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“What does that mean in normal people terms, lady?” Luc asks, and I roll my eyes but keep my mouth shut.
“Sorry, yes of course, Mr. Saint,” she says, disdain dripping from the word Saint as she rolls her eyes at him. Fucking hell. “What I meant was the bullet entered the chest just below the fifth rib near the sternum and damaged part of the heart. We had to open his chest to fix it. In order to repair the right side of his heart, we had to put him on an ECMO machine since his heart stopped and his body continued to need oxygen. We were able to repair the hole in his heart and get it to start beating again. We then closed his chest. He’s lost a lot of blood, so the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours are critical. If we can find the blood, he might make it through the next forty-eight hours. If he makes it through the next forty eight-hours, his chances of survival increase, but if we don't find a donor in the next couple of hours, he won't survive the night.”
Pain rips through my chest at the thought of losing him. East not surviving isn’t acceptable. “I don’t care what it costs to do it, but you get that fucking blood.”
She quirks a brow at me before she nods.
“Can I see him?”
She looks me over like I’m nothing more than a hindrance, and at any other time I’d want her head on a fucking pike, but East isn’t out of the woods yet, so I need her alive for now. “He’s still on a ventilator and in critical condition, so you’re welcome in the room but…”
“I get it,” I growl, and she leaves the room without another word.
I can’t just do nothing. Uncle Luc claps a hand on my shoulder. “You head back to the house, kid, see what your friends have found out. Eat, shower, take care of yourself. I’ll stay here with East.”
I nod, thankful that I don’t have to once again choose between the two of them, and head outside, dropping a message in our group chat to let them know I’m coming home. I stride through the hospital and everyone gets the fuck out of my way. One of the few upsides of my surname today. Though if I didn’t have it, this wouldn’t be my life and I wouldn’t have been here in the first place.
I exit the front doors and take a deep breath, filling my lungs with the brisk air and taking a second to compose myself after this fucking day.
“Sainty!”
I look up and find a smirking Maverick behind the wheel of my Porsche.
“Need a ride?”
Usually I’d argue about being the one to drive, but today? Today I have other battles to fight, so I climb in the car and lean my head against the rest.
“We’re going to find her, right?” he asks as he pulls away from the curb.
“We’ll find her,” I say. I just wish I knew for certain we’ll find her in time.
