“I need to see him.” It’s whiplash. From drowning in despair to near bursting with relief and bliss. “Will they let me see him?” Carefully, I move from the bed onto the cold floor. I’m barefoot. I hadn’t even put on shoes before Rena and Rufio blew through the open door and changed our worlds forever. “Turner. Where is Turner?” I hold on to the bed railing for a few seconds to gain balance.
“Isaac has him in the lobby. He dropped Chonk off at the vet on his way here.”
My voice breaks. “Chonk.”
Ramona clears her throat. “Isaac said his ear was, well… preserved because it was in snow. There’s a chance they’ll be able to reattach it.”
I cringe. “My poor dog.” Then I realize I’m worrying over an animal when there are far more important things to dwell on. “I’m so sorry, Ramona. Stavros was an asshole, but he loved you. He only loved you.”
She looks thoughtful as her gaze drops from my face to the bed. Ramona shakes her head. “Maybe it wasn’t just me, though. Maybe he loved others. Maybe his gift in life was making others feel… loved.” A tear streaks down her face. “I need to call a few people. I have his phone.” Her eyes are sad, but I can tell she’s made a decision. A selfless one that is going to hurt. “They deserve to know,” she explains. “Maybe he would have died for any of them. All of them. I can’t say that for sure.”
I sigh. “You’re a bigger person than I am, but I do think you’re doing the right thing.” Ramona rounds the bed and pulls me into a tight hug. “Remember, it’s not going to hurt this much one day.”
She nods against my shoulder. “I hope it does, though.”
And with that, she saunters out of my little room and into the hallway. I know exactly what she means, too. Closing my eyes, I let go of the railing and try to find Lincoln or Turner, or anyone who can give me an update on anything. If I find the medic, I might throttle him, then again, maybe I won’t because I’m just relieved. I don’t see my nurse around, so I pad off in the direction I saw Ramona go. My feet are cold against the smooth tile as I follow the sounds of beeping.
Someone taps me on the shoulder. I spin. “Where are you headed?”
I open my mouth and then close it. “Uh, I’m trying to find the waiting room. The lobby,” I say nervously.
“You’re supposed to be in bed.”
“Oh, I’m totally fine,” I say, waving my hand in the air. Like I’m not some complete lunatic, covered in blood, walking barefoot in an emergency room. “My family is in the waiting room and I really need to talk to them.”Real convincing, Maeve.“Please. I just need to see them.”
This guy, who looks to be a doctor, does not have the same pity on me as my nurse and he escorts me back into my hole in the wall, tells me to stay put, and closes the curtain. I see shoes on the other side, so I know they have some poor soul babysitting me. If I wanted to make my escape, I would make my escape, I think. But I am not in a state to do anything except sit in this bed while my thoughts race quicker than a bolt of lightning.
Isaac blows in, literally—curtains swaying as he yells, “Thank God you’re okay. Lincoln is being a fucking rat bastard upstairs pulling on restraints like a madman trying to get to you.”
“Where is Turner?”
Isaac sighs a long, drawn-out, relieved breath. “He’s with Ms. Gibson in the lobby. She’s going to take him back home, or maybe to school late if he wants to go. It’s been a wild fucking morning and my God, do you think your doctor will let you come upstairs? Just so he can see you for a second. He’ll see that you’re okay and stop acting like this is an episode ofHard Time in Lockup,” he huffs. “You should see the man. He’s maniacal up there.”
I can’t help but smirk, then it vanishes when I say, “On the way here, the medic told me he died.” The words taste like acid and bile rises from my stomach. Clearing my throat, I add, “Ramona is the one who told me he was okay, just upstairs getting the bullet taken out.”
Isaac makes a sweeping gesture with his hands straight out beside him. “Fucker is more than okay.” He looks out to catch the first employee he finds and returns a few minutes later with a pair of blue hospital socks with the rubber bottom. “We’re clear. Put these on and let’s go find Gregor the Great.” He sees how I sway when I get out of the bed and reach for the socks. “Are you okay? They said you were clear to come up with me, but are you feeling good enough?”
“It’s been a lot. I’m feeling okay. Don’t worry about me. Let’s go to Lincoln. Also, how did they clear me to go? A doctor just sent me back in here like he was scolding some dog.”
“Listen, kid,” he says, using the nickname Rexy gave me. I close my eyes briefly. “I know how to handle people. It’s one of my skills.”
The smile I offer is weak as I pull on the socks and follow him to the elevator. Isaac is trying to make me feel comfortable, but I’m finding it hard to make conversation. He must sense it because after my second response to one of his questions is a nod, he stops talking altogether. The doors ping open and all I hear is chaos.
Isaac shakes his head, wearing a scowl. “I told you.”
This is a place in the hospital reserved for surgery, so I know I’m not supposed to be here right now. I follow the sound of Lincoln’s voice down the white, sterile hallway and turn right. He’s there, on one of those rolling gurney bed things that you lay on while they’re taking you into surgery. He’s in a hospital gown with socks matching mine. He is yelling at what looks to be hospital security, his finger aimed straight in his face, spit flying.
“Lincoln,” I call, rushing to the side of his bed.
His head turns, his gaze locks with mine, and for only that moment everything is okay again. I can ignore the blood on his shoulder, and he doesn’t see the disheveled state I’m in. We see each other with beating hearts and that’s enough. It has to be enough.
“Oh, thank God,” Lincoln breathes into my ear as he pulls me into a hug using his good arm. He presses his lips to the side of my head. “No one knew if you were okay. They couldn’t tell me anything. These people tried to say because we aren’t related, I wasn’t privy to the information.”
Huh,I think of the medic who rocked my world with false information he wasn’tsupposedto give me.
“I’m fucking steamed!” He has a death grip around my neck, so I move in closer to take the pressure off. He’s panicked and it’s quite evident.
“Isaac came and found me. I’m here now. I’m safe. It’s fine. Let these people do their job.” I pull away and see the feral terror reflecting back at me. Warily, I glance up at the doctor. “Can I have just a couple minutes with him?” His shoulder looks stabilized, and I can tell by the way he’s acting he won’t die in the next two minutes. “Please.”