“It’s Cole.”
My voice cracks. Riley takes it as a question and nods.
“Yeah, that’s what EMS said. His partner should be here any minute.”
Charlotte.
Oh, God. That’s why she called me so many times.
I don’t say anything. I can’t. Just saying his name has my throat closing and that red haze crowding the edges of my vision. Fuck, I need to get to him. Now. I try and push to my feet, but Riley stops me, holding me immobile with a biting grip on my knees. A growl rises in my chest but I manage to keep it from surfacing, practically choking on it.
Riley’s frown deepens. “You know him from somewhere?”
I swallow past the horrid lump in my throat and nod once, sudden, angry tears blurring my vision. “Let me go.”
“Absolutely not, Megs.” Riley’s an immovable mass in front of me. Loren edges closer, a hand on his stun gun. “You’ll hateme in another couple hours if I let you ruin your career right now.”
Aggression floods my veins, so overwhelming my entire body shakes with it. I can’t hold back the growl this time. Riley’s throat ripples with a swallow, but he doesn’t loosen his hold on me. I push against him anyway, needing to get away, needing to get to Cole so I can fix him, help him,bond him.
All at once, my vision blurs out again, the red haze worse than before. An inhuman snarl rips up my throat as I push to my feet, forcing my way out of my friend’s hold. Loren’s right there, though, silently demanding me to stay put. Riley’s eyes are wide, like that terrified nurse in the trauma bay.
“You don’t get it,” I snarl at him.
He nods, grabbing my wrist. “I know.” His voice is so gentle now, coaxing me like I’m a wild animal. Fuck, I just might be one right now. “I don’t understand, so tell me. Tell me why this one is affecting you like this when the one two weeks ago—with way more horrible neglect evident—didn’t bring out this kind of response.”
“It’s him,” I croak.
“Him who?”
“Him,” I say with more emphasis. “He’s… he’sours.” My voice breaks on the word, and then I’m holding back large, racking sobs.
Realization dawns on him, horror replacing the worry of a moment before.
“Oh, God,” he mutters. “And you didn’t know?”
I shake my head. No, we didn’t know. Fuck, I’d have gone with him to whatever appointments he was hiding from us. I’d have helped organize his medications, kept up with his bloodwork. I’d have doneanythingto help him from getting to this point. All at once, the fight drains out of me, and I collapsein a heap onto the chair. Riley follows me down, keeping me from hurting myself.
He looks over my shoulder as the doors to the waiting room open. I follow his gaze. A man with salt-and-pepper hair and beard strides through the department, a grim set to his mouth and worry lines creasing his forehead.
There’s a relieved sound from near the trauma bay.
“Thank goodness,” Dr. Peterson breathes. Then, louder, she says, “This one’s an absolute mess.”
The new man who, logically, must be the specialist they called in from the Gallagher Clinic, walks by us, his strides eating more ground than mine when I run.
“Fallon, right?”
“Yep.” Dr. Peterson’s voice is grim. The new doctor mutters a curse, and Dr. Peterson raises an eyebrow. “He one of yours?”
“Not yet. Was supposed to see him tomorrow. He’s been working with a colleague out in Seattle for the last two years.”
Two. Years.
Cole’s had OBS for twofuckingyears.
My strangled, heart-wrenching sob breaks the quiet of the room, and the new doctor glances back at me with a frown.
“Let’s get him upstairs, and I’ll work out a game plan,” he says as he turns back toward the trauma bay.
