Free Marrying Mari by Elyse Snow Page A

and women around his conference table. “This meeting is finished. I’ll be back with you individually within twenty-four hours.” Without pausing for the rising buzz of questions, he headed for the elevator. As he passed Amanda’s desk, he threw over one shoulder, “Cancel everything for the rest of the day. You can reach me on my mobile.” The doors opened and he stepped in, pressing the button for Gabriel as he did.
    Gabe answered, “Yo. Haven’t gotten Mari yet.”
    “She’s in the ER at Bellevue. Some kind of accident. Just got the call, I’m on my way to the car. Meet you there.”
    “How serious?” Gabe’s voice was stark.
    “I don’t know. There were no details. They were going through her stuff and found my card, called me. Damn. I told them to take care of whatever, we’ll square it when we get there.”
    “I’m on the way.”
    Ethan exited the elevator. “Gabe! Be careful. I don’t want two accidents, okay? I know you’re going to get on that bloody cycle.”
    “I’ll be careful, man. No worries.”
    Ethan stopped, his hand on the car door. “Promise me, Gabriel. Promise me you’ll be careful getting down there. I can’t—I won’t do this twice.” He waited.
    Gabe sighed. “I promise, Ethan. I will be a responsible motorcycle driver, wear a helmet and stay at the speed limit, in my lane, okay? You get to the ER and I’ll meet you there.” He hung up abruptly.
    Ethan sighed, too, then ducked into the car. “Bellevue ER. Now.” Eli nodded once and pulled into traffic.
     
     
    The ER was crazy, of course, with everything from babies who had swallowed something to people cradling bloody limbs and looking woozy. Ethan ignored them all, pushing his way to the window.
    The woman spoke without looking up. “Help you?”
    Ethan leaned on the frame. “Ethan Stone. You called me about Mariella Amorini.”
    “Take a seat. We’ll call you.”
    He leaned closer. “I don’t think so.”
    She looked up, looked and said, “Uh, yes. Amorini. Second curtain through the double doors.”
    Ethan smiled. “Thanks. Gabriel Pryor will be showing up momentarily. Tell him too.”
    “What does he look like?”
    “You’ll know.” Ethan moved to the doors. “Trust me,” he said under his breath. “You’ll know.” He pushed through the doors, took in the space and then moved to the second curtained bed, whipping back the curtains. “Jesus,” he breathed.
    Mari lay there, unconscious or asleep, he guessed. Pale. They’d cut off her jacket and shirt—they were lying on the floor in pieces, bloody. Her helmet sat on top of them, a dent in the crown. There was a large gauze dressing taped around her lower right arm, and another on her right calf where she’d slid, he thought.
    Her right cheek was marred by a bruise. Her shoulder was bruised too.
    He stared at her.
    Gabriel pushed by him, froze. “Damn.” He stepped up and took one of her limp hands in his. He kissed her fingers. “Did you see the doctor yet?”
    “I got here just ahead of you.” Ethan watched his friend. Gabriel was gentle, focused on Mariella. He touched her unmarked cheek, kissed her fingers again.
    Ethan shoved his hands in his pants pockets. Looking around, he picked up the chart from the end of the bed where it was hooked. The gibberish scrawled there didn’t reassure him. She was attached to some kind of drip, but not to a monitor. He stepped out into the walkway outside the curtains. Men and women in what looked like nurses’ scrubs were bustling back and forth. He stepped into the path of one and effectively halted her progress.
    Ethan held up the chart. “Amorini. In there. Where’s her doctor?”
    The nurse looked annoyed, looked him up and down. “I don’t know.” She stepped to the side, trying to go around.
    Ethan mirrored her move, holding the chart in front of her face. “Doctor?”
    Realizing she wasn’t getting away until the tall, determined man in front of her got an answer, the nurse checked