“You took all that joy away from me by doing it yourself. Maybe I wanted to look with you.” The words seemed harder to get out for some reason; his mouth moved fine, but it was like a bad foreign film where the voice didn’t match the movements of the mouth. He didn’t feel so good. “I gotta sit down.” His legs couldn’t seem to hold him any longer, and he flopped down onto the sofa.
“Sam, what’s wrong?” Zach stood over him. At least Sam thought he did; the room spun, and Zach’s worried face peered down at him. “What’s the matter, does something hurt?” Zach knelt at his side and touched his face. “I’m going to call an ambulance.”
He wanted to say no, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t say anything at all.
Chapter Nine
‡
The ambulance couldn’tcome fast enough for Zach. The 911 operator assured him they’d be there within five minutes, but with the closest hospital to them now closed, Zach couldn’t be certain. He raced back and forth from the window to Sam, who whispered he was okay, but Zach knew better.
It was his father all over again. Sam was going to die, and Zach would be left all alone.
The sirens blared from the outside, and Zach bent to kiss Sam’s forehead. “The ambulance is here. I’m sorry; this is all my fault. I love you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do this.”
“I love you too, and you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s my fault not yours.” Sam leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
Zach raced back to the front and flung the door open. “In here.” He waved to the EMTs, who followed him into the apartment. “We were talking, and all of a sudden he said he didn’t feel good, and he started to slur his words.”
“What’s his name?”
“Sam.”
“Does he have any medical conditions we should be aware of? Is he taking any medications?”
“No, nothing. He’s never had anything like this happen before.”
The paramedic looked over at Sam, then back to Zach. “And your name and relation to Sam?”
“I’m Zach. Sam and I are getting married in a week.”
The EMT set his gear down and walked over to Sam while Zach hung back.
“Sam, my man. What’s going on? Tell me how you feel.”
Instantly, Zach warmed to the big man, who took out a blood-pressure cuff and wrapped it around Sam’s arm. Sam opened his eyes and gave a weak, pained smile. “Like shit.”
“Trying to get out of your wedding?” He squeezed the little rubber bubble to pump air to the cuff.
“Not on your life.”
“Do you have pain now? Where is it?”
“Not any longer. It’s like a squeezing pain in my chest. Hurt more than ever before.”
Listening to this, Zach felt thoroughly confused. More than ever before? Did Sam mean he’d been having pain and never told anyone?
“Zach said you’re in pretty good health, though—no medical issues or medications?” The EMT shone a light in Sam’s eyes.
With an even grimmer expression, Sam shot him a glance, then looked back up at the paramedic. “Um, no, I do. The bottle is on the kitchen counter.”
A chill swept through Zach, but Sam kept his eyes trained on the medic.
Confused for a moment, the medic shrugged and gestured to his partner who was standing near Zach, writing notes in his book. “Yo, Tony. Go get the pills on the counter and bring ’em to me.”
Tony flipped closed his black notebook, and for the first time Zach noticed a pill bottle sitting in full view on the countertop, right where he’d left the papers this morning that he’d rushed back to get. What the hell?
Tony brought the pill bottle over to the EMT, and sheer panic seized Zach’s heart, sending it pounding.
