Noah (Anderson Billionaires #2) by Melody Anne

PROLOGUE

Lights flashed in Sarah’s eyes as unintelligible words floated around her.

There was so much darkness—too much. The world was full of a myriad of colors, so when you saw it in black and white, you knew something was wrong—very, very wrong.

“Let’s go code three.”

“Stay with us, Sarah,” she heard someone say. They sounded so far away. There was a face above her, but she couldn’t seem to focus on it. There were no eyes, no mouth, no nose. It was just a black-and-white blur above her with a halo of light behind it.

“Can you tell me your full name?”

She tried to answer, but she couldn’t seem to find her voice.

“Sarah, when is your birthday?”

Again she couldn’t answer.

“We have a twenty-six-year-old female who was the restrained passenger of an SUV traveling at approximately sixty-five miles per hour. Their car was hit on the passenger side at high speed, and airbags deployed. She had to be extricated from the vehicle. She has a distended abdomen, labored breathing, and decreased level of consciousness. Her blood pressure is eighty-three over forty-two with a pulse of one hundred and thirty; O2 sats are ninety-three percent and dropping. Possible internal bleeding.”

Sarah wanted to know who they were talking about, but she couldn’t find her voice. She heard a moan but wasn’t sure where it came from. Nothing felt real at the moment. Nothing felt right.

A bright light shone in her eyes, and she tried turning away, but she couldn’t move her head. Where was she? She tried to focus. There were sirens, but they sounded distant. She couldn’t move her body. Panic was beginning to set in. Where was Noah? She’d been driving with Noah. Suddenly he’d yelled, and then everything had gone dark.

“Do you know what month it is, Sarah?”

Why were they asking these questions?

“Can you tell us what happened?”

If she could speak, she’d tell him to give her a second to answer one question before he spouted off another, but there wasn’t a point, anyway. She couldn’t find her voice.

“Her pupils are equal and reactive,” the voice said. “Let’s get two IVs started wide open.”

Oh no. She hated needles. Those had better not be going into her.

“Stay with us, Sarah. Let’s keep those eyes open,” the voice said. She was growing more and more irritated. She needed a nap. She’d been working hard. It wasn’t a crime to take a little nap. She was in a dream right now, after all, so shutting her eyes was exactly what she needed to do.

“Her blood pressure is now seventy-eight over forty. Heart rate is still in the one hundred thirties. Oxygen has dropped to eighty-four percent, and her breathing is more labored. We are going to need to intubate en route. We’re ten minutes out.”

Where were they ten minutes out from? That face above her was growing blurrier by the second, and she didn’t want to keep her eyes open anymore. They shut, and she felt darkness enveloping her.

“We’re losing her.”

Sarah wasn’t sure what that meant, but it didn’t matter. The darkness that had been slowly seeping in washed over her like a cool breeze and took away all her confusion. She sighed as the voices faded away into nothingness.

Noah looked in at the black-and-blue body of Sarah, and for the first time in at least ten years, he felt a stinging in his eyes. He’d been the one driving. No, he knew he wasn’t responsible for the drunk driver who had smashed into them, but he felt responsible for not reacting faster. He’d walked away from the crash with a few bruises, and Sarah had nearly lost her life.

For months she’d been telling him they weren’t right for each other. Maybe she was correct. Maybe he was too dangerous. Maybe his need for excitement and adventure would eventually kill her.

He’d never been so scared as when she’d been loaded into that ambulance. And now the evidence of his recklessness was right there in front of him. She was unconscious in the bed after a long surgery.

He needed to let her go—it was what she wanted. He knew it would be better for her. He just wasn’t sure he’d be able to do that.

“Sir, you’re not supposed to be back here,” a woman said softly as she gently placed a hand on his arm.

“I know. Please, just give me a minute. I won’t go in. I won’t disturb her,” he pleaded. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d begged for anything from anyone.