Standing, I walk around the corner of the waiting area, dreading this conversation with her folks. Her old man picks up on the first ring. “Hey there, son, how’s the honeymoon going?”
I swallow hard, and my voice sounds husky as I try to explain. “Sir, you need to get down here, something’s happened to Jasmine.”
Silence. Complete silence. Did he not hear me?
“Sir, you there?” I ask, wondering if the phone disconnected.
“I’m here,” he says quietly, but then emotion runs through his voice. “What’s happened to my baby girl?”
“Jackson, what’s going on, what’s happened?” I hear Jasmine’s mom in the background.
“Sir, we’re at St. John’s Hospital. She’s fine, but she’s had a fall,” I explain, half telling the truth. Now is not the time to explain we had a war with a drug lord happen at my clubhouse.
“Oh my God, the baby, how’s the baby doin’?”
“They haven’t told me much. All I know is she’s in surgery, and I know she’ll want you guys here.”
“Yes, you’re right,” Jackson answers. “We’ll catch the next flight, you just tell my baby that we’re on our way.”
“I will, sir. Just one more thing.”
“What’s that, son?”
“Luisa has been shot. I can’t explain it all to you now, but can you please let her folks know, they may want to hurry and get down here too.”
“She’s been shot?” he yells. “Son, what the hell is going on down there?”
I sigh, and lean against the hospital wall, banging my head against it a couple of times.
“I’ll explain when you get down here, now’s not the time.”
“Okay, son, I’ll call them. We’ll see you as soon as we can get there.”
“Right, thank you.”
I hang up and bend over, pulling at my hair. How the fuck am I going to explain this?
Jasmine.
Jasmine and the baby are the only thing that matter right now.