Page 94 of Park Avenue Player


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“Shit.”

I returned to staring out the window as Hollis navigated the city. The streets were so empty. I looked at the clock on the dashboard. Two thirty in the morning. That explained why it was still dark out, and the roads were so desolate in Manhattan.

“I wanted her to meet you,” I whispered.

“I will. If she’s anything like her friend, she’s tough, and she’ll pull through this.”

The drive to Bridgeport was normally about two hours, but Hollis was flying.

“You know,” he said, “when my mom was sick, I remember watching the news at night and getting pissed off at some guy who had robbed an old woman at gun point and pistol-whipped her unconscious.”

I looked over at him. He glanced at me and back at the road.

“That asshole was walking around perfectly healthy, and my mom was lying in bed, fighting for her next breath. It just made me angry.”

I hadn’t thought of the fact that Bree’s plight could bring up some heavy feelings for Hollis. “I go back and forth between angry and upset,” I told him. “Angry is easier to deal with.”

Hollis smiled. “I never would have guessed that.”

Even at the darkest time, he could cheer me up. I squeezed his hand. “Thank you for jumping in the car without asking a single question.”

“Of course. I wish there was more I could do than just drive you. I wish I could carry the weight you have on your shoulders.”

“Having you next to me makes me feel like I’m not carrying anything alone anymore.”

“I’m glad. Because you’re not.”

We arrived at Bridgeport Hospital in record time. Hollis pulled in and stopped at the parking lot entrance. “Want me to drop you off at the front door and meet you inside?”

“No. If you don’t mind, I’d rather park and go in with you. I’m nervous about what I’m walking into.”

“Of course.”

Hollis parked, and we walked hand in hand to the hospital’s front entrance. The doors were tall and wide and loomed ahead ominously. Each step made the lump in my throat grow.

“Do you know where she is, or do we need to go to the front desk to ask?”

“Tobias texted me a little while ago and said she was moved to the ICU. She’s in bed three.”

We rode the elevator up to the fourth floor and followed the signs to the Intensive Care Unit. When we came to a set of closed double doors, there was a button to push to open them, and a hand sanitizer dispenser on the wall right next to it. Hollis and I both squirted some Purell into our palms, and then I took a deep breath.

“You ready?” he said.

I forced a small smile. “No, but let’s go in anyway.”

Hollis used his elbow to push the button on the wall, and the double doors creaked open. The room was large, with a dozen or so beds positioned around the outer rim and a large nurses’ station in the middle. We walked to the nearest available nurse. “Can you tell me where bed three is, please?”

She pointed to a corner of the room where the curtain was closed and frowned. “There’s some family in there now, but you can join them.”

“Thank you.”

Hollis put his hand on my back. “Do you want me to wait here?”

“No. If you don’t mind, I’d really like you to stay with me.”

“Whatever you want.”

He guided us over to bed three. The curtain around the area hung a foot or so from the floor, so I could see three sets of feet. I assumed they belonged to Bree’s dad, stepmom, and Tobias. When we got close, I felt a wave of relief to hear machines beeping. I’d been terrified we took too long to get here.

I turned to Hollis and let out a ragged breath. “Machines. I hear the machines.”

He smiled. “That’s good.”

Someone must’ve heard us, because the curtain suddenly slid open. Mariah stood at the foot of the bed, blocking my view of Bree. She turned around, took one look at me, and pulled me to her. I got my first glimpse of my best friend over her stepmother’s shoulder.

A tube was down her throat, taped to her face to hold it in place. And a loud machine positioned next to the bed simulated the in-and-out sound of breathing. Her skin was so pale, and she looked so tiny and young. My chest hurt so badly.

Mariah released me, and I looked over at Bree’s dad and Tobias. Neither one of them seemed to be paying any attention to me. They were too busy staring over my shoulder.

“Oh, I’m sorry. This is…”

“Hollis,” Bree’s dad interrupted.

I looked between them, confused. “How did you know his name?”

It felt like there was some sort of staring contest going on that I wasn’t part of. Everyone seemed to have their attention fixed on the man behind me. Yet they all said nothing.

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