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She sniffled a little before finally listening to me.
But as she walked toward her door, her legs went limp, and I lunged forward with my good leg to catch her body.
“Claire?” I patted her cheek. “C’mon, baby,” I urged, but her eyes didn’t open.
I hooked my left arm under her knees and used my right arm to cradle her back before hoisting her up. There’s no way I could use my crutches or just hop on one foot. I tested a little weight on my cast and grunted. It’d have to do.
A few steps later, I could hear and feel the plaster under my right foot starting to crack, but I pushed forward. I’d figure that out later.
As soon as we made it outside to the sidewalk and into the cool night air, Claire’s eyelids fluttered open, and she looked up at me with worried, unfocused eyes. “Your foot!”
I took a deep breath. This probably really wasn’t the smartest move, but I had no choice. “This is serious, Claire,” I told her.
That shut her up… but a second later, her eyes were misting and her lower lip quivered.
“Nope. My Claire doesn’t cry unless she’s going to lose. And you never lose. Ever. You’re my tough girl. Be tough.”
She closed her eyes tightly against a wave of pain. “I’m scared, Duke.”
And I knew how much it took for her to admit that to me.
“I know, baby. But it’ll be okay. I’ve got you. I’ll protect you.” I looked into her eyes and was taken back to when we were kids. “I pinky promise, babe.”
She tucked her head in close to my chest.
“On the bright side, I finally get to carry you,” I grunted. “Pissed me the hell off when TJ did it at the bar.”
That made her smile a little, until pain overtook her face again.
She was whimpering and crunching forward into a ball the entire drive to the hospital. I drove as quickly as I safely could and pulled up right to where the ambulances usually arrived.
Staff in scrubs came to yell at me until I shouted at them through the window what was going on.
Things moved fast then.
They opened the car door and transported her into the hospital on a stretcher. The sight of her being wheeled in cut at me.
I closed my eyes tightly and leaned my head against the wheel. I tried taking deep breaths, but they were coming in and out all choppy. I repeated to myself that she would be fine, but another voice argued that I didn’t know that. Hell, I didn’t even know what was wrong with her.
It took me a second to realize that questions were being shouted at me.
“Sir, look at me! When was the last time she ate?”
I turned to see a woman around my sister’s age staring at me. She was wearing scrubs and holding a clipboard.
I racked my brain to answer her question. “A little bit around 6 maybe? She didn’t have much of an appetite.”
Fuck. I should’ve pushed a little more, asked more questions. I was with her for all of one day and I already screwed shit up. I wasn’t cut out to be a boyfriend.
“Focus on me,” the doctor ordered. “You’re helping her by answering questions right now.” That finally pulled my eyes from the imaginary wake left by Claire back to her. “Did she sustain any trauma to the abdominal area recently?”
“Uhh…” I rubbed my forehead as I tried to think through the last couple days.
The fall in the lobby flashed in my mind. Her coming down on that douchebag’s shoulder.
“Yes, yes,” I nodded. “She’s a pairs figure skater. Her stomach landed on her partner’s shoulder… Could that have caused it?” I asked weakly.
“We won’t know until we get in there.”
