“Honey, I’m home!” I yelled as I let myself in the door.
I tossed my keys into the thick glass bowl on the foyer table, dropped my purse beside it and kicked off my high heels.
Padding across the living room towards the kitchen with the grocery bag I called out, “Brenda?”
Where the heck was she?
It wasn’t until I stepped into the kitchen that I found her. Her twisted body was in a heap on the tiled floor. The groceries slipped from my hands. The sound of broken glass came from within the brown paper as the entire bag slammed next to my feet.
“Oh my God, Brenda!” I screamed.
I dropped to my knees next to her and shook her shoulders but her eyes stayed shut.
“Brenda, honey, wake up,” I cried.
When I didn’t get a response, I leaned close to her mouth to check if she was breathing. Warm air softly brushed my cheek, spurring me into action. Pushing up to my feet, I ran to the foyer table, grabbed my cell phone from my purse and dialed 911 as I ran back to where Brenda was.
By that time, I was frantic. The emergency dispatcher kindly but firmly reminded me twice to slow down before she assured me that an ambulance had been dispatched and was on the way.
As I waited with Brenda’s cold hand clutched in mine, I noticed a bright pink box of what looked like chocolates upside-down on the floor a couple of feet from where she lay.
“Honey, hang on. Help is coming,” I whispered as I crawled towards the box. Flipping the box over, a few truffles rolled out. A single white rose bud was tied to the lid. It looked exactly like the roses Kean had sent me, the ones that were sitting on my desk at work.
I didn’t keep chocolate in the apartment. It was far too tempting. Someone had sent that box.
My breath hitched in a sob as I crawled back to my best friend’s lifeless body. “Oh, Brenda, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Please be okay,” I cried and grabbed her hand again. Tears streaming down my face, I waited for the ambulance.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Kean
“Dr. Bennett, there is a gentleman here to see you.”
I turned from the glass window of a room in the juvenile burn unit where I had been watching Juan, an eight-year-old boy, sleeping in his hospital bed.
His family had immigrated from Mexico and lived in an overcrowded house. His mother had been cooking a pot of chicken caldo on the stove when Juan, who had been chasing his cousins, knocked into her. The pot spilt over. Juan’s mother and his cousins where able to move away without hardly any injuries but Juan was scalded with the boiling water in several places.
The family didn’t have health insurance and his parents could not afford the necessary surgeries to save him, so I stepped in. No child – no person – should have to endure the amount of physical pain Juan was in. And he was in for a lengthy healing process. For me, being able to do something for his physical health was only a small part of it. It wasn’t the young boy’s fault that the world was such a cruel place to grow up in.
I smiled at the nurse who delivered the message as I passed her on my way to the hallway just beyond the double doors of the ICU. Thad was leaning up against a wall waiting for me.
“I thought you dropped my wallet off at the nurse’s station?” I asked.
In my haste, I had forgotten my wallet at the office when I left for the hospital earlier this afternoon. I had called Thad to ask if he could drop it off. No one wanted to be caught without a license.
“Yeah, I did but as I was leaving I saw Ciaran in the emergency room waiting area.”
My chest immediately tightened. “Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. Something happened to one of her friends and she rode with her in the ambulance.”
I spun around to the group of nurses chatting in front of the burn unit doors and recognized one of them.
“Alicia,” I called.
The younger woman wearing scrubs covered in rainbow dinosaurs turned towards me. “Yes, Dr. Bennett.”
“I’ve had a personal emergency come up. Will you let Dr. Phillips know I had to leave and ask him to finish checking in on my patients, please? I already followed up with room 901 and updated the chart.”
“Yes, Dr. Bennett. I’ll page him right away.”
My chest burning, I pushed past Thad as I rushed towards the elevator. I had to get to Ciaran. Thad had said she was fine but I had to see her with my own eyes to make sure.
“Which friend?” I asked, slamming the button down for the first floor.
“I believe she said her name was Brenda,” Thad stated calmly.
I swear to God, calm was his middle name. It definitely wasn’t mine at the moment. Especially when it came to the woman who had shoved her way into my life. She had some sort of grip on my soul.
I spotted Ciaran as soon as we stepped off the elevator, sitting in one of the plastic chairs. She was tracing a line along the floor with the tip of her shoe. She looked so small. Even from a distance, I could see her eyes were puffy. She had streaks of mascara running down her splotchy cheeks. Without moving a single step, my body leaned in her direction as I took in every detail that I possibly could. She appeared to be fine, upset but fine.
Suddenly, a flash of blonde blocked her from my line of sight. I watched as Stuart Whitman pulled her from the chair, wrapped his arms around her and proceeded to rock her back and forth. I don’t remember my feet moving; however, within seconds, I reached where they were swaying. He was whispering to her but I couldn’t make out a word he was saying, which only angered me more.
“Get your fucking hands off her,” I demanded.
My own hands fisted at my side. I wanted to rip Whitman’s arms from his body so that he was never capable of touching her again.
Whitman had the nerve to look at me and smirk.
I took a step closer. “Remove your fucking hands or I will remove them for you.”
Ciaran snapped into action. She pushed Stuart away at the same time I reached for her. Letting out a loud cry, she flung herself into my arms. “Kean.”
“Baby, what happened?” I asked, pulling her tighter against my chest.
Heavy sobs tore through her slight frame making it impossible for her to speak. Thad and I made eye contact over her head. I needed to get her out of the waiting room. With one arm I reached under her knees and swept her up.
Next to us, Thad was giving Whitman a menacing look. Satisfied that he would deal with the situation, I began to walk in the direction of the emergency room double doors when Whitman blocked us.
He reached for Ciaran’s arm. “Ciaran? What the hell is going on?”
Thad immediately intercepted the move, positioning his massive body between Whitman and where I was carrying a bawling Ciaran.
“Are you fucking him?” Stuart shouted around Thad, drawing the attention of several people in the waiting room.
Ciaran didn’t answer but instead cried harder as she tucked her head under my chin and tightened her grip around my neck. With one last warning look at Whitman, I gave both men my back and carried Ciaran away.
I could hear Thad talking to Whitman behind us. “You need to leave.”
Pushing through the doors, I quickly found an empty room and set Ciaran down on the hospital bed.
“It’s going to be all right,” I whispered, pressing my lips against her temple while keeping my arms around her.
She shook with each sob.
A minute later, Thad stepped through the door carrying a bottle of water. Unscrewing the top, he handed it to a now hiccupping Ciaran.
“Here, drink. You’ll feel better with some fluids,” he told her.
As she drank some of the water, I grabbed a box of tissues off the counter and handed her one. She put the water bottle down and wiped her nose.