Page 9 of The Prez

She pats one of my hand and says, “Come on, sugar. Let me get you to someone that can help you.”

Anger still simmering but knowing there’s nothing I can do if I don’t want to be tossed out on my ass with no answers, I drop my hands, blow out a breath and step back. I push my hand through my hair, tugging at the strands since I don’t know what the fuck to do. I always have the answers. I always know what to do, but right now, I’m fucking clueless.

Sighing heavily again, I nod. “Yeah. Okay.” Begrudgingly, I say, “Thanks.” A warm smile stretches her brown cheeks before she pats my hand again and starts off down the hallway. I have no choice but to follow.

She leads me to a waiting room and tells me to have a seat, but I can’t. I’m too restless, too amped up. So, I pace. Back and forth, back and forth, eight steps forward, eight steps back. Over and over again for untold minutes. I wear a track in the room, impatient to hear what the fuck is going on, but dreading getting bad news. The sound of my shoes hitting the linoleum floor is the only noise to be heard, since I’m making a conscious effort to control my erratic breathing.

Sometime later, Jace finds me, but he doesn’t speak or ask me to stop pacing. He simply sits in one of the chairs and follows me with his eyes but gives me space. The staring is fucking working my nerves, but I think I would snap and attack Jace if he tried to touch me right now. My brother knows me well.

Thirty minutes later, a doctor in green scrubs walks in, his face grave and his brown hair flopping over his high forehead. He sighs and holds his hand out for me to shake. “I’mDr. Goldberg. I was the lead surgeon on your sister’s case tonight.”

I pause, looking down at his hand, but don’t take it. “Where is she?”

He lowers his hand and fiddles with the pens in his pocket, then does the same to his stethoscope. “Mr. Suarez?—”

“Orozco,” I correct. Jace comes to stand beside me, his quiet strength grounding me.

“Mr. Orozco,” he amends. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but Elena died from a massive stroke. She had severe internal bleeding, but we remedied that when she was brought in during emergency surgery. She was in recovery and we thought she was on the mend when her vital signs tanked. We tried to get her back, but … I’m sorry, sir, but we did everything we could.”

Blood rushes through my ears as I absorb what he just said. It can’t be. Not her. Not her too. Elena is gone. My little sister. My hermanita.

“Fuck,” Jace whispers, putting a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Prez.”

The doctor raises an eyebrow but doesn’t ask questions. “Can I see her?” My voice cracks, so I clear my throat and ask again. “Elena? Can I see my sister?”

“Of course,” Dr. Goldberg says quickly, but compassionately. “If you’ll follow me.”

Jace gives me a pat on the shoulder and another whispered condolence before I follow the doctor.

He leads me down winding hallways, to an elevator we take down many floors until we arrive in the basement. He ushers me out and walks in front of me. My eyes drift involuntarily up to the sign on the archway in bright blue letters.Morgue.

Dr. Goldberg tells me to wait a moment, steps into aroom and quickly shuts the door. Again, I pace the small area, willing my body by force not to shiver in the cold, decrepit space. It feels ominous here. It feels … dead.

A few minutes later, his face looking even more somber, Dr Goldberg opens the door wide and gestures me inside. When I step in, there’s a table in the middle of the floor, a sheet pulled over the very obvious body. I’ve seen plenty of bodies in my years in Devil’s Mayhem. Some that I was responsible for sending to the afterlife. But none were my hermanita. This is different.

Dragging in a deep breath, I step over to the table and Dr. Goldberg nods at the attendant, who lowers the sheet. I come face to face with Elena for the first time in over twenty years. She’s gotten older. Prettier. Age and growth turned her into a beautiful woman. Though she’s bruised and had deep cuts along her cheek and forehead, she’s gorgeous. She looks just like Mama.

“Take all the time you need,” Dr. Goldberg says, standing at a respectful distance.

I gaze down at the face of my little sister, trying to memorize all the lines and grooves, discarding the cuts and bruises. I run a finger over her forehead to brush her hair back like I used to do when we were children. She used to hate her bangs, saying when she was old enough, she’d ask Mama not to cut them anymore. Looks like she embraced them as she aged. Her hair was always thick and wild just over her forehead. It was one of my favorite things about her. With my eyes closed, my memory conjures up her giggles as she slapped my hand away from messing with her thick tresses.

So much has changed, so much time has passed. Now it’s too late.

After a few minutes, I pull the sheet over her face and stalk out of the room without a word. I stomp down the hall to the elevator and angrily press the up button, wanting, no,needingto get the fuck out of here. After all these years, seeing Elena like that … it’s too much. The tatters. The frayed edges. They’re burning and it’s all I can do to keep it together before they completely disintegrate, leaving me a hollowed out husk.

“Mr. Orozco, wait,” Dr. Goldberg says behind me. “I have her personal effects, as well as those of her husband, Alejandro. Also, there is a social worker that needs to have a word with you.”

I ignore him, no longer interested in anything he has to say. My sister is dead. There’s nothing else I have to do here. It’s done. I’ll have the hospital ship her body to Tennessee where I’ll hold a private service for her and add her to the tally of the dead that I house in my steel covered heart.

He manages to catch the elevator before it shuts and my glare does nothing to make him step off. Seems like the citizens around here are made of sterner stuff than Mellbind.

When we step off the elevator, Dr. Goldberg branches off to the nurses’ station at a hurried clip. I pat my pockets, searching for my phone so I can text Jace, but I remember I left it on the charger in my office. I left so fast, I didn’t get the chance to grab it. Luckily, I had my wallet in my pocket. I curse, wanting to get out of this fucking hospital, but I have no way of contacting Jace besides finding him. I think about having the nurses page him, but I don’t want to talk to anyone.

I get lost on my way to the waiting room because my mind is too clouded to follow the directions on the walls. Running my hand through my hair, I stop walking and look down at my feet, pulling in several long breaths to clear my mind. I push images of grown-up Elena—with her thick bangs covering the wide gash on her forehead—from my mind and try to fucking get myself under control. I’m never out of sorts. Even when Christian died, even when the clubwas threatened, even when we were raided after Sam called that tip in about Rax, I never lost my cool. I can’t start now. If I do, I won’t be able to rein it back in.

Deep breathing doesn’t completely work, but I’m able to focus enough to locate the sign that points to the waiting room we were in.

When I step inside, I see a short, severely rigid woman standing next to Jace. He up nods me and steps away from the woman. “Hey, Prez,” he says. “You okay?”

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