“Shh,” I coo. “Relax. I’m not going anywhere.”
Charlie glances up at me through her lashes, something passing behind her eyes before EMS wheels a gurney into the studio. The manager talks quietly with one of the medical professionals as I stand aside with Roman.
“Anyone going in the ambulance with her?” A paramedic asks.
“I am,” Charlie volunteers as she follows after them.
“We’ll follow behind,” Kairo says.
Roman shakes his head, his gaze hardening. “Come on.”
Roman is fuming by the time we reach the hospital. He’s a live wire, stalking down the sterile white hallways. It didn’t help that a swarm of reporters followed the ambulance, and we had to push through them to get into the building.
He’s got his own speculation of what happened. I tried to be the voice of reason, but Roman wasn’t listening. He’s going to get us caught up in something if he can’t hold his tongue.
As we round the nurse’s station, Charlie steps out of a room. She crosses her arms over her chest. “She’s stable, but she doesn’t need any added stress—”
Roman shoulders past her, ignoring her warning as he barges into the room. We follow behind, and I give Charlie an apologetic smile.
“I’ll be in the waiting room,” the manager says as she closes the door behind her.
Rosalie is sitting up in bed, wearing a hospital-issued blue-and-white gown, as she sips some juice. She has color back in her cheeks, and I release the breath I was holding as relief sweeps over me.
She raises a brow at us as Roman paces at the foot of her bed. “Are you okay?”
He stops, his lips thinning as his head tilts. “You fucking tell me, Rosalie. What was that?”
She scowls. “I’m sorry, I thoughtIwas the one in the hospital bed. Why are you mad at me?”
He runs his hands through his hair messily, and I can see that thin tether close to snapping in him.
Kairo places a hand on Roman’s shoulder, stopping him. “Hey, man. It’s been a long day for everyone. Why don’t you take a breather before you do something crazy?”
Roman shakes him off before pointing an accusing finger at Rosalie. “She’sthe one who made it a long fucking day!” He turns on her, his expression furious. “Did you take something? I didn’t sign up to watch over a fucking addict, Rosalie.”
Her lips part in a small gasp before anger pinches her features. Her arm rears back before she tosses the juice at Roman, causing it to spray part of the bed and coat the front of his shirt. “I have diabetes, you fucking dick head!”
The dots connect in my head—no sugar in the house, Rosalie’s refusal to eat a lot of carbs, the way she was swaying and slurring her lyrics. Her blood sugar was low.
Roman stares at her, his eyes wide as his bottom lip moves, but no sound comes out. He fucked up, and I can see the regret on his features.
“Get out of my room,” She hisses.
“Rosalie—”
She cuts his apology off before it can see the light of day as she sits forward in the bed. “Get out!”
He shakes his head before rubbing a hand over his mouth and stalking out of the room.
“All of you,” Rosalie spits.
Kairo sighs, scrubbing at his chin. “We didn’t know—”
“I don’t care. Get out.”
I pat my friend’s shoulder before we walk out, and I close the door behind me.
“Fucking Christ,” Kairo mutters, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Scared the shit out of me.”
