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Anyway, I’m at the reception desk, lost in my pity party for one, when a loud, abrasive man rushes into the clinic, holding an infant out in front of him. I jolt in surprise and everyone in the waiting room turns to watch with wide, wary eyes.
“Help! Help my baby!” he slurs, his glassy eyes struggling to focus. The man stumbles across the lobby and closer to my desk. “Karli, help! He’s burning up. He’s so hot!”
Recognition sets in.
My heart rate triples. I bolt up from my seat.
It’s Razor. And that squirming baby in his arms is my precious godson.
“Oh my god!” I rush out from behind my desk to meet Layla’s boyfriend and their baby boy. Sky’s tiny face is flushed and not at all normal.
I’m about to sweep Sky from his father’s arms, when my brother appears, pushing his way into the mix.
“I’ve got him.” Felix takes the baby and Razor promptly slumps against the reception counter. “Call for an ambulance, Karli,” my brother orders me.
My hands are shaking as I pick up the phone and make the call.
In a heartbeat, Mason is right alongside Felix, and the two of them dart into the nearest exam room with Sky.
My chest pounds, adrenaline spiking. I turn around and shove Razor’s shoulder.
“What the hell happened?” I demand.And why does the asshole stink like sweat and cheap whiskey?
He drags his hand through his greasy hair. “I-I don’t know. I put him down on the rug to play and fell asleep for ‘just one second’. One second. And then…and then…he started crying, like really loud, and…” Razor struggles to get his thoughts together.
From the condition he’s in, I know he didn’t fall asleep for ‘just one second’. It’s obvious that this bum passed out for hours, leaving that baby unattended. Did Sky put something in his mouth? Did he bump his head? What the hell happened to that poor child? And don’t tell me Razor drove his car all the way over here as drunk as he is.
“Why the hell didn’t you take the baby straight to the emergency room?!” Our clinic is just that. A clinic. We don’t have the proper equipment, machinery, nor staff to triage and handle life-threatening emergencies. A sober, half sane person would know that.
“I…I didn’t..” Razor just continues to stutter.
“Idiot.” I shoot him a dark look as he moseys on over to a seat in the waiting room.
Jeez. I really hate that guy.
Turning away from him, I try to call Layla. I’m so scared for her. But my friend doesn’t pick up. She was supposed to be at a job interview this morning. Which is probably why the drunk douchebag over here was on parent duty.And he fucked that up, big time.
If anything happens to Sky, I’ll strangle Razor myself. And I won’t feel a shred of remorse. I’ll assassinate him. I will do the world a favor and assassinate that useless bum of a man.
The loud shrill of sirens breaks me out of my murderous thoughts, and I jolt back into action.
I dart down the hall to open the side door and let the paramedics in. I stand back and watch Felix and Mason help load Sky into the ambulance. The sight of my godchild looking so tiny and fragile on that stretcher sends tears pouring down my cheeks.
“I’m coming,” I rasp. I hop into the back of the ambulance, no hesitation.
Before I can park my butt on the bench, I hear my name. I find Mason leaning through the ambulance doors.
He cups my wet cheek in his big, comforting hand.“Don’t cry, Princess. Everything will be okay.”
Latching onto the reassurance in his eyes, I nod into his palm. I want to believe him fully but I’m too far away. The frantic, anxious part of me is completely focused on nothing but the wellbeing of my best friend’s sick son.
Not thinking straight, I tug Mason forward by his necktie and press my lips to his. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss me back. His lips crush firmly against mine and for one second, I feel relief.
“We gotta go,” a gruff voice reminds us.
Mason and I both jolt apart.
There’s a painfully awkward moment between us, where neither one of us has the right words to say. But I hope my eyes say that I’m sorry.
