Chapter 42 #2
Every fiber of my being screams no. I’m not leaving her. Maybe I say the words out loud? Or my face says it for me. Either way, the man closest locks eyes with me. “We can’t help her until we’ve moved you. The faster you’re out, the faster we’re in.”
There’s a click and my door is wrenched open. The seat belt is jammed and has to be cut, and then I’m out, my boots hitting slippery wet ground. I let them guide me, one agonizing movement at a time.
The second I’m clear, I turn back to watch one of them climb in. He shines a penlight in her eyes, his voice calm as he calls out to his partner over the rain.
“Pupils are sluggish. Left is larger. Let’s prep the board.”
Sluggish doesn’t sound good. What the hell does sluggish mean? But they’re both so calm. Panic claws at my chest, climbing its way up my throat. They’re too calm.
They work quickly, one in the front seat and another from the back, securing her neck in collar type thing, cutting her seat belt while I stand in the rain, shaking and useless while strangers take care of the woman I love.
“On three,” one of them shouts. “One, two, three!” They move her across the console and slide her onto a bright yellow board, securing all the straps across her motionless body.
I catch a glimpse of her face, all the scratches and streaks of blood, rain-soaked hair clinging to one cheek. If they’d let me near her, I could tuck it behind her ear, wipe the raindrops from her skin.
“We’ve got her. Watch your footing!”
I follow behind them, trudging up the muddy embankment, boots slipping in red clay mud. At the top a stretcher waits, and they waste no time positioning her onto it and moving her through the open doors of the ambulance.
“Cassie!” I yell, but the wind swallows my words. “I’m coming with her,” I say, grabbing the edge of the door.
The paramedic hesitates and looks to his partner who sighs and shrugs. “Hop in.”
The doors slam shut and we’re moving. I never let go of Cassie’s hand while the paramedics do their job.
I answer the questions I can, her name, how the wreck happened while they hook her up to monitors and check her vitals.
Something is said about her blood pressure and panic seizes me all over again.
“I need you to be okay.” My voice is barely above a whisper. Leaning forward, elbows on my knees, I press a hand to her forehead. Rain water drips from my hair onto her fingers and then to the floor.
“I love you so much, Cassandra James. I need you to hold on. We have a long life to live, do you hear me? Mutt is waiting at home for us. We have places to see together. A whole beautiful life to live.” I keep talking with no clue if she can hear me, but if she can I need her to know I’m here.
“Blood pressure is rising,” one paramedic says, grabbing an oxygen mask and securing it to Cassie’s face. A sob tries its damndest to rise in my throat again, but I swallow it back down. I have to hold it together for both of us.
Through the narrow window of the door, I see the lights of the hospital approaching, blurred by the rain.
Somewhere inside those walls, Austin is holding Penny’s hand while she brings new life into the world.
Our friends and family are all together with no clue about the wreck. No clue the condition Cassie is in.
The ambulance slows, rolling over a speed bump and comes to a stop.
The doors open and the paramedics move quickly, gliding the stretcher out.
I’m right behind them, matching their pace.
The sliding glass of the ER doors part and it’s the smell that hits me, an antiseptic sterile smell nearly makes my knees buckle.
I remember reading once that the reason smells illicit certain memories is because the part of your brain that controls the sense of smells is beside the part that holds memories.
I don’t know if that’s true, but my body has a visceral reaction.
The paramedics wheel Cassie through a set of double doors and a nurse steps up, blocking my path.
“Sir, we need to take her back. Are you family?”
Yes. No. I’m hers and she’s mine. My everything.
“She’s my girlfriend.” What a paltry word for what she is to me.
“We’ll take good care of her.” She pats me on the arm. “You look like you need to be seen, so if you’ll sign in at the desk, someone can see you soon.”
“I’m fine. What I need is to see Cassie.” I try to step around her, but she blocks my path.
“Sir, I need you to wait here and someone will come get you as soon as we know more.”
She’s gone. And I wait.
My phone starts to ring from my pocket, startling me from my haze. Squinting, I see through the spider-webbed screen, Josie’s name.
“What the hell happened?” She starts before I’ve even said hello. “You know I have Cassie on Life 360. I got a notification when y’all crashed.”
“Did you tell Austin?”
“Not yet. I was waiting to hear from you before I freaked him out.”
I fall silent. Should she tell him? Penny’s giving birth and his sister might be dying on an exam table for all I know.
“Liam?” Josie’s voice wavers. But I can’t speak. “Liam!” she snaps. “How bad?”
“I—” I take a shaky breath. “I don’t know.”
“Penny hasn’t even started pushing yet. I’m coming down.”
The call ends and I lower my phone, slowly sliding down the wall until I’m sitting on the floor of the ER waiting room with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands.
My clothes are soaked. My body won’t stop shaking and my ribs throb with every breath.
I send up a silent prayer for a baby who is fighting their way into the world too soon and the love of my life, who I desperately need to be okay.
Is she still breathing? Is my angel still in this world with me? She has to be. We can’t lose what we’ve built. I can’t lose her.
Footsteps approach, and I lift my head to see Josie, tears streaming down her face. Behind her are both of my parents.
Josie drops to her knees in front of me and grabs my chin in a fierce grip. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” I open my mouth but nothing comes out. I guess she sees the answer on my face because she pulls me into a tight hug that makes my ribs scream out, but I don’t care.
“They took her back,” I manage after a couple tries. “She hit her head. Hasn’t woken up.”
Josie pulls back, hands swiping at her face. “I needed to see you with my own eyes. But Austin will know something’s wrong when he realizes half of us have disappeared.” She squeezes my hand, hard. “She’s tough, Liam. You know she is. She’ll be okay.”
She gives me a quick kiss on the top of my head and stands, disappearing back down the hall.
Lifting my head, I make eye contact with my dad who stands a few feet away. His arms are crossed, jaw working. He gives me a single nod. The kind that says I’m here and I love you without a single word.
But it’s my mom who moves first.
She doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t ask for details. She just lowers to the nasty ER floor beside me in her crisp white jeans and wraps both arms around me. The very same way she used to when I was a kid. The way she did two years ago in this very spot.
The tears come and don’t stop. I don’t have it in me to fight them anymore.
Every bit of composure I’ve held onto since those tires left the road collapses.
I cry in a way I haven’t done in years. Ugly wracking sobs.
The kind that comes from somewhere deep within you when tears are the only language you know to speak.
“I can’t do this again, Mom.” I don’t even recognize my voice as my own. “I don’t have it in me. I can’t.”
She doesn’t serve me empty platitudes or promise Cassie will be okay. She just holds me tighter, cheek pressed to the top of my head, and lets me fall apart on a dirty hospital floor while life hangs in the balance.