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I laugh, “When have I ever done anything stupid?” I ask
mockingly, walking out of the door.
* * *
When I arrive at the hospital, there is so much going
on. Nurses rushing in and out of the waiting room and EMS
bringing patients in. We live on the rough side of town, so
someone is always being shot.
68
Hell, I think some of our guys are in the hospital at
least once a week. We have a couple of doctors on payroll,
so no questions asked.
I make my way to the front desk and ask for Emma’s
room number. The receptionist looks up her name before
telling me that she’s still in surgery.
“What happened to her?” I ask urgently.
The receptionist hesitates for a moment before replying:
“I’m not sure, all I know is that she was badly beaten and
stabbed.”
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My heart sinks as I realize just how bad things must have
been for Emma. If she had been beaten and stabbed badly
enough to require surgery, it meant that whoever had done
this to her was capable of extreme violence. But I’m
capable of much, much
I take a seat in the waiting room, trying to keep my
thoughts from spiraling out of control. It feels like hours
pass before finally one of Pops’ men comes over with an
update.
“She made it through surgery,” he says quietly. “But it’s
not looking good.”
