“Boss, have you spoken with Tobey and Mia?”
Kip didn’t ask for an explanation and conferenced both his assistant executives. “Sit-rep,” he demanded.
“Boss, you need to head to the hospital,” Mia said.
“Who?” Kip’s blood rushed in his ears.
“Harper. She’s in the ER, unconscious, serious blow to her head. Gabriel Matin is dead. The girls are stable and in pediatrics. Zayne has a sprained ankle from jumping out a window,” Tobey reported. “I’m at the scene. PD is working with me.”
“Alpha 1 out.” Kip’s emotional walls rose around him.
* * *
“Where’smy second pair of hands?” Hunt Montgomery called out.
The doors to the OR opened, and in walked Selma Bryant. “Hey, Hunt, I thought we’d have time to talk before this,” she said as the nurse helped her into the gown and sterile gloves. “I heard about Pam. I’m sorry.”
“Always good with timing, baby; I heard about Brutus too.” Hunt’s eyes twinkled using his nickname for Selma’s ex-husband. His name was Marcus, but he thought of him as a conspirator.
Selma laughed. “You can still make me smile.” She bellied up to the table. “Doesn’t look too bad.” She looked at the computer screen where the laparoscopic picture was displayed. “What was she shot with?”
“Tiny hole, maybe a 22. My new director of nursing, Casey Reynolds, picked it up in the ambulance. She’s lucky. I don’t want any surprises. Help me run the bowel. Make sure there are no nicks,” Hunt said.
“You’re in charge.” Selma focused.
Hunt began the examination of the large intestine. The field suddenly filled with blood.
“Your instincts are always right. Pump that blood in. Hemostat,” she called.
“Debakey Clamp,” Hunt followed.
The two surgeons fell into a rhythm.
* * *
Kip jumpedfrom the Tahoe and made his way through the main doors. After hearing from the ER that Harper was in the OR, he flew to the stairwell. He ran up to the surgical floor—three. Using his keycard, he stepped onto the floor, where security immediately surrounded him. Josh flashed both of their identification cards.
Allowed to pass, he made it to the waiting area and its reception desk, where family members could await the fate of patients undergoing operations. “I’m checking on Harper Rousselle.”
“Are you family? I’m sorry, we don’t have a list for her,” the receptionist said.
He felt Josh’s hand on his shoulder. “Boss, Casey.” He pointed.
Casey waved him over to a corner of the waiting room. “She’s still in the OR.”
“What happened? I was told she had a head injury,” he asked.
“I picked it up in the ambulance: tiny hole in the right flank. She was briefly conscious.” Casey wrapped his arms around himself.
“What?” Kip whispered.
“She asked about the babies. After I told her they were safe, she said, ‘Channy, Kip.’” He looked Kip in the eye. “And love.”
Kip gasped and locked his knees. He shoved his hands into his pockets to stop the shakes. “Thank you.”
Then his stoic persona returned. “Call me the minute you hear. I’ll be upstairs. I want to see the building repairs. Josh, change the location of the meeting to here.” He walked toward the elevator.
* * *
