Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 694(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 694(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Good luck getting Lucian to consent to another visitor when he was walking on Ativan clouds.
We’d do our best, but it wasn’t even worth trying with Noa. He and I could see Lucian tomorrow; it was much more important that Cam got to go in. I suspected he’d spend the night as well.
Either way, Lucian needed to sleep. Who got to see him tonight was, in the grand scheme of things, not what mattered.
I clenched my jaw as the prickling and numbing sensations in my legs started becoming more than I could handle, and I pushed through the last set of doors. Slow night in the emergency room; aside from two older ladies, I only spotted Noa, Santiago, and Gael.
“Finally!” Noa bolted up from his chair, visibly tense and worried, and grabbed my braces from the seat next to his, then ran over to me.
A breath gusted out of me as soon as he was in my arms. One of the crutches clanked against the floor, and I squeezed him tightly.
My sweet boy—I needed him as much as I needed air. His mere presence centered me, reenergized me, and calmed me down.
I trapped the other crutch under my arm and cupped his face in my hands. Forehead to forehead, I kissed his freckled cheeks, his eyelids, his nose—and I hated the redness around his eyes. He’d been upset.
“He’s going to be okay,” I promised.
He sniffled and nodded. “What happened?”
I…didn’t know how to respond. “We don’t know for sure yet, but I guess the gist of it is that his body can’t handle that amount of stress anymore. He needs to slow down.”
Noa’s eyes welled up, and he inched away to glare at nothing. “I hate his stupid job,” he whispered.
Noticing Santiago walking toward us, I gathered Noa close and kissed the top of his head. I hated Lucian’s job too. It’d been years since he’d actually enjoyed it. Whatever drove him now was… I didn’t even know. A compulsive need to deliver. Pressure. Habit.
As Santiago reached us, Noa eased away from me, only to bend down and pick up my braces. I hadn’t even noticed he’d dropped them.
“Thanks for being here tonight,” I said.
“Don’t mention it,” Santiago replied.
I split my focus temporarily while Noa got busy with putting on my braces outside my pants. He grunted and made it as tight as he could, then slapped the Velcro straps into place. The relief was instant—not enough, but it would do for now.
In the meantime, Santiago gave me a quick update as well. Noa had eaten a bag of Doritos from the vending machine, and as for Cam…
“I don’t know, to be honest,” he went on tiredly. “Dean texted me a few minutes ago, and he wants you to go outside when you have a moment. I think they’re just out front.”
Noa looked up at me with a scowl. “Cameron wouldn’t let me go out with him for fresh air.”
Something was definitely up. I combed my fingers through Noa’s hair and turned to Santiago again. “I’ll go out and talk to him. Would you mind…?” I trailed off with a nod at Noa, and Santiago got it.
“Hell no, we’ll be here for as long as you need us.” He tilted his head at Noa and offered a solid Daddy smile. “How about I get you and Gael some snacks, little one?”
Noa looked up in question to me.
I kissed his forehead, eternally grateful for Santiago. “I think that sounds great. I’ll be back soon.”
“Okay, but hurry, please.” He fidgeted a little, and my boy wasn’t the fidgety type.
I needed this night to be over. I needed my family close, in my arms, where I could watch over them.
“I promise, freckles.”
The moment I stepped outside and was met by the cold air, I only grew more suspicious. Nobody wanted to stay out here for a long period of time to get fresh air. March had just begun, and nights could still drop below forty-five degrees.
Goddamn, my legs were killing me. Even with braces and crutches, my limit to what I could push through was approaching real quick. I peered around the wide entrance, spotting a handful of people, perhaps family members of patients, and it took me a beat to spot Cam. And Dean. They were standing on the curb some thirty or forty feet away, so I headed toward them.
Judging by their body language, Cam was closing in on himself, and Dean was…oh, probably holding down the fort till I got there.
Cam saw me first and folded his arms over his chest, all while his shoulders sagged, revealing defeat and resignation.
“Master Dean won’t let me leave,” he mumbled.
He wanted to leave.
I swallowed hard and closed the last distance. “I owe him one, in other words.” I sent Dean a quick look of gratitude.