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“Oh my God.” I shove back there, not caring if I’m not technically allowed. “You’re okay. When they called, I thought?—”
“He was here, Luke.” She shakes her head, her eyes glossy with tears and her face stained from them. “He put a knife to my face. He…”
Her eyes flare wide before a terrible sob racks her entire body, and I pull her into my arms.
“She…she…”
“Hey, now. Try to breathe, doc. You’re okay.”
Clara shakes against me, pulling herself back. The pain on her face cuts to my core, making my chest ache.
“He killed her. That monster killed…” Her voice is loud, but she doesn’t finish the sentence.
I’m left looking around at the people near us as Clara cries. An older woman, a nurse I recognize from drop-offs and my brief stay here, approaches.
“The guy ran off down the hall. Security couldn’t catch him.” She hangs her head for a moment. “He stabbed Dr. Carter on his way out. She didn’t make it.”
My mouth falls open. I’ve heard Clara talk about her. Dr. Carter was her mentor, her closest friend, from what I understand.
“Oh, fuck.” I’m still holding Clara in my arms, and I squeeze tighter. “Babe, I’m so sorry.”
She’s shaking against me, shaking so damn hard.
This is wrong. This is my fucking fault. If I had been here to check things out. Dammit!
My gut is churning, and it has nothing to do with my hangover at this point. Guilt and pain and regret swirl in my blood, eating through me like acid.
I always check the hospital before I leave. I haven’t told Clara about it, but I never just drop her off.
And today, I didn’t because I was a fucking mess.
Why couldn’t she have just waited? I would have been ready in five minutes. I could have prevented this.
We could have prevented this.
The room feels too small. I pull back from Clara for a moment; the weight of her presence around me is stifling.
“Can we…go somewhere more private?”
Clara looks up. There’s something behind her eyes like she’s going through a catalog of things she needs to address.
Why can’t you just move? Make a decision?
My blood boils hotter in my veins. I know Clara has just lost someone she cared about deeply, but this is like the military.
There is no time for standing around. Sometimes, you can’t just wait and see. Sometimes, the slow and steady path is the wrong one.
Delays and inaction. They get people hurt—get people killed.
Clara needed to listen to me. She needed to stop going to the damn hospital when I said she should.
Which, of course, had been weeks ago when all this started. Clara could have prevented this if she’d listened to me immediately.
Why does no one fucking listen to me? Fuck, she could have been killed. Done, gone, nothing but a stain on the fucking floor!
“Um, sure.” She stands up, looking around and nodding at the elevators. “I could use some fresh air.”
I follow after her, and it’s dead fucking quiet as we ride down to the main level.
