Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“You don’t rate a last name?” Howie asked. He wasn’t joking.
“My last name is hard to pronounce and Dr. Mark is easier to remember,” Dr. Mark said, giving Howie a tired smile.
“How’s our boy?” Louise asked, giving Howie a warning glare.
“Ma’am, your son’s injuries were extensive and he’d lost a lot of blood,” Dr. Halstead said. He crossed his arms over his chest, gripping his biceps. “But we’ve repaired the worst—the wounds in his chest and thigh. We had to remove part of his lung—” Louise inhaled sharply. “His hands may require another surgery at a later date, but the lacerations on his face have been stitched. He has a concussion and his cheekbone is broken, but those will heal on their own in time.”
“Okay,” Louise said shakily.
“Our biggest concern now is infection,” Dr. Mark said. “So we’ll have him on a large dose of antibiotics and we’ll monitor him in the ICU for a few days.”
“Thank you,” Howie said, reaching out to shake hands with both men.
“Absolutely,” Dr. Mark said.
“You should be able to go back and see him soon,” Dr. Halstead said. “Only a couple people at a time.” He looked around the room. “Maybe stick to just a small group.”
“Only a few of us will go back,” I said, my lips curving into a small smile as I glanced back at the crowded room behind me. “They’re all here for us.”
Dr. Halstead nodded, then both doctors turned and walked back where they came from.
That’s when the crash I’d felt coming on for hours hit me. I looked up and met Lily’s eyes as I spoke to Louise. “You’ll tell Kara?”
“Sure, honey.”
I kept my shit together until Lily led me into the small bathroom down the hall. Then, with a gasp, I let myself fall apart.
“Here,” Lily said, pulling off her hoodie. She rolled it into a ball and shoved it in my face.
The scent of her laundry detergent filled my nose as I pressed the sweatshirt hard against my face and screamed. All of the pain and fear and helplessness and rage poured out of me as I wailed against that blue sweatshirt, the noise barely muffled in the fabric.
By the time I was finished, I was gasping for air.
“All done?” Lily asked, wetting a paper towel in the sink.
“For now,” I rasped tiredly.
“Good,” she said, handing me the towel. “Wipe your face and get your shit together, because you need to go see Mack.”
“You’re such an asshole,” I muttered, cleaning off my face.
“If I tried to console you right now, we’d never leave this bathroom,” she said, knowingly. “I’ll hug you and cry with you later.”
I opened the bathroom door just as Louise raised her fist to knock on it.
“They said we can go back to see him,” she said. “He’s one floor up.”
The hallway and waiting room passed by in a blur, and the elevator felt so stifling I wished I’d taken the stairs. I could barely stand still as the nurse signed us into the ICU and gave us little stickers with Mack’s room number on them.
“Me and your nana are going to go first,” I told Kara, smoothing the sticker onto the chest of her jean jacket. “Then one of us will come out and get you, okay?”
“Maybe I should go with you, and Nana can go with Grandpa,” Kara said, her eyes wide and scared.
“We’ll be right back,” I said softly, cupping her cheek in my hand. “Promise.”
I stepped away as Howie wrapped his arm around Kara’s shoulders, then me and Lou followed the nurse down the hallway.
“I could’ve waited,” Lou said softly.
“I want to make sure it won’t scare her,” I replied, my eyes on the nurse in front of us. “And I need to be calm before she gets in there.”
I held my breath as the nurse stopped at a sliding glass door and gave us a small smile.
Then all breath left my lungs when I got my first look at Mack.
Louise made a small noise of sorrow, but I couldn’t comfort her. I was too busy staying on my feet.
He was gray, his face slack and clean shaven. It was the first time I’d ever seen the shape of his jaw or the small mole low on his cheek. There were tubes and wires everywhere. They hung from beneath his blanket, filled his mouth, and disappeared beneath the skin on his arms. It was terrifying, but as air filled my lungs again, I realized it wasn’t half as terrifying as the moment I’d left him tied to that chair.
I moved toward him without conscious thought, and my nose stung with unshed tears as I laced my fingers with his.
“I’m here,” I whispered, leaning close to his ear. “I love you. I’m here.”
The constant beep of his heart monitor comforted me as I stood straight again.