Page 92 of Shameless

What if she dies and I’m not there?

“Someone will give you an update as soon as they can. All you can do is wait.”

I nod. “I know. I’m sorry, I just?—”

He claps my shoulder, the sympathy in his eyes is the scariest thing. He doesn’t say that Jenna will be ok. “She lost a lot of blood. She was lucky the cut was just near an artery. A fraction of an inch to the left, and it would have been a different story.”

It’s all my fucking fault. I got distracted at dinner and didn’t notice when she slipped out.

The doors of the waiting room open and the first person I see is Crew, followed by Lula and Stefan.

If anyone had told me that I would have ever been relieved to see Crew James, I would have asked them what the fuck they had been smoking, but here we are.

“How is she?” his tone is kind.

My first instinct is to lash out. Why is he being so nice? Does he think Jenna isn’t going to make it?

Thank fuck I manage to bite my tongue before I can say something I’m going to regret.

I shake my head. “I don’t know. The paramedic was here a second ago. They said she lost a lot of blood. They took her into there and I don’t know how long it’s been. No one will tell me anything. I?—”

Lula has one of those thermal blankets the paramedics keep in their kits wrapped around her shoulders. Her arms surround my waist, her head against my chest.

I bury my face in her soft, dark hair.

She doesn’t say anything, but just her presence gives me comfort.

“Jules, baby.” Mom, Tom and Tilly arrive shortly after. “How’s our baby girl?”

I nod in the direction of the double doors that keep people out of the treatment area. “Where’s Jasmine?” I ask.

“We put her in a cab. She should get here soon. She didn’t want to ride with us.”

A sigh escapes my lips. Jasmine has always thought that Mom doesn’t like her. She isn’t wrong, but this was hardly the time to argue.

The realization hits me that my feelings for Lula, Jasmine’s inability to be faithful and her disinterest in being a mom to our daughter were the tip of the iceberg of why our relationship was doomed. Even if I had been head over heels for my ex, she’s too self-centered to care for anyone other than herself. She’s too selfish to put our daughter’s wellbeing first even in an emergency.

A doctor comes out from the doors I just pointed out to Mom.

“Jenna Cutler?”

Lula tries to let me go, but I drag her with me. If the doctor is here to deliver bad news, I need her close.

“I’m her father. Doctor, how is she?”

The doctor is a thin, dark haired woman, probably in her thirties. Her brown eyes soften. “We’re doing all we can, but she isn’t out of the woods yet. Jenna has a concussion and she needs atransfusion. Today has been a hellish night so far.” She says, looking at the doors behind her back and at the full waiting room.

I was so worried about Jenna, that I didn’t notice a few people with bleeding wounds, and others in various states of distress.

“We’re pretty low on our blood supply, so I would like to ask if any of her family members want to donate blood to Jenna?”

I have no hesitation. “I’ll do it.”

If Jenna needed a kidney, a piece of my liver, a fucking lung, I would give it to her.

“If you follow me,” the doctor’s smile is tight. “We can check your blood type and?—”

“I have this.” I offer her my blood donor card. “We did a blood drive in high school and I’ve been coming here to donate blood regularly.”

---