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Screw it.I lean on the van horn with all my weight to get his attention. Punk looks out the window at me, frowning. Again, I honk to alert him to get his butt moving.
He races out of the mini-mart, throwing open the driver’s door. His eyes are full of panic. “What’s going on?”
“We need to go to the hospital—Now!”
He hops in the van, not even fully seated, before throwing the vehicle in reverse. As soon as he has it out of the stall, he slams it in drive and speeds in the direction of the hospital.
“Talk to me, Jo. What the fuck is happening?”
“Something’s wrong with the babies! The clinic called and said my labs were in and that I needed to come right away.” I sob into my hands.
The van revs up, hurtling down the city streets.
Punk flies into the hospital parking lot before slowing for pedestrians walking to and from the hospital.
“I need to go to the clinic.”
“The fuck you are. We’re going straight to the ER.”
“No, Punk. The nurse told me to meet Doctor Stoll at the clinic,” I snap in panic as he starts to go to the wrong entrance.
“We’re not going to the fucking clinic if there’s something wrong with the babies,” he shouts back.
“I’m not fucking around with my kids, Punk. Take me to the clinic!”
He slams on the brakes as a little old lady walks across the parking lot. We’re near the entrance to take me to the Women’s Health Care Clinic. I’m not going to the ER just to turn tail in the opposite direction.
Fuck it. I grab my purse, open the door, and jump out.”
“Jo! Get your ass back here,” he yells after me.
But I’m already running for the entrance.
The doors slide open for me as I race inside and toward the elevators. My fingers jab the buttons, which thankfully open immediately. The doors close right as Punk reaches them. I hear the bang of his fist and the curses flying from his mouth before I’m taken up to the sixth floor. I hit the ground running as soon as the doors open.
When I reach the clinic door, I burst through right into the waiting area.
Exhausted from sprinting, I don’t even register what’s going on around me ‘till it’s too late.
The entire waiting area is being held at gunpoint by men in face masks. In for their appointments, other patients cower on the ground with their hands clasped over their heads and tears covering their cheeks. Whimpers and pleas fall from their trembling lips.
My head swivels toward reception. Nurse Abby is staring at me, her eyes wide with fear and a gun trained at her head. “I’m sorry,” she mouths.
Oh. My. God.
I’ve been hoodwinked.
My eyes drift toward the doors between the waiting area and the exam rooms. Slumped against the wall is Doctor Stoll with a gunshot wound in his chest. He’s unmoving and silent.
My vision tunnels, my purse slips from my numb fingers, and my legs shake. There’s only one person I can think of who would go to such lengths to get to me.
No! God, nooo!
The tapping of shoes crossing the tile floor is the only thing I hear as a giant man comes into my field of vision. My chest tightens, and I hyperventilate.
The room spins and I get a sense I’m falling. Before I hit the ground, powerful arms catch me, cradling me like a child. I stare up into the familiar black eyes of an older version of Maceo.
“Josefina,” Esteban croons affectionately, a genuine smile growing on his face.“Estoy tan feliz de concerte, mi querida niña.”
