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The stabbing in my stomach is a constant companion. The knife goes in and out. In and out and death seems imminent.
I’ll die after I see her.
I hang my head. Arms wrapped around my stomach. Lo doesn’t talk much as he drives to the airport. But I sense him glancing at me, and he slips out his phone at a stop light to text. Probably checking on his kids.
My head spins, dizzy from the pain and I blow out steady, controlled breaths.
The car starts up again, and when Lo turns the corner, I see the sign to Philly General Hospital. Ambulances pass us, and Lo pulls up to the emergency room.
“No, no, no,” I say quickly. “I’m fucking fi…” I put my hand over my mouth to stop myself from blowing chunks.
Lo parks and quickly hops out of the car. Not sure when we lost the paparazzi but they’re MIA. His bodyguard and another big burly security guy flank him immediately.
“I’m not asking,” Lo tells me as he opens my door. “So either you get out of the car, or I carry you out.”
I don’t have the energy to reply. I’m half here. Half gone to the pain. I barely step onto the pavement before my legs buckle. Someone yells for a wheelchair. It all feels overly dramatic as hell, and I hate it. Too many eyes on me. Weak shit. I hear my brothers.
Fuck.
My head is off my shoulders. Up in the clouds. I don’t know how I enter the hospital, but someone shoves a blue plastic bag underneath my chin. I vomit.
“Yeah, we’re here,” Lo says, cell pressed to his ear. “They’re bringing him back now…” I lose time and focus. Lo squeezes my shoulder, I think. So I know he’s still here with me.
I’m on some hospital bed and the nausea has subsided enough for the pain in my stomach to come back full-force. I’m seconds away from curling into a tiny ball, and when a doctor comes in to check on me, I can’t say much but a few moans and grunts.
A nurse starts an IV, and I hear something about oxy. Maybe that’s just in my head though. Hopeful thinking.
All I know is that I can’t die here. Not without seeing her one last time.
Everyone leaves.
That’s when it starts getting easier to breathe. Only for some reason, I can only do it through my nose. Otherwise I feel like hurling again.
Lo watches me. “I don’t know if you heard—”
I shake my head. I heard jack shit.
“The doctor thinks your appendix might have burst. You’re going to have to get a CT scan.”
Panic blisters every cell in my body. “And if he’s right?”
“It’ll have to be removed.”
Surgery. Okay, it’s alright. It’s okay, I convince myself. “How long will that take?” I ask. “I can still make my flight, right? The private plane will wait for me.” There’s that hope.
Lo tilts his head and looks at me, deeper. “You really love her, huh?”
“Man, I just want to see her,” I choke.
Lo rubs the back of his neck and glances nervously to the window. Maybe he feels for me. I don’t know. I can’t read him. “I want to tell you something…” He shakes his head. “Never mind. I’m not gonna fuck it up. Just lie back and enjoy the narcotics.” He waves me off.
I’m confused. But that confusion dies when his bodyguard slips into the room. “Mr. Hale, I just wanted to let you know that the media has been tipped off that you’re here with Mr. Abbey.”
Great.
Another cherry on top of this motherfucking pie.
Lo nods. “Thanks. I’ll get our publicist on it.” The bodyguard leaves, and Lo glances to me. “Everything’s alright.”
It doesn’t feel that way.
“Garrison!” Willow calls my name. At least, it sounds like her voice. Faint but recognizable.
Awesome.
I’m hearing her in my head now.
“Garrison!” What the fuck?
I look to Lo. He’s smiling. Did he hear her too?
With a wince, I pull my body up, my heart thrashing against my chest.
Lo leans out of the doorway. “In here!” he calls out.
And then a second later, I see her.
Brown hair flying out of her messy braid, she bounds close to me and catches my hand in hers. “Garrison, are you okay? Oh my God, you look so pale. And you’re burning up.” Worry breaches every part of her.
My hand glides to her cheek. “Are you real?” I ask. How high am I?
She laughs softly between overcome tears, misting her black-framed glasses. “It was going to be a surprise. My flight was supposed to get in before you even left for the airport. But it got delayed and messed everything up and then Lo texted and said he was taking you to the hospital and I rushed here. And please say something, you look like you’re dead. You’re not dead, right?” Alarm leeches her voice, and quickly, she takes my pulse.
