Chapter 62 Sloane
Sloane
It takes three hours to reach the hospital in San Jacinto.
Jacob knows about the hospital in San Bernardino, so we have to take a detour.
Alexis nearly dies a total of seven times on the journey.
Her pulse is barely there anymore, weak, irregular and thready, and I am numb.
Heavy silence reigns supreme inside the car as Zeth drives, and I try to forget where I am.
To forget everything that’s happened since I woke up this morning.
It’s pitch-black by the time we pull up outside the hospital, and just the sight of the place has me in tears. The ambulance parked out front, and the lights blaring from the building’s many windows, promising help, is more than I can take. We got her here. Somehow, she made it this far.
Zeth collects Alexis from the back seat again, and we run inside. Michael stays with the car. Michael takes the car away. I don’t know what happens to Michael. All I care about is Alexis.
The nurse on duty at reception drops her pen when she sees us. We must look like hell, covered in blood and dust, carrying a half-dead girl between us. I’m rattling off Lexi’s stats before the girl can even process what she’s seeing.
“Gunshot wound to the abdomen. Severe kidney damage, hemodynamically unstable, tachycardic, and hypertensive. She needs to be booked into an OR now!”
The nurse responds quickly, sending out an emergency page for all available bodies.
A crash team and two doctors arrive within seconds, taking Alexis without so much as a backward glance at Zeth and me.
The nurse sticks around, though. What’s happened to her?
What’s my relationship to the patient? What treatment has she received?
Allergies? End-of-life, do-not-resuscitate wishes?
I answer everything through a daze of exhaustion and a toxic level of adrenaline.
After that, it’s just Zeth and me. Alone. In a hospital waiting room.
“Sloane?”
I can’t look at him. If I do, I’m going to start cr—Ah, shit.
Too late. He holds me tight, arms wrapped around me, and I bawl my eyes out for God knows how long, feeling utterly weak and useless.
The likelihood of Lexi making it is so slim that I can’t even calculate such low odds.
And what happened back at the compound? Zeth killing Clark?
“She’s going to be okay, Sloane. It’s all gonna be okay.”
“How can you say that?” I push him away, batting the tears out of my eyes. “How?”
Throughout this entire nightmare of a day, Zeth has been composed. He reaches out and sweeps my hair out of my face, shaking his head, still in total command of himself. “Because she’s your sister, angry girl. If she’s half as strong as you are, then she’s gonna be just fine.”
God, he really believes that? I stand up on shaky legs and start pacing, my arms wrapped around my body.
“I hesitated. I took too long. She’s probably gonna die now, and if I’d acted quicker…
” I pull in a deep breath, fighting against the tears.
How many times have I told interns you can’t hesitate?
How many times? And then the moment when I need to concentrate the most, I freeze.
Lexi needed me, and I froze. My legs are like rubber.
I’m going to collapse any second. As if he knows this, Zeth comes and stands behind me, placing his arms around me, giving me the support I need to stay upright.
“You were brave. And you were fucking strong. You did what you had to do.” The bass timbre of his voice rumbles through his rib cage and vibrates into my back.
I was scared of him when he attacked Clark back at the compound.
It all happened so quickly. He went from dormant to lethal in the space of seconds, right before my eyes.
It was a terrifying thing to witness. But his words have been playing in my head ever since I asked him if he’d had to kill Clark, and sick as it may sound, I understand why he told me to work it out on my own, now.
In between freaking out, thinking that my sister was dead on the way here, I’ve run the scenario through my head over and over.
I’ve watched it play out a thousand times, and I’ve imagined every single outcome I can: Zeth not acting, and Clark shooting Michael; Zeth taking the time to try to wrestle the gun from the guy and getting shot himself in the process; Zeth attacking him in a million different ways, and each time the outcome is the same.
Someone dies. I’m a terrible person, but I’ve come to the conclusion that he did the right thing.
By letting me figure it out on my own, he knows I know it’s the truth.
