Page 51 of Willow

“It is and I’m so sorry, love. Go pack your bags. I’ll stay with our girl.” I don’t even remember thanking her or kissing my baby girl before I left. I just called Harry and told him I’d be there within the hour. Then I threw some things in a bag. Funny how my first thought is Willow’s mom. I’ve no doubt they contacted her so she wouldn’t find out about it on the news. Looking through my contacts real quick, I find her number and dial.

“Caleb. Oh thank god! I’ve been trying to book a flight since Lucas called and the earliest one is in the morning. I need to get to—”

“I’ll swing by and pick you up in twenty minutes. We’ll take the jet and be there in a few hours. What’s her diagnosis?”

“Lucas said something about blunt force trauma, broken ribs, and broken arm. After that I didn’t hear a word he said.” Fuck! I’m coming, love. I’m coming.

“I’m leaving now, Mrs. Adams. We’ll get the answers once we get there.” And I pray it’s not as critical as the news states.

“Thank you, Caleb. Thank you.” I quickly hang up because the sooner we leave, the sooner we can be there.” I hate that I left my daughter without an explanation, but I know she’s in good hands with her Baba.

I’m so fucking angry that no one called me and then I chastise myself for even thinking like that. I’d be the last one they would think about while their girl is fighting for her life.

Pulling into her drive, Mrs. Adams races out the door. Just as desperately as I am to get to Willow. I step out of the car so I can grab her bags and throw them in the trunk. She’s crying when I slide back in.

“She’s a fighter, Mrs. Adams. If anyone can pull through whatever is thrown at her, it’s Willow.” She’s proved it time and time again.

We’re silent on the drive to the airport. There’s not much to say since I don’t know her very well. And the things I do know, I don’t like very much. Silencing your daughter because you want to protect her is one thing. Doing it to cover up the fact that it was happening under your nose is another. Luckily, it’s a short drive.

I park my car inside the hangar and when we get to my private jet, Harry is there, waiting for us. “Harry, this is Mrs. Adams, Willow’s mother. Harry’s my pilot and a dear friend.”

“Wish we were meeting under different circumstances, Mrs. Adams. Ready for flight anytime you are, Caleb.”

That time would be now. “After you, Mrs. Adams.”

“Please, call me Joyce. It looks like you’ll be around for some time. Let’s be cordial.” Ouch, that stung like a bitch. You might think after I thought to call her she’d be a bit friendlier, but I guess not. Duly noted.

We’re in the air within fifteen minutes and I don’t say a word the whole flight. I’m too busy browsing through the posts on social media. Grieving for Ezra who lost his life at such a young age and well wishes for Willow to make a full recovery. Nothing could have prepared me for the pictures of the wreckage. Nothing. Now I’m even more desperate to get to her as soon as possible. Nothing is going to stand in my way.

After a smooth landing, I rent a car and we’re on our way to the hospital in a matter of hours. We’ll worry about hotel arrangements once we know what’s going on. And I keep Harry on standby because with Cadence I never know what could happen. I want to be prepared at all times.

The smell of antiseptic and cleaning products hits me in the face the second I walk inside the hospital. Bringing back all kinds of memories that I’d rather forget. Pushing all that aside, I walk up to the registration desk with Joyce close by my side. “We’re here for Willow Adams. Could you tell us what room she’s in?”

“Sir, are you her father?” Fuck me, she didn’t just go there.

Joyce interrupts. “I’m her mother. Could you tell me how my daughter’s doing?” I’m not a masochist and I do feel sorry for her. It’s her only child like Cadence is mine.

“Let me check. Um, the chart says she’s still in surgery. Dr. Chandler is attending. If you take this elevator to the third floor, take a right and then your second left, her friends will be there to fill you in on anything that’s new.”

I’m pounding on the elevator button before the receptionist even finishes her sentence. I need to see Willow, like yesterday. I’m here, love.

32

WILLOW

Screeching tires. Crunching metal.

Impact. Spinning. Rolling. Pain…

Sounds. Beeping.

Bright lights. Drifting. Floating. Pain.

Darkness. Void.

Voices. Screaming. Pain.

Silence…

---