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Thank god. He’s breathing.
What am I going to do? My mind races, trying to think of any first aid advice I’ve learned over my lifetime. Which isn’t much.
What if he dies?
Oh god, I can’t think straight. I’m going to have to call an ambulance, take the risk. I can’t let him die. I should call Jameson. Melanie! Oh god, Monroe. She’s loyal to my brother, but her oath to help people will always come first to her. It’s what makes her such a good doctor. That’s what we need: a doctor. I should have called her when we first got free. Instead, I let him rescue my mother and pull the stitches he had to do himself because I passed out. God, I suck.
Plugging the house phone back into the wall, I hold the receiver, staring down at the numbers. No one remembers numbers these days. Hers is on my phone with a pretty picture of her and my brother I took at a barbecue this summer. Said phone is back at my mothers. Crap.
Oh god, think.
A notebook placed by the phone spells out “Important numbers” in black ink. It’s probably useless but I find myself picking it up and flicking it open anyway. There’s a list of names in neat handwriting, including Lily’s, the doctor’s office, plumber, and one labelled BH hospital.
“Hospital!” I screech to myself, racking my brain for the days she usually works. They could have changed since I lived with them. Dammit. Punching the numbers in with trembling fingers, I wait, evening out my breathing and hoping for the best.
“BH Medical,” a woman answers.
“Hello. I need to speak to Doctor Monroe. It’s urgent,” I rush out.
“Department?” Crap. Who knows that stuff?
“I don’t know. This is a family emergency. Can you just put a call out?” I beg.
“Hold please” Classical music fills the line as I wait. Every second feels like an eternity.
“Hello?” Melanie’s voice comes down the line.
“Melanie, it’s Ruby.” A small spark of relief ignites within me. I’m not alone.
“What’s going on?” Her voice rises.
“I need you. Just you. Come alone. And don’t tell anyone please,” I plead.
“You’re scaring me, Ruby. Where are you?”
“I’m at Lily’s grandparents’. Someone’s hurt. I think they have an infection. Please come help us.”
“Is it Lily?” The tone in her voice dips.
“No, no, it’s someone else. Please, Melanie. I don’t have anyone else to call.”
“I’ll come now. Don’t move, okay?”
The line goes dead before I can respond.
Walking back over to Ezekiel, I place my hand on his forehead. He’s on fire. Rushing to the kitchen, I turn on the cold faucet, dampen a kitchen towel, and take it back through, placing it on his head. “You’re going to be okay,” I assure him, dabbing his face and chest. Needing to cool him down more, I open the closest window and pace the carpet.
Thirty-three minutes I count down on the clock before the doorbell rings.
“Thank god you’re here,” I say as I open the front door. I check the surroundings for anyone watching or going past but the street is empty.
“I came straight here, but Jameson has been trying to reach you at school. Your dorm friend Sherry said you were on campus.”
Sherry covered for me? She’s getting a gift if we ever make it out of this. “Something happened at your mother’s. Your brother couldn’t find her. She’s missing, Ruby. Copper is going through surveillance as we speak,” Melanie drones out, stripping off her jacket.
“It’s fine. She’s fine. Come with me.” I urge her to walk through the house to where Ezekiel is lying.
“What happened?” she breathes, dropping her bag and going over to him, fingers expertly assessing his body.
“He was stabbed,” I say, telling her the truth. No point in lying.
“Open my bag.” She checks his pulse, looking at her watch. “How long has he been unconscious?”
“Since I called you. He’s been in pain for a couple days but then he just blacked out.”
“His wounds are infected. Who the hell did these stitches?” she grits out, shaking her head, worry lines crinkling her eyes.
“We both did,” I answer, embarrassed we were stupid enough to think this wouldn’t be the outcome.
“Ruby…” she looks up at me, concern creasing her brow, “what the hell is going on? Why are you here with him?”
“It’s a long story,” I breathe out. I’m so freaking tired, I want to sleep for a week.
“I have time.” She pulls out her medical kit with syringes and injects him with three separate vials.
“What are those?” I ask. My gut is in turmoil.
“Antibiotics, a multivitamin, and pain killer. I’m going to have to re-stitch his wounds and clean them.” She rubs alcohol into her hands.
“Will he be okay?” I need her to say yes.
“Yes, but you should have taken him to the hospital or called me when it first happened.” Her eyes drift to his Royal Brother tattoo. “Your brother is going to lose his mind when he finds out you’re here with a brother. What were you thinking?” She sounds like how a mother should. I wasn’t always a fan of hers because I was a brat and feared she’d take Jameson away from Lily and me. It was selfish and foolish. She’s been so good for him. For us.
