Chapter 27Luke
CHAPTER 27
LUKE
Crashing through the doors of the emergency department at Santa Rosé General Hospital, I rush towards the nurse’s station. A nurse, a brunette I vaguely recall from somewhere besides other trips to the hospital, leaps up at the commotion I make.
Jordan. Nate’s sister.
If it weren’t for the phone call Nate made when we were on our way here, I wouldn’t have a clue where I knew her from. Nate’s engagement party.
“She’s—” Jordan starts.
There’s no time for niceties, and I interrupt, frantic, ready to take off in whatever way she points. “Where is she? Where? Which way?”
“—not here yet,” she finishes.
It deflates the spring in my knees that I was going to use to launch myself, and I grab onto the counter, swallowing down my disappointment. Not here. Hailey’s not even to the hospital yet.
For fuck sakes. Why the hell is Bear Creek so fucking far?
What if she’s got smoke inhalation?
What if she was stuck in the fire? Burned all over?
What if Priscylla stabbed her? What if she’s bleeding out?
Or had a gun. Oh fuck, what if she had a gun?
I’m out of my mind with terror like nothing I’ve ever felt, not even when Hailey was stuck in the car over the side of the mountain. It seized me the moment Priscylla said Hailey’s name and has only grown since. Nate’s phone call was from a deputy in Bear Creek who informed him that there was a fire, Hailey was hurt, and all she’d said was Priscylla was involved and to get a hold of Nate and me. There weren’t more details than that.
It's been a madhouse of trying to get information since.
“Luke?”
Whirling at the sound of my name from a female voice, the world stops as I take in the shoulder length black hair streaked red, and big lips. Priscylla stands twenty feet away from me, one hand on her belly, the other clasped at her chest.
“You came for me,” she breathes, a sparkle in her eye.
The terror instantly boils in me, and red is the only thing I see as I lunge towards the woman, bellowing, “If you hurt one fucking hair on her head, I will rip you to fucking pieces.”
Arms wrap around my middle before I make it to her, twisting me around and slamming me into something hard and solid. I fight against whatever has hold of me, rage coloring every part of my mind, but I’m held firm.
“Stop. Stop fighting. Take a fucking breath, man,” Nate commands near my ear, a shoulder pressed just below mine to keep me in place. “Think about what you’re doing. Don’t be stupid.”
I don’t care. Fuck it. If Hailey isn’t okay, I don’t care what happens to me. Let me sit in jail and rot for the rest of my life. Getting rid of this woman would be worth it.
“Get the fuck off me,” I growl at him, prepared to do what I have to in order to get to Priscylla.
Nate gets right in front of me then, grabbing my shirt to yank me forward before slamming me against the wall. “Knock it off, Reyes. That’s a fucking order.”
My hands are clenched into fists at my sides, ready to throw in whatever direction needed, but with Priscylla out of my line of sight and something else to focus on, I stretch my fingers out. Chest heaving with unspent energy, my nostrils flare as I take a second. But only one.
“She hurt Hailey,” I grit out.
“Yeah, and I get it. I understand the murderous rage going on,” Nate says, his voice low and quiet, only for us to hear. “But you need to reel it in. Get your head on straight.”
A voice to our left says, “Nate.”
Jordan. Trepidation leaking from the way she says his name. Worried about what might unfold in her emergency department. Because of me.
“He’s good,” Nate says, nodding his head with confidence. He releases me and pats me on the chest before turning his attention in his sister’s direction. “But get security in here.”
When I glance over Nate’s shoulder, however, I realize it’s too late. Security is already here and the guard isn’t going after Priscylla, who is still standing there, staring at me with wide, hopeful eyes. He’s coming towards us.
“No, no,” I say as Nate turns to look at the man. “It’s her! She’s the one that needs to be arrested.”
“Sir, turn around,” the guard says, looking at me like he’s ready for a fight. “Let’s just make this nice and easy.”
“Hey, man, look, it isn’t him—” Nate interjects.
But a flurry of motion has us all turning to see the doors to the ambulance bay opening, a stretcher coming through it.
“Hailey,” I exhale, spotting the mess of red hair first. My breath catches in my throat, my knees feeling weak, but I push off the wall to go to her. “Hailey.”
She spots me then, her eyes widening then drooping as her face scrunches. “Luke?”
