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My eyes sear, tears stinging them as we run towards Tina’s car, only thoughts of my daughter in my head. How could this have happened? Was Logan not watching her, keeping an eye on what she was eating? He knows she’s allergic to peanuts. Where the hell was her EpiPen? I always make sure to pack it in her overnight bag. When we jump into Tina’s car, my heart hasn’t slowed down at all, and I will a panic attack away as she starts the car and immediately starts moving.
I squeeze my eyes shut as I sit in the backseat, feeling the tears roll down my cheeks, and a hand squeezes my knee. I open my eyes to see Bianca reaching back from where she sits in the passenger seat, looking at me over her shoulder. In a firm tone, she says, “She’ll be okay. She’s going to be okay, Daria.”
All I can do is nod jerkily, an impossible-to-move lump lodged in my throat. My heart pounds away as Tina drives, and I’m glad she’s the one behind the wheel because out of the three of us, she’s a bit of a reckless driver. And that’s exactly the kind of driving we need right now to get to the hospital as fast as we can.
Please let her be okay. Please, please, let my baby girl be okay.
My lips quiver as I repeat the prayers like a mantra, trying to breathe through my nose to calm my racing heart as I wipe my face. I can’t stop my shaking hands from grabbing my phone and sending Logan a text.
Daria:Are you in the ER? Is she okay?
I know there’s a chance he won’t see my text and part of me is hoping all of his attention is on our daughter. But I still need some reassurance, some updates on what the fuck is going on. In front of me, I hear Tina muttering to herself, cursing at other drivers as she weaves our way down the roads. I know for a fact she’s ready to break any and every traffic law to get us there as quickly as possible.
After what feels like a harrowing forever, Tina pulls the car into the ER’s parking lot, and I’m practically flying out of the car before she’s even parked it and running towards the doors. My skin feels like it’s on fire from anxiety and terror as I rush to the nurse’s station. The nurse behind the desk looks up at me in alarm, and my voice is trembling as I say, “M-My daughter was brought in for an allergic reaction. Her name is E-Elaine Riley.”
The nurse types away on the computer quickly, my knees shaking, and she nods and hurriedly says, “Bed four. Go right in, it’s straight ahead.”
I thank her hastily and rush through the sliding doors into the ER, my frantic gaze searching ahead of me. The air rushes out of my lungs as I see my daughter lying on a bed directly in front of me on the other side, and I’m running forward, just barely missing doctors and nurses that are walking around.
“Oh, my God—Elaine,” I gasp tearfully as I reach the bed. The upper half of the bed is propped up, making her lie in an almost seated position. My hand goes to her forehead, brushing away strands of blonde hair, and I revel in the sight of her chest moving up and down at a steady rhythm. She’s hooked up to an IV, color still in her cheeks, and I can only breathe slightly easier with her in front of me. Some of the fear dissipates, the worry still present as my voice hardens and I demand, “What the hell happened?”
My gaze swings to Logan, who has been sitting on a chair on the other side of the bed. He looks weary and haggard, but I don’t give a damn. I want to grab him by the collar and shake him and ask how the hell he could’ve let this happen under his watch.
“We went out to eat,” he explains, running a hand through already messy hair, like he’d been tugging at the roots. “She wanted dessert, so we got something at the restaurant. She. . . She’d eaten half of the cake before she started having trouble breathing, and that’s—” His throat works, jaw tight. “That’s when I realized there’d been peanuts in the cake. The doctors gave her epinephrine. They said she’ll be fine.”
Horror wraps around my heart like a vice, just vaguely aware of Bianca and Tina coming up to the bed, even as relief comes from the news that the doctors said she will be okay. My hand is resting on Elaine’s shoulder, needing to feel her, but my fiery gaze is set on Logan. “Where washerEpiPen?” I ask through gritted teeth, eyes burning.
Logan’s lips purse, guilt rightfully flooding his gaze. “We forgot it at home.”
I want to fuckingpunchhim at his use ofwe—as if Elaine, a three-year-old, is responsible for carrying around her EpiPen when it’s her parents’ jobs to do so. I never leave the house without it, and I always keep another in her overnight bag when she’s spending the night at Logan’s or Cody’s. And Logan just. . .Forgotit at his place?
How many times has he potentially taken her out in the past to get something to eat and forgot to bring the EpiPen with him? How many times could this have potentially almost have happened?
“Un-fucking-believable,” I breathe out, my voice nearly drowned out by the bustle of the emergency room. I’m staring at Logan in utter disbelief and disgust as Bianca and Tina come to stand by my side, but my gaze is fixed on him from across the bed. “How could you be so fucking irresponsible?”
The guilt on his face intensifies.Good. “Daria—”
“She could havedied,” I hiss out, my voice breaking at the mere idea of losing Elaine. My chest is so tight, like I can’t breathe, and I can’t even begin to imagine the fear Elaine must have felt as she went through anaphylactic shock. Her going through that—it makes me fucking nauseous that it happened in the first place, and that I wasn’t there for her. I know Logan looks guilty and scared, but my anger is overwhelming, mixing with terror, and I can’t stop myself from spitting out, “You could’ve killed her.”
He looks horrified at my words, but I can’t bring myself to care. All of my worry is for my daughter, who sleeps soundly now, but had gone through something terrifying. If Logan had been even a second late, she wouldn’t be here, and the thought of my daughter dying makes me dizzy with a paralyzing terror I don’t ever want to experience again.
The dizziness doesn’t subside. The world spins a little, my grip on Elaine’s shoulder loosening, and with my pulse still a little quick, I find myself swaying. But before I can even topple over, a pair of large, warm hands grab my arms from behind and an achingly familiar voice says, “I got you, honey.”
My chest expands as I recognize Caden’s voice, and feel his solid chest against my back. Gaze sliding over Logan’s shocked expression, I look up and behind me, and a quiet sob escapes me at the sight of Caden. His expression is grim, but eyes soft as he holds me and looks down at me, and I’m instantly turning to him and burying my face in his chest.
My emotions get the best of me, and tears leak out of my eyes as I cry into his chest, overwhelmed over this whole Goddamn situation. His familiar scent wraps around me just as his arms do, holding me close and letting me get my tears out as I feel him rub my back. “It’s okay, you’re okay,” he murmurs quietly in my ear. “And Elaine’s okay. It’s going to be fine, Ria.”
God, I’m so glad he’s here. His comforting voice and embrace calms my pounding heart down, and I cling onto him as I choke out another sob before trying to pull myself together.
“Mama?”
A gasp rips through me at the sweet voice and I’m instantly turning around, my teary gaze going towards Elaine, who looks up at me with those gorgeous blue eyes flooded with confusion. Wiping my face, a trembling smile touches my lips as I pull away from Caden—though my hand grasps his to pull him along—and sit down on the edge of the bed, my back to Logan.
“Hi, baby,” I say a little breathlessly. Tina and Bianca step closer too, Caden standing right by me as I use my free hand to cup Elaine’s cheek. “I’m here.” I sniff as she leans into my touch, my heart swelling as I promise her, “I’m not going anywhere.”
16
CADEN
