Page 168 of Cook

With the three men and four women, the elevator was too full. Almost like a cage. I pulled at my collar as my throat started to constrict. Everything pressed in on me. Sweat broke out on my forehead and trickled down my back, but I felt cold all at once.

“Maddie?” Roni’s voice sounded alarmed as her hand reached for my wrist. Her small fingers pressed into the side. “Her pulse is too fast.” She looked up at Celt.

The elevator dinged, the doors opened, the bodies poured out, and finally—finally!—I drew in a breath.

Bou grabbed my shoulders and stared into my eyes. “You’re almost to Cook, Maddie. Come with me.”

I gave her a shaky nod and picked up my feet. I could do this. I needed to be strong for Daddy. He needed to know I could hold myself together. One foot forward. Another.

We walked down a hallway, past a nurse’s station, and stopped at a door that looked like all the rest. There were chairs lined up along the hallway.

“Why don’t you go in, Maddie?” said Wilde.

I had many reasons not to. I didn’t want to see Cook hooked up to machines. I didn’t know how I would react to seeing him weak, not smiling. I wanted him strong and protective, dominant and punishing. Those were the things I loved about Daddy, and it terrified me to see him weak.

Closing my eyes, I took several deep breaths. I forced my eyes open to the hospital hallway.

I needed Cook.

Walking over to the door, I was about to push it open but paused. I was trembling. I was about to fall again. I couldn’t do this.

“Roni,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure she could hear my peep over the bustling hallway. Nurses going about their duties. Doctors visiting all the rooms. A beeping somewhere. The white noise that sounded like we were in a wind tunnel.

“Yeah, Maddie?” Roni took my hand.

“Can you come with me?” I asked.

“The doctor only said one person could go in,” explained Wilde. “We’ve been taking turns.”

I stared at the hospital room door, still unable to push it open.

“It’s okay, Maddie,” said Roni. “We’ll be right out here. Go see your man.”

My man.

I pushed the door aside and stepped in. Immediately, the beeping from the machines hit me.

So loud.

Beeping. Ringing. Overlapping sounds swirled around me.

Cook lay in the bed, cords and tubes connected to him. A white blanket was pulled to the middle of his chest. He didn’t sleep like that. Never that peaceful and never at that angle. He never slept on his back—always on his side and a little curled up.

It wasn’t natural for him.

He was a limp shell of himself, his head tilting back and Adam’s apple sticking out of his thick neck.

The door shut, and I turned back and grabbed the handle. I couldn’t be locked inside here. Another cage. But I couldn’t leave Cook alone.

With a deep sigh, I gathered myself and then faced him. “Cook,” I croaked, my throat raw. The antiseptic burned my nostrils and slid down my mouth. I forced myself forward a few steps. “Cook,” I repeated, my voice a little stronger now.

He didn’t stir either time. He probably wouldn’t. The machine alerted me, at least, that he still lived.

“Wake up,” I said, trying to use the tone that he often used on me. It fell flat, because I could never boss him around. “Can you just be okay? I need you to be okay. Please be okay.” I took his hand.

It lacked the warmth and the pressure that it normally had. He didn’t even twitch.

He always woke up for me. Why wouldn’t he do it now?

---