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“Can you tell me anything about Liam?” His brows furrow, so I elaborate. “Liam Parsons. We were brought in at the same time.”
Recognition flashes on his face. “Ah. I can’t tell you anything directly—not without seeing his chart and his permissions—but I’ll see if we can get someone to tell you something.”
“His friends and family are in the waiting room,” Angel tells him.
Dr. Flannery nods. “That works. I’ll have them go out there,” he pauses for a moment, “assuming you will want to wait for information.”
“I’m not leaving here until Liam does.” I sniffle and wipe my eyes with my hand.
He nods. “Okay. We’ll get your discharge papers, and I’ll see what I can do about getting you information.”
Ten minutes later, after I’ve changed into the sweats Josephine sent with Angel, we enter the waiting room. A groan tumbles from me when a bony, lanky body slams into mine. “I’m still mad at you,” she says, sniffling hard. “But I would never forgive you if you died on me. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
I untangle her long limbs from around me. Telling her thank you, I love you—anything else would probably be the correct response, but all I can manage is, “Did they tell you anything about your dad?”
Her lips fold between her teeth, and she shakes her head. “Just that they’re running tests and stuff to determine the extent of the damage. They said he was awake and responsive when they brought him in, though. So that must be a good thing, right?”
Defeat washes over me. I was hoping someone would’ve told them something while I was being discharged.
Henry walks over to me, pulling me against his chest. “Glad you’re okay,” he says, then drops his voice to a whisper. “If anything happened to you, he wouldn’t survive it.”
“But if anything happens to him, I won’t survive,” I say against his chest, my words muffled. When I pull back, I wince at the mess I leave on his shirt. “Sorry.”
He grabs both sides of my head, dropping a kiss as he laughed. “You’re good, sweetheart. No worse than baby spit up.”
He leads me to a chair, and I sit, curling my legs under me as I lean against my brother. I swipe at tears leaking from my eyes with annoyance. There’s no reason to cry. He’ll be fine.
“Where’s my boy?” Deanna Parsons’ voice echoes as she enters the stark room, looking like a force to be reckoned with. Most women who give off the vibes of power and determination in this city do so because they hide behind their power suits and perfectly coifed hair. They weaponize their designer clothes and flawless makeup to intimidate other women. Deanna simply is that. Even in blue jeans and a t-shirt with kittens on the front, and her blond hair in a ponytail. She would put those other women to the test. Her determined steps clap against the tiles as she makes a beeline for Casey, her husband following behind. “My baby. Any word?”
“H-how did they get here so fast?” I ask no one in particular.
“Maddox,” Henry says the only explanation needed because that means Maddox either sent the company jet or chartered a private plane for them.
Casey’s blue eyes look like liquid pools as she shakes her head and leans into her grandmother. “Nothing, really, Dee Dee.”
“We’re still waiting for them to finish the tests, but they’ve reassured us they believe nothing is critical.” Henry hugs her tight, then shakes Gene Parsons’ hand.
“The doctor that examined me said he would get someone out here to update us, but that was about fifteen minutes ago,” I tell them.
“Lily?” She looks at me curiously. “You were there? Did you see what happened?”
Shit.
“I-uh…” My eyes snap to Henry, pleading for help. The bastard turns around with a fake cough.
His parents don’t know about us yet.
What? We’ve been busy. We actually planned to go to Kentucky this weekend to tell them. We were looking forward to it. He wanted to show me places he loved as a kid. I wasn’t sure how I felt about seeing all the places he shared with psycho skank, but I was willing for him. Looks like that idea is dead in the water.
Really, Lily? You couldn’t come up with a better metaphor?
His mom stares at me for a beat, questions rolling in the blue depths. I don’t want to overstep. She is Liam’s mother. But I will not be intimidated by her.
“Parsons.” We all turn and find an older doctor standing near the doors that lead to the exam rooms.
“That’s us,” Mr. Parsons’ deep voice booms.
The doctor looks at us all, and I pray silently that he doesn’t take Casey and the Parsons to a private room. I see the war in his eyes and don’t try to hide my exhale when I see his decision.
