Page 125 of Winning Brynn

The hallway leading to my apartment is eerily silent, the lights in the wall sconces flickering as a particularly strong gust of wind shudders against the building. It should be my first sign that something is wrong, but I’m too lost in my thoughts to see it for what it is.

It isn’t until I get to my door and find it already open that my heart rate begins to spike.

“Brynn?”

There’s no answer.

I shove through the doorway, dropping my gym bag on the floor, and running through to the living area. My stomach dives, my lungs seizing as I take in the scene around me.

Isabella is sobbing uncontrollably on the sofa in the living room, though I pay her no mind at all. Brynn sits wide-eyed and shell-shocked on the tile floor of the kitchen, her skin ashen, as Gordon does his best to calm her down by rubbing himself up against her and nudging her hand with his head. She doesn’t seem to notice, though, because her gaze is locked on the two EMTs attaching wires onto my daughter’s chest.

“What’s happened?” I bellow. One of the EMTs does something to Salem’s finger that makes her wail in pain, and I launch across the room. “Hey, stop that! You’re hurting her.”

Small hands wrap around my arms and pull me backward. I spin around, pinning Brynn with an accusatory glare. “What are you doing? They’re hurting her.”

Her eyes are so soft as she looks at me, so gentle and full of understanding. She reaches up to touch my neck, running her thumb over my pulse point. “They’re helping her, Leo.”

Helping her with what?

All I can see is my daughter’s tiny little body with those wires sticking out of her, the weird contraption on her finger, and the tears rolling down her cheeks. All I can hear is the sound of her cries and the incessant beeping of some machine. All I can taste is the acrid burn of panic on my tongue.

And still, no one is telling me what the fuck is going on.

“With what?” I grind out.

Brynn’s face collapses. “Salem choked on a grape. I managed to dislodge it, but by then, she was already turning blue.” She sees the stricken expression on my face, because she hastily says, “She’s fine now. The EMTs are just checking her over. But she’s okay, Leo. I promise. She’s okay.”

“Can I hold her?”

She shakes her head. “Not right now, but they’ll tell you when you can, okay?”

My vision is dappled with red and black spots, but I can’t look away from my daughter. I don’t even blink, too scared that she’ll disappear the very moment I can no longer see her.

I watch as the female EMT with striking red hair gently rocks Salem back and forth, whispering words of reassurance as her partner, a man in his late forties with a bald head and a full beard, notates readings from the heart rate monitor.

“It’s looking good,” he says. “I think it’s worth a trip down to the hospital, just to monitor her for a little while, but I’m not worried.”

Relief pours over me like warm water, soothing away the panic until all that’s left is anger.

I turn back to Brynn. “Who the fuck gave Salem whole grapes?”

She grimaces, her mind turning over as she thinks about what to say. But I catch the flick of her gaze toward Issy, who is watching us with red eyes and mascara-streaked cheeks.

My fists clench painfully at my sides. Of fucking course it was her.

“It wasn’t her fault,” Brynn says quickly, quietly too, as if she’s staring down the face of a predator and is trying not to provoke it.

Issy stands from the sofa, shuffling herself across the room to stand behind Brynn. “Yes, it was. You don’t need to protect me.”

My thunderous eyes lock on the woman who birthed my daughter, staring her down with such hateful intensity that she flinches from the force of it. “You nearly killed her.”

She winces. “I know. I’m sorry. I—”

“No,” Brynn interrupts her. “It was my fault. I didn’t tell her to slice the grapes first.”

“You shouldn’t have had to!” I snap. “It’s common fucking sense.”

Brynn’s eyes prickle with tears. She reaches for my face but lets her hands fall away before she touches me. Her breath trembles as she sucks in a breath, and her shoulders roll inward in defeat. “I left them alone,” she whispers.

---