“Grandma!” Franz jumped out of my lap and tried to run after the two medics taking my mom out to the ambulance.
“Anya …” My mom’s weak voice echoed.
“Your grandma will be fine, Franz. They just need to have a doctor check on her. You can see her later.” Victor picked up Franz just before he made it out the door.
“Evie, let’s go, baby.” Ronin took Anya from me. “I’ll take Anya in the ambulance with your mom. You take your dad and follow us in the Jeep.” He held out his other hand to me.
I didn’t take it. I didn’t need his help to stand up. He was the one who needed help.
“Ronin, you can’t—”
“I’m fine.” He kissed the side of Anya’s head.
He wasn’t fine. Ronin’s usually warm beige skin was whiter than mine. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his cheeks were sunken beneath his cheek bones more than usual because he hadn’t eaten much in days.
“We’ll stay with Franz. Call if you need anything.” Ling handed me my coat, phone, and purse as I stood.
Ronin wrapped a blanket from the sofa around himself and Anya before heading out to the ambulance.
“Grandma and Grandpa are going to put you to bed, Franz.” I hugged him. “We’re going to let the doctors fix Grandma and Anya. I love you so much. We’ll be back soon.”
I saw the unease in his eyes. Ronin’s parents visited several times a year, but Franz wasn’t as comfortable with them as he was with my parents whom he saw almost every week. But man, oh man … did I ever love how my little boy put on his best brave face for me when I absolutely needed it more than anything else.
“Okay, Mommy. Goodnight.”
Sheesh …
That brought tears to my eyes more than had he tried to argue with me or beg me to stay.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Ronin
They admitted Madeline for the night, put three stitches in Anya’s head, and gave me an IV because I had low blood pressure and appeared to be dehydrated. I refused to be admitted for the night too, much to Evelyn’s sour-faced displeasure.
“I’m going to check in with my parents,” I whispered, leaving Evelyn, her dad, and Anya in Madeline’s room as she started to drift off to sleep.
Instead of calling my parents, I wheeled my portable IV to Lila’s room. Graham had to go back to Denver earlier that day, leaving Lila’s personal assistant to stay with her. I couldn’t imagine leaving my wife just a few days after a major accident, but I wasn’t the governor of Colorado. However, she was being transferred to a Denver hospital the following day. They wouldn’t attempt the transfer until they felt she was stable.
Fiona glanced up from her computer when I opened the glass door to Lila’s room. On a smile, she pushed her red-framed glasses up her nose before curling her dark blond hair behind her ears. “Hi,” she whispered, which made Lila turn her head and open her eyes.
“Can we have a few minutes?” I asked Fiona.
“Sure. I might go grab a bite to eat if you’ll be here for a bit.”
“Sure.” I wheeled my IV into the room and eased into the seat Fiona had occupied.
“You look like shit.” Lila attempted to grin with half of her face bandaged. “I thought you were the one who rescued me. Who rescued you? And I thought you went home this morning.”
I grunted, trying to at least match her half-ass smile. “Madeline had a seizure after dinner.”
“Oh my god! Is she okay?”
I flinched as Lila tried to sit up. She flinched too because it hurt to move.
“Relax. It’s fine. An expected complication of her condition. Unfortunately, she was rocking Anya to sleep when it happened. Anya fell from her lap and cut her head. But everyone is fine.”
“Oh baby Anya …” She closed her eyes for a brief moment. “You, Ronin … earlier Evelyn told me your heart stopped. Please tell me it wasn’t from the stress of trying to save me.”
“No.”
Truth.
It wasn’t the trying part. It was because I succeeded, and more specifically, because she went into cardiac arrest a second time at the hospital. And fuck my life because at the exact moment her heart stopped, so did mine. It was complicated, and yet a rather simple explanation that I’d come to expect—and accept.
As a child, I envied the superheroes in all the books I stashed under my bed. Even when I decided to go through the long and rigorous training to become a paramedic, the young boy in me couldn’t wait to be the person—the superhero—who saved lives.
“I hope you’re feeling better than me,” she murmured. “I’m so scared of getting addicted to pain medications. I’ve been making them give me the bare minimum and only toward the end of the day … just to sleep.”