Page 44 of What About Us
“Can you put her on the phone?” Anxiety immediately coils low in my gut, and every step of my boots sliding on the loose soil feels like walking through sludge.
Hank lifts his chin at me, a question in his face.
“Yes, just a minute,” the woman named Shelly says, and I hear a bit of muffled shuffling.
“It’s Finn,” I tell Hank. “Something’s wrong.”
His brow furrows at my words and he nods once. “Go,” he says.
“Can one of you get Paige?” I don’t wait for an answer as I turn and make a beeline for the driveway.
Just then, I hear Finn’s voice, quiet and weak in my ear. “Huddy?”
Oh, thank God, she’s coherent. At least for now. Still, the second I hear her voice, I break into a jog toward my truck, not stopping when I hear Mom and Wren call out from where they’re relaxing on the porch of my parents’ ranch house.
“Are you ok?” Shifting the phone to the other ear, I pull open the door and climb into the stifling heat of the truck.
She moans. “I need you.”
Hearing those words so weak and mumbled so desperately kicks up my heart rate with barely contained panic. It’s only five minutes from the ranch to the B&B, but the thought of that five minutes makes my stomach turn.
“I’m on my way, baby, but can you tell me what’s happening? Are you hurt? Is it your blood sugar?”
“I don’t know. I think it’s high. I can’t… I don’t,” she stammers.
I shove the keys into the ignition, crank the engine, and tear out of the gravel driveway in reverse, swinging out on to the dirt road. With a glance in the rearview mirror, I ask, “Did you call an ambulance?”
“No. No ambulance.” She sounds weak, tired and…scared.
Fuck.Why would she not want an ambulance? That should have been her first call. This woman, Shelly, what was she thinking? What are either of them thinking?
“Have them call. Shelly, the woman I was talking to; have her call. I don’t want to hang up with you.” I try to keep my voice even, but it’s almost impossible when I don’t know what the fuck is happening with her.
Even as I say it, I know it will be at least forty-five minutes before an ambulance will make it clear the fuck out here to Timber Forge and another forty-five to a hospital. And that’s on a good day with no traffic.I can be there in five, but since I can’t get much out of her, I don’t know how to help. I’m also mentally kicking myself in the ass because I knew something was going on with her, and I ignored red flag after red flag.
“No, I just need you,” she repeats. “Please hurry.”
Hearing her this way makes my stomach drop, and her refusal of emergency services has me clenching my jaw and gripping the steering wheel tight. She’s so damn stubborn. I mentally force myself to think. If this was Paige, what would I do? I run through a list in my head of things I would check. I thought I’d be prepared for Paige in the event of a medical problem, but I never thought it would be for Finn.
“I’m on my way. Is your pump working?”
“Are you here yet?” she asks, instead of answering me. Confusion isn’t good.
“Not yet. But I’m on my way.” I slam my foot on the accelerator and fly down the road leading away from the ranch. “Have you eaten? Could it be too low, like the other night?”
“I don’t think so.”
She doesn’t think she’s eaten, or she doesn’t think it’s low? She’s not making any sense.
“Can you look at your app? Your pump? Something? Can you give me a number?” I hear a sigh and then a thud like she’s dropped her phone. “Jameson?”
“Hudson, it’s Shelly. She’s vomiting.”
“Can you look on her phone for me? She’s diabetic. The app for her CGM, it’s black and it has an ‘NS’ in a black box for the logo,” I tell her.
God, the wait is excruciating.
“I don’t see it,” she says, her voice a little wobbly. There’s a pause and I hope to Christ she’s looking more.
