Julian
They whisk Damien into surgery. I don't remember the next few hours at the hospital. Sophia gets there not long after I do. I hold her hands, and she holds mine, and all I register is that her skin is cold. So icy cold. We don't talk. We just wait.
I had no idea I was Damien's emergency contact.
As soon as I got a call from the hospital, I called Damien’s brother, Cristiano. Cristiano and Magnus live in Manhattan, and I didn't think they would get to Highfield until well after midnight, but they arrive at the hospital two hours later. “Helicopter,” Cristiano says tersely. “Xavier has a landing pad. Mama and Victoria are already in the air, but it’ll take them seven hours to get here.” He sits down in one of the plastic chairs and gets up immediately, as if he can’t bring himself to relax. “Have the doctors said anything?”
I shake my head. “Just what I already told you. He hit a tree. He has several broken bones, and they’re concerned he has a concussion.” I take a deep breath. “They think he might have had a heart attack, and that’s why he crashed.”
Cristiano's face turns gray. His father died only three years ago of an unexpected heart attack. Magnus is at his side immediately, pulling him into his embrace. “It will be okay,” he says soothingly. “Damien is young, and he's in good shape.”
Damien’s father had been in good shape, too.
Sophia is huddled in a chair off to one side. I introduce them. “Ah,” Cristiano says, a small smile on his face. “You're the girlfriend. Damien's announcement caused quite a stir.”
She sent us a text out of the blue saying she wanted nothing to do with us. She blocked our numbers. I didn’t really expect her to be here. I still don’t know where things are at with us.
I wait for her to contradict Cristiano. To say, “No, I’m not dating Damien.”
But she doesn’t. She doesn’t say anything at all.
She looks ill.
And that stirs up my protective instincts. I can't do anything for Damien right now, but I can for Sophia. The hospital cafeteria is closed, so I get her a bottle of water and a candy bar from the vending machine and crouch in front of her. “When was the last time you ate?”
“It doesn't matter,” she mutters, not meeting my eyes.
“Sophia.”
“Breakfast,” she says.
She’s not eating. She’s lost weight since I last saw her. There’s a pallor on her face that’s new.
The hospital cafeteria might shut at six, but it's not too late for delivery. “Have either of you eaten?” I ask Cristiano and Magnus.
Cristiano shakes his head as if he can’t bear the idea of eating—something I agree with—but Magnus responds firmly. “We haven’t, no,” he says. “You’re ordering food? Thank you, Julian.”
I pick up my phone to call the nearest restaurant—a Thai place Hunter likes—but before I can dial, I see there’s an email waiting for me from Francisco Flores.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. He's ignored me for the last week, but now, of all the times, he writes back.
I read the email. It’s a snotty, pissy note, accusing me of not bringing my best work to the table and jeopardizing the series. He condemns me for being a big-name, egotistical author who isn't pulling his weight.
I snap. I've been patient with Flores, and I tried hard to work collaboratively, but I can no longer deal with his bullshit. My best friend is in surgery. I don't know if he's okay or not, and this is the last thing I need right now.
So I do something I've been avoiding doing for weeks. I call Shaun and explain the situation to him. All of it.
Shaun listens to me in silence. When I finish, he only asks me one question. “Why didn't you bring this to me earlier?”
“You told me to play nice. And I didn’t want to do anything to sink the deal.”
He sighs. “There's playing nice, and then there's this.” His voice turns grim. “Forward me all the emails Flores has sent you, Julian. And leave this to me. After all, this is what you pay me for.”
I thank him, hang up, and order some Thai. When it arrives, I make sure Sophia eats. After that, there’s nothing to do except pace up and down, fear pulsing through me. There’s nothing to do except wait.