A guilty man will plead innocent until he runs out of breath.
That it was all an accident. That it was someone else.
That he had no other choice. I wouldn’t have accepted Zeth’s telling me that he’d had no other choice.
I would have just been afraid. And I still am afraid… just not afraid of him.
I place my hands over his, folded on my stomach, and I let my head fall back against his chest. He’s got me. He’s got me now, and he had me back in Jacob Dixon’s kitchen, when I needed someone the most. He was the one who got me through it.
“You did what you had to do as well,” I whisper. “I know that.” I don’t explain what I’m talking about. Zeth knows, and his deep sigh tells me he’s been waiting for me to make up my mind on that front.
“Thank you,” he murmurs.
I shake my head, closing my eyes, determined not to cry anymore. “No. Thank you.”
Whoever Zeth is at his core, he’s killed to protect me, and he helped save my sister, for however short a time she may live.
He’s going against every single instinct he has, even remaining in this hospital right now, knowing the sort of questions that are going to be asked.
And he’s doing it all for me. He can hide behind the violence of his past all he likes, but I’m beginning to see the truth of him, and the good that he so desperately wants to hide.
We stand for a long time, not speaking. Just waiting, Zeth supporting me against him, breathing softly into my ear.
Two long hours later, a doctor comes to find us.
She’s young, a resident like me, wearing the same businesslike expression I wear when I come to deliver bad news.
My throat closes up at the sight of her, my legs finally buckling.
“Ms. Romera? You’re Alexis’s sister, correct?”
I nod, unable to get any words out.
“Alexis is in the ICU right now. We repaired two slow bleeds to her stomach and small bowel, but for now, we’ve done everything we can.
There’s a massive risk of infection from the first time she was opened, but we’re confident.
If Alexis makes it through the night, there’s a good chance she’ll survive. ”
A good chance. Doctors don’t use those words lightly.
I have never said them. The danger they will backfire is just too high for me.
This woman is either one hundred percent sure my sister will survive and is simply covering her ass, or she’s grossly negligent.
I pray with everything I have that she’s covering her ass.
ZETH
Neither of us sleep.
Neither of us eat.
We wait for the dawn, holding our breath. If Alexis makes it through the night, there’s a good chance she’ll survive. When the sun rises and we haven’t had any bad news, Sloane loses her fight against exhaustion. She passes out on the uncomfortable hospital chairs and sleeps like the dead.
The nurse comes back at ten to tell us Alexis’s stats are improving. She’s still unconscious, but they’re hoping she’ll wake up in the next few hours. I have to say I’m Sloane’s husband before the nurse will tell me any of that without waking Sloane up, though, and that feels… awkward.
At midday, Cade appears through the glass window of the family room. He sees me, sees Sloane still passed the fuck out, and gestures for me to come to him.
“Dude, we’ve been looking for you everywhere. This was the sixth hospital we tried before we saw your man outside.”
Michael’s waited for us. Goddamn hero. “You get away from Jacob’s without a problem?”
Cade rubs the back of his neck. “There was a bit of a stand-off. None of the boys got hurt too bad, though.” He turns and tenses as he looks back over his shoulder. Three Widow Makers are coming in hot, and the one at the front looks ready to kill. “Oh fuck. I said I’d come find you first.”
I stand my ground, squaring off, ready to start throwing fists if I have to. After everything that’s happened, I don’t give a shit that we’re in a hospital. I could really use the chance to break someone’s face.
The guy in front’s a monster. His hands are scuffed and already bloody. Looks like he’s started the fight without me. To Cade, he growls, “This him?”
Cade nods. “Yeah, this is Zeth.” He turns back to me with a look of apprehension on his face. “And this is—”
“Yeah, I know who this is,” I reply. “You’re Rebel.”
The guy nods. He’s wound up tighter than a fucking bowstring. He shakes as he takes a deep breath and says, “Thank you, man. Thank you for helping my wife.”