across the room and sit on the sofa I’ve become familiar with over the last several months. “Sit by me?” I pat the cushion beside me.<
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  “Where’s Memaw?” I ask Dawson. “She went down to the cafeteria to get a cup of coffee.” Coffee sounds so good. I push my bottom lip out and give Blaze my puppy dog eyes. “No. Don’t even ask,” he chuckles. “But I haven’t had so much as a sip of caffeine since my first trimester. Baby,” I pout. “Blaze, that girl has been up going on five days straight… She deserves a cup of coffee,” Declan says. Rubbing my stomach, he sighs, “One cup, but that’s it.” I give him a peck on the cheek and get up to go fetch my hot cup of java. But, when I open the door, I run into Dr. Kessler and several other people. “Excuse us, Mrs. Benson.” Dr. Kessler steps aside and motions for me to pass him. “Oh, no, y’all come on in. I can get coffee later.” I open the door wide and Dr. Kessler walks into the room.

  “How is everyone this morning?” Everyone mumbles their answers at once. “We’ll begin the transplant here soon, but before we do, there’s someone here who would like to meet you and your family. Is that okay with you, Bentley?” Keisha grabs my hand and squeezes. “It’s okay with me,” Bentley shrugs. Dr. Kessler looks to Keisha and she nods her approval. “Great,” he smiles. He gives his nurse the go ahead to open the door. When a handsome young man comes into the room, Keisha gasps, Blaze swears, and Declan sneers. Dawson and I look at each other completely confused.