“Hailey.” The sound comes out choked, relief clogging my throat, and I launch into what should be a sprint.
If it weren’t for being tackled to the ground, I would have been at her side in five seconds. I would have had her face in my hands. My lips at her forehead. My eyes roaming all over to take in all the places she needed medical attention.
Instead, a man sits on top of me, telling me to cooperate, pulling my arms behind my back, while everyone else around me is shouting. All I can do is crane my neck as far as possible to look up at the stretcher stopped just inside the ER.
Hailey.
Breathing. Alive. Conscious.
“You,” Priscylla screeches to my right, and I have just enough time to turn my head to see her coming at Hailey. The next words are chilling as she screams, “You’re supposed to be dead.”
“No,” I shout, struggling on the ground, the terror from before gripping my heart in its clutches. “Hailey!”
Nate catches the charging woman by an arm, then manages to secure the other, locking them both behind her and ceasing any attack. My face rests against the ground, and I blow out a breath, while the man sitting on me pushes a hand against my back and tells me to stay down. Then his weight lifts, and I raise my head to find him, and a new security guard who rushes up to them, taking Priscylla from Nate.
“Luke?” Hailey says, her voice a soft caress over my frayed nerves and thrumming blood still pumping furiously through me. It isn’t loud, but she’s been a part of me for so many years that I’d know her even if my name was just a whisper on the wind.
Craning my neck once again, I look towards the stretcher. “Everything’s okay, Freckles. You good? You okay?”
“I’m fine—why are you?—”
“Let’s go. Up on your feet.” The security guard is back, and he’s grabbing me by the arms, trying to hoist me up to my knees so I can stand up. Protests and shouts erupt in the room again, but the guy isn’t having any of it, and finally he yells to everyone, “I’ll detain you all if you don’t stop until we figure this out.”
“Guys, it’s fine,” I tell Nate, Hailey, Jordan, and Debra, who I’m only noticing, now that I’m upright. “Let the man do his job.”
My eyes lock on Hailey, and having a moment to study her, my heart stutters. She’s normally pale, but this takes it to a new level. Ashen, maybe a little green, and her eyes only open to slits. I force every emotion deep down into my soul, and flash her a dazzling smile that I know will bring my dimples out for her. The last thing she needs to worry about right now is me.
I glance over my shoulder at the guard who has a hand locked around my bicep, only to realize it isn’t the guard who initially tackled me. In fact, it isn’t a guard at all. It’s a cop, and now that I’m looking around the room, I realize there’s a couple of them.
“Alright, hot shot. We’re gonna go figure out what the hell is going on here,” he says, turning me in the opposite direction of Hailey.
My jaw clenches, and I resist the urge to fight. Every instinct screams at me not to leave Hailey, especially with Priscylla in the vicinity, but she’s safe. Priscylla is cuffed too. Both of us restrained might be the safest thing for everyone right now, because as the cop leads me past her, the rage bubbles inside and my hands clench into fists behind me.
“No, why are you taking him?” Hailey shouts, making me all but forget about the woman who tried to hurt her. “It wasn’t him! It was her! She was the one that started the fire and trapped me and my mom. She’s the one that hit me. It wasn’t Luke. Please don’t take him. Please.”
I look over my shoulder to comfort the woman pleading with the cops. At the same time, a chorus of “Hailey!” goes up in the air. There she is, scrambling off the stretcher, darting towards me, and I join in the shouts of her name, but she doesn’t listen. I freeze in place, the cop holding me taking a moment to look over his shoulder as well.
“Hailey,” Nate says, and for the third time today, he’s grabbing someone to stop them from doing something very stupid. His arms wrap around her, and he pulls her into his chest. “Let them figure things out. He’ll be back. Okay? Take a breath.”
Tears slip down her cheeks, but she doesn’t fight against Nate. I hate that it’s not me with my arms around her. Hate that she’s once again crying. Hate that I can’t be the one to console her after everything she’s been through.
“But it wasn’t me,” Priscylla erupts, a few feet away. “That woman pushed me down the stairs. I’m the victim here. She tried to kill me. We need to make sure our baby is okay.”
“Find her a doctor and get her checked out,” the cop holding me says to one of the others, then pushes me forward. “Separate all of them and start interviewing. What a goddamn mess.”
With one last look over my shoulder at Hailey, I let the man take me away from her, once again letting my heart disappear.