Page 33 of I Am Lioness

He nodded in agreement.

Curling my legs beneath me, I let my hair loose from the tight bun on top of my head and glanced at Bernie from the corner of my eye. “So what are your thoughts on Knox coming here for a weekend?” I asked, bracing myself for an answer I didn’t care to hear.

Bernie eyed me from the short distance separating us and hooked an ankle over his knee. “I'm not opposed to it. I'd like to get to know the man better myself, however, do you really think you need that sort of distraction right now?”

“Wanting to see him is already a distraction.” I admitted.

“I take it this means you two have been keeping in touch?”

“Very much so. I was attracted to him before, Bern, but now”—I could feel myself blushing—“now that I know so much more about him, I have no doubts about moving forward once we make it home. He asked about you a few weeks ago, you know. About how you and I met…”

Bernie’s eyes widened and he shifted in his seat.

“I told him everything, dirty details included. He’s thankful for you, Pops, thankful that you saved me, that you essentially brought me back to life.”

He tipped his head, a curt smile hiking up one corner of his mouth. “I'm glad he took it well then. What else have you…” He paused suddenly, wincing, a look of pain flashing across his face. His eyebrows knit together as he took a deep breath, shifting in the chair again. I noticed he was white-knuckling the armrests too.

What the hell?

Red flags whipped around in my head and I scooted to the edge of the couch. “Pops, what's wrong?”

My heart began thumping faster and faster.

Bernie whimpered, bringing a hand up to his chest. He hissed through teeth and folded over to his knees before collapsing onto the floor, grunting and groaning. I shot up from the couch and flew to where he laid as bone-chilling fear consumed me in a second flat.

Oh my god. OH MY GOD.

Sinking to my knees, I pulled Bernie into my lap. He was sweating, breathing heavily, his face contorted in what appeared to be excruciating pain.

“Jason!” I wailed as loud as I could manage. “JASON!”

I was panicking, I didn't know what to do. Should I risk it and move him to the bed or leave him on the floor?

“JASON!” I shrieked again just as the door flung open, banging into the doorstop on the wall. Jason came barreling into the room with his firearm drawn and when he noticed me on the floor with Bernie, his eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets.

“Jesus Christ!” He muttered in alarm, holstering his gun.

“Call 9-1-1! I think he's having a heart attack!”

Without hesitation, Jason pulled out his phone and dialed for emergency, jogging out the door and into the hall.

“Stay with me, Pops, please.” I begged, wanting nothing more than to hug him. I didn't want to cause him more pain though. Instead, I ran my fingers through his now damp hair with tears flooding my eyes as I watched him struggled to breathe.

Jason and Manny stormed in and began moving the chairs aside to make space for the EMT’s. When the space around us was clear, Jason ran to the door to keep watch in the hall and Manny dropped down beside me, fanning Bernie with a large Manila folder.

Several minutes later, three large men filed into the room with a gurney. Very kindly they asked me to move aside and began prepping Bernie for transport, putting an oxygen mask over his face and lifting him onto the stretcher.

The sight of him being rolled away and the uncertainty of the future set me off into a downward spiral…and that's when I lost it.

Manny and Jason followed behind us in the Tahoe while I rode with Bernie in the back of the ambulance, the sirens blaring as we careened through light traffic. I held his hand the entire way while one of the EMT’s did everything in his power to keep my old man stable.

Never before had being strong been such a difficult thing to do but somehow I managed to keep it together. Maybe it was because I didn't want Bernie to see me crumbling. Seeing me so distraught could negatively affect him and there was no way in hell I could lose him.

When we arrived at the hospital, the EMT asked me to step out and head into the ER. I had every urge to protest against his request but I knew it was a battle I’d never win. He had a job to do and me hovering over him would not be helpful in the slightest.

As I hit the pavement, Jason and Manny came running up the sidewalk from the parking lot and escorted me inside, settling me into a chair beside the windows. I was doing okay until I watched them rush Bernie in and disappear beyond the swinging doors. The sight hit me like a ton of bricks and the dam burst open without warning, core-racking sobs tearing through me one after the other.

An hour later, a tall, lanky gentleman with grayed hair and large frames emerged from the back and introduced himself as Dr. Frishstein. He went on to explain that Bernie had gone into cardiac arrest and was highly recommending surgery.

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