Page 132 of The Bridges I've Burned

“Yeah,” she answered. “And then maybe when we get in there, we can grab some water and rest for a minute?”

“Whatever you want, boss,” I told her.

I balanced a basket on my forearm before grabbing two more, and I was ready. A quick glance over at Marin told me she was, too.

We both closed the doors with our hips and headed inside.

Lani met us at the door with a bright smile. “Here, let me help you!” she said, ushering us in through the lobby. “Your family is lovely, Marin. And all settled in.”

“Thank you,” she said, a little breathless.

“You okay?” I asked, turning to her as Lani took the last basket from her hands and placed them on a table nearby.

“Yeah,” she answered, although she didn’t look it. In fact, she looked a little?—

“Marin!” I shouted as her thin frame crumpled toward the ground like a house of cards.

Lani and I both rushed toward her, managing to reach her just before her head hit the hard marble floor.

“Marin!” I shouted again, but she didn’t respond.

“I’m calling Jake,” Lani said, pulling out her phone. A few seconds later, I heard her frantic, clipped voice as I tried to bring Marin back to consciousness. “Jake’s on his way. I called Macon as well.”

We set Marin flat on the floor, and Lani went to grab some water and a pillow. I checked her pulse and breathing—all of which seemed normal.

At least I think they do.

What the fuck do I do? Shake her? Slap her?

I’d never felt so useless in my life.

“Come on, Marin,” I begged, and just when I was reconsidering that slapping idea, her eyes fluttered open.

“Oh, thank fuck.” I breathed a sigh of relief as the sound of a police siren came tearing down the street.

Macon was here.

“What happened?” Marin asked, looking around at Lani and me.

“You pass?—”

“Where is she?” Macon’s voice echoed as he threw the door open. He sounded like a man possessed, his eyes wild until they locked on Marin. He ran across the lobby and sank to his knees in front of her.

“I’m okay,” she assured him as he began checking her over.

“Where the fuck is Jake?” he growled.

“I’m here!” Jake said, sprinting into the hotel with a bag slung over his shoulder. He was a little out of breath, but otherwise calm as he knelt down on the other side of Marin, next to me. “I would have gotten here sooner if some asshat in a police car hadn’t cut me off.”

The fact that he was making a joke was good, right?

He wouldn’t be making a joke if this was a real emergency…

“Sorry,” Macon muttered.

“It’s okay,” he told him as he began checking Marin’s vitals, having already been briefed by Lani on what had happened. “I once left a patient mid-exam because I got a text from Molly that she was having some pain. I rushed all the way home. It was heartburn,” he deadpanned as he pulled out an O2 meter and his stethoscope. “Even doctors panic when their wives get pregnant.”

I stepped back then, letting them discuss what had happened and Marin’s symptoms. Eventually, Jake got up and asked me a few things about our day leading up to the fainting.

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