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I drop the phone and cradle Benjamin in my arms. “It’s okay. Everything will be okay. Your daddy will be here soon. He’s going to help us, okay? He’ll make sure you’re fine.”
I’m shocked to realize I’m not lying to make him feel better. I believe every word out of my mouth.
Timofey is going to fix all of this.
72
TIMOFEY
I fly around corners and speed through as many lights as I can. The thought of getting in an accident isn’t nearly as terrifying as the thought of losing Benjamin.
Piper must feel the same. She isn’t complaining at all that she’s wedged in the backseat with Benjamin and his car seat. Her claustrophobia should have her clawing at the windows, but when I glance in the rearview mirror, all of her attention is on the boy.
Even in the dark, I can tell her eyes are glassy with unshed tears. “His eyes are starting to close. I don’t know if he’s sleeping or—”
“We’re almost there,” I interrupt. “Two more minutes.”
She pokes at him, whispering sweet assurances in his ears to keep him awake.
The moment Piper called, I knew I had to be the one to get them to the hospital. An ambulance would take too long. And if something happened to him on the ride, I’d have no choice but to kill the EMTs in retaliation.
No, it had to be me. Piper didn’t fight me on that. Nor did she hesitate to jump in the car with us.
“The emergency room is over there,” she says, leaning into the front seat to point out the passenger side window.
I’m already careening through the parking lot towards the brightly lit red sign.
“Get him out of his seat,” I tell her.
“But we’re still moving. It’s not—”
“Now,” I order. “I don’t want to waste another second.”
I hear the straps being loosened and by the time I slam the car into park and climb out, Piper is handing Benjamin’s small body to me through the back door.
He looks worse than he did when I first got to the house. His usually rosy cheeks are pale with a gray pallor. His wide, bright eyes are flat. He looks like a badly made baby doll, a poor reproduction of the happy boy I’m used to.
I hold him in the warm crook of my arm and sprint towards the front doors.
I hear the rumble of an engine and turn just as Piper waves to me from the driver’s side window. “Go on ahead. I’ll park the car.”
Stepping into the artificially bright emergency room is disorienting, but I don’t slow my pace. I weave around rows of uncomfortable plastic chairs and miserable people to the nurse’s station along the back wall.
Without looking up, an older nurse slides a tablet that is chained to the desk towards me. “Sign in and we’ll get to you when—”
“Right fucking now,” I growl.
She looks up, lip curled and ready for a fight. But when she sees Benjamin, her eyes widen. “What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s turning blue, not crying, not eating,” I say, listing off everything I can remember Piper saying. But this woman is smart. She can tell as well as I can that something is seriously wrong.
She presses a button on her desk and hustles around, plucking Benjamin from my arms and placing a stethoscope against his chest.
I was ready to tell her that I’ve donated millions of dollars to this hospital and she needs to show Benjamin the best care they have or I’ll burn the entire place to the ground. But it seems Benjamin is doing all the heavy lifting for me.
“What wrong, sweet boy?” the nurse murmurs. She frowns as she runs a thumb over the back of his hand.
The entrance doors slide open and Piper rushes in, her head turning frantically before she sees us standing at the front desk. She skids to a stop next to me. “Are you taking him back now?”
