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Before I know it, we're pulling up outside the emergency department. "Zach should be here any minute," Gabe says as he swings his truck into a parking space.
I nod to let him know I heard him, and together we exit his truck and head for the double doors beneath the illuminated red cross.
I'm half tempted to storm the desk, but Gabe yanks on the back of my shirt and whispers for me to chill.
"Can I help you?" the nurse asks.
"Has Emmalyn Price been brought in? She came by ambulance."
"Are you family?"
I don't make the same mistake I did with the ambulance. "Yes, her husband."
Gabe nearly chokes on air, garnering him a few strange looks.
The woman behind the desk gives me a soft smile. "She was brought in about ten minutes ago. That's all I can tell you at this time. You fellas can take a seat in the waiting area, I'll do my best to keep you updated."
"Thanks," I say tersely, balling my hands into tight fists by my sides.
"Hopefully the doctor will be out to speak with you soon."
Gabe grabs the back of my shirt and tugs me toward the waiting area.
"Husband?" he asks, as we each drop down into a too-small yellow chair.
The unforgiving plastic bites into my side, another painful reminder of where I am and why I'm here. "Told the paramedics I was her boyfriend and he shut me out."
Gabe nods. "At least you did something smart."
"Listen, I get you're upset—"
"Upset?" Gabe bellows. "Try furious! You're nothing but bad news."
"Listen," I say, my voice deadly calm, despite wanting to shout and rage. "I love her. I. Fucking. Love. Her. We had a fucked-up start and a crooked journey, but she is everything to me. Do you hear me? Everything. And you can blame me all you want, you can hate me all you want, but it'll never be more than I hate myself."
I hunch over, propping my elbows on my knees, burying my head in my hands.
"You love her?" Gabe asks quietly from beside me.
"Yeah, man. I love her."
* * *
"Where is she? What's happening? Is she okay?" Zach demands as he approaches where we're seated.
"We don't know anything yet," Gabe says, opening his arms for his boyfriend.
Zach leans down and pulls him close before releasing him. He then leans over and hugs me, too, shocking the hell out of me.
"So how is it your boyfriend over there punched me and you're hugging me?"
Zach smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Because he didn't see the look on your face when that video came on for everyone to see. He didn't see how utterly devastated you were. I did. A man doesn't fake a look like that, especially when he doesn't have an audience. Now, what happened?"
"Overdose."
"Damn. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it's about to get worse."
I sit upright in my seat. "Why? What do you know?"
"Nothing. It's just... one of us has to call Stella."
"Shit. Not me!" Gabe says. "There's no way I can break my sunshine's heart."
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose and then pull my phone from my pocket. "I'll do it," I say, dialing her number.
"Hey, Sterling?"
"Yeah, it's me."
"What's going on?"
"Listen, have you gotten any weird texts tonight?"
"Yeah, how did you know?"
"Did you look at it?"
"No. It came during dinner, and Mom hates phones at the table. Plus, I typically ignore unfamiliar numbers. Why?"
"Okay, good." A fraction of the weight on my chest eases. At least Stella didn't see the video with her own two eyes.
"You're freaking me out."
"There was an accident."
"What kind of accident?" she asks, a wobble to her voice.
"Emmalyn overdosed." The words sound as unfathomable and foreign now as they did the first time I said them.
"What? Wait, what?"
"We don't know anything yet. We're at Central North."
"I'm on my way," she says and the line goes dead.
I slide my phone back into my pocket and lean my head back against the wall, wondering how tonight went so sideways.
Rob. It all comes back to Rob.
While I'm not exactly spotless, he's the real reason we're here. He's utterly unhinged and is in need of some serious help.
With the way money talks, I doubt he'll ever see any jail time, but I'm damn sure going to push for him to face the consequences of his actions to the fullest extent possible. Be that from a rehab facility, or monetarily, he will pay.
Fifteen minutes later Stella, along with a man I don't know, bursts into the waiting area. "Have you heard from the doctor?"
"Not yet," Gabe says.
Her friend takes a seat but she begins pacing anxiously in front of the row of chairs we've claimed as our own.
Back and forth she paces, well as best she can her walking boot, until the man she brought with her reaches out and grabs her by the shoulder and forcibly seats her down onto his lap.
