Page 4 of He Saved Me

I park my ’67 Impala in the hospital’s visitor parking lot. Shutting off the ignition, I rest my head against the headrest, wondering how the fuck I am going to break the news to my Reina.

Fuck.

I can’t think straight.

Breathing out a heavy sigh, I snatch the keys from the ignition, tossing them and catching them in one hand, and then I slide out of my seat. I tuck my keys in my pocket and pull out a new pack of cigarettes.

Tapping the end of the pack and removing the plastic, I pull out a cigarette and light the fucker up.

“I’m so sorry, Reina,” I whisper to the stars with my eyes shut, holding back the emotions that are ready to spill over.

After a few drags, I tap the ash from the butt taking another hit and blowing the smoke in the other direction.

My phone dings for the twentieth time. Sighing, I put out my cigarette, tossing it in the bin.

Gio: where u at, bro? Our girl’s awake.

Me: On my way up.

Walking through the sliding doors, I approach the desk. “Sadie Ramirez,” I say to the nurse.

The nurse types erratically on the keyboard.

“Ok, here we go. Sadie…she’s been moved to the third floor. Just walk down this hall,” she points to her right—“until you run into the elevator.” She smiles.

“Thanks.”

Following her instructions, I make it to the third floor. I pull my phone out ready to text Gio, when I hear his voice. I look up from my phone to see them approaching.

“It’s about fucking time bro,” Gio says with Donnie and Ash trailing behind.

Gio gives me a bro hug. When he pulls back, his eyebrow furrows, “Where you been?”

My eyes dart from Gio to Donnie, Ash, and back to Gio. I close my eyes to find the right words, but nothing comes to mind.

“What’s going on?” My eyes snap open when I hear Donovan’s deep voice. He and Ash are still wearing their suits.

They look like shit.

Donnie more than Ash, with his hair sticking up all over the place like he was trying to yank it out of his scalp. With his disheveled suit and red and swollen eyes, and his paler than usual skin, he looks like he hasn’t slept in days.

I rub my hands through my hair and down my face. I look around the hall, noticing there is a better place for this conversation. Then I see a nurse walking in our direction.

“Excuse me.” I gently reach out to grab her wrist, startling her.

“Sorry.” I release my hold and take a step back. “Is there a waiting room?”

She opens her mouth to respond but pauses when her pager goes off. “Um…” she says while staring at her beeper. “Yeah, if you go down this hall—" she puts the pager away and gestures with her clipboard—“the waiting room will be on your right-hand side.”

I nod, thanking her, and brush past her.

The guys follow me down the hall without saying a word.

Good. The room is empty.

I pace, trying to control the anxiety running through my veins.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mutter, gripping the back of my neck.

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