“Ms. Corrigan,” he says gently. “Katie’s been in an accident with a vehicle. She’s in New York Community Hospital receiving emergency treatment. Are you able to get here?”
“Um,” I stammer, the haze of wine and headache burning away. “I don’t have a passport.”
“Is there anyone who can travel here immediately?” he prompts.
“Yes,” I say, “I know someone.”
“Good, please get them here quick. She needs support. It’s touch and go.”
The line goes dead.
Did that actually happen?
I sit frozen, clutching my phone, the enormity of my friend’s condition pressing on my chest. Then, with shaking hands, I dial the only person I know who would travel to the other side of the world for her…
Her ex, Lance.
Chapter thirty
Amy
Ben repeats his address to Ivan as he speaks to him on my cell. “He’s on his way,” he says as he hands me back the phone. “Are you okay?”
After speaking to Lance and telling him to get his ass to New York, I’d broken down completely. I’m terrified of losing my friend. If Katie dies, I don’t know how I’ll cope with yet another loss.
Ivan chose this exact moment to call me, and Ben answered my phone as I sobbed into my hands. The two men had made brief introductions before Ben filled Ivan in on the chaos unfolding in my life. It ended with him providing his address.
“I’m scared. I can’t lose her too,” I whisper through tears. Every so often, desolation overwhelms, and I gasp for air. My chest heaves, my lungs refuse to cooperate.
Ben sits beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. His warmth helps a little. I want him to tell me it will be all right,but I know he won’t promise me that. He’s seen too much loss—at the hospital and in his own life.
Thirty minutes later, the doorbell buzzes, and Ben rises to answer it. He disappears into the hallway. Moments later, he returns with Ivan at his shoulder.
I look up at the two men, and I’m momentarily taken aback by their resemblance. Ivan is bigger, more toned, but both have the same dark hair and shrewd blue eyes. Both strong men in their own way. Ben quiet, Ivan commanding.
“Amy,” Ivan says as he strides toward me. He drops to his knees and wipes my tears away with his thumb before gathering me in his arms. The room around melts away. Everything calms. His scent, so new but familiar, wraps around anchoring me. The steadiness of his breath against my temple, a lullaby.
“It will be all right,” he whispers into my hair. “I’m here. Do you want to go to New York? I’ll come with you.”
I focus on him, my throat raw. “Say the word and I’ll book the tickets,” he adds.
I shake my head. “I don’t have a passport,” I mumble. His eyebrows draw together in confusion. “I searched for it this morning for our trip, and it’s expired. Lance—he’s Katie’s ex—he has a flight booked today. He’ll be with her tonight.”
“We’ll get you a new passport,” he says gently. “You’ll need one for Thailand anyway.” Every word level and steady, like a man used to problem-solving, not facing heartbreak. “Then you can decide if you want to go and see your friend. At least then, you can.”
He takes my hands in his, resting them on my knees. “Amy, it’s going to be all right.”
I want to believe him. I really do. But my past says otherwise; love and hope is not always enough to fix things.
Ben clears his throat. I had forgotten he was even here. “Do either of you want a drink? I’ll put the kettle on,” he says, and leaves before either of us can answer him.
The morning light seeps into the room, painting everything pale gold. The night’s grief a steady weight, heavy and stale. We sit sipping our cups of tea, grasping for any warmth we can.
I’ve called the hospital for updates on Katie’s condition. At first, they wouldn’t give me any information, but after my contact at the police station spoke with them, they’re grudgingly providing updates. The last I heard, she was out of surgery and stable in recovery.
Those two words—stable and recovery—are the only ones keeping me sane. She’s still breathing.
“Do you want me to take you home?” Ivan asks, breaking the silence.
