Page 89 of Bona Fide

? Everything Changes — Staind ?

“Areyou sure I can’t get you a chair, sir?” I shake my head at the same nurse that asked me over an hour ago. She’s young, mid-thirties maybe, and she hasn’t stopped looking at me since I brought Reagan to the hospital. I should be worried that she’ll recognize me, but I’m not.

Far from it.

My brain is too busy trying to think of a way to make things better. To get better doctors to attend to Reagan’s mom because I need to do something. Standing in the hallway while waiting for her to come out is like slowly pulling my hair out of my head.

I’ve never felt so fucking helpless in my life.

“Let me know if you change your mind,” she conveys, tugging a piece of brown hair behind her ear. Code for: I’m here to fuck if you need to get your mind off things.

I give her another curt nod, and she saunters off in her green scrubs, only pulling her gaze away from me when her head is physically not able to look at me anymore.

Pulling out my phone, I shoot a text to Em telling her to get me the best pulmonary specialist in the country over here to St. Joseph’s Hospital. Money isn’t an issue, I’ll pay for the flight, food, rooming, his time—anything. As long as he saves Reagan’s mom, I’ll do whatever the asshole wants me to do.

Em: What happened?

Me: Reagan’s mom is in the hospital. Get on that specialist right now.

“Did you want me to check in there to see how she’s doing?”

The nurse again.

“I don’t want them to be disturbed,” I deadpan, hitting her with my famous glare.

She forces a weak smile. “Of course. Just let me know if you need that chair.” I want to tell her that she can go get it if I could take it to the back of her head without going to jail but refrain.

Em: Waiting for a response back.

That was about twenty minutes ago while I’ve taken up pacing and counting the stained tiles of the floor.

Me: Money is no issue. Make sure it happens.

Em: You know I will. What happened?

Me: Fire. She never woke up. Firefighters had her in the ambulance by the time we got there.

Em: How is she?

She means Reagan. My strong, alpha, badass woman who wouldn’t show an ounce of weakness. She’d slay me in a fucking millisecond with the power she wields in her curves and mouth. I thought I was a fucking heartless asshole, but while Reagan might not be as vocal about her emotions, she disguises hers well.

Me: I know she’s a fucking mess. She barely spoke. I don’t know what the hell to do.

Em: Let her come to you, just be there.

Me: I’m here with security all over the fucking place secretly hiding and blending in.

Em: How did Reagan know about the fire?

I stare at her question and blink. I remember asking Reagan before we left, but I haven’t thought about it anymore. I was too concerned and out of sorts with her silence that all I could think about was her.

She was on the phone, I heard her yelling from the other room...

Me: I don’t know, she was on the phone.

I shake my head.

There is no fucking way in hell. No, no, that’s literally impossible.

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