33. ARAN

CHAPTER 33

ARAN

O ne moment—and for the first time in my life—I'm optimistic about starting a conversation. The next, I see Strawberry's eyes roll closed and she plummets to the floor.

The world stops as her head hits the bookshelf at a weird angle. The thud's echo reaches me halfway across the expanse.

And then she hits the floor.

I don't even think. I take off at full speed and leap over a table on the way. I grow tunnel vision, and there, all I see is her unmoving form.

Es Luz, otra vez, es Luz otra vez.

That little voice incessantly repeats that even as I kneel before her. Only when I stop do I realize several things. I'm panting like a stinking horse. She's really pale and unresponsive. There's blood trickling slowly onto the carpet.

"Shit, shit, shit. Maddie, wake up."

I know I can't move her. My hands hover in the air, frozen. But I can't let her keep bleeding. As I'm tearing off my sweatshirt, I feel someone behind me.

"What's happening?"

I fold up the fabric quickly, and with shaky hands, I press it against the back of her head. My eyes run over her frame, stopping at her chest. I see it rise and fall, and some of the adrenaline rushes out of me. Some. I should call 911, but how long would they take to get here? Should I take her to the hospital instead?

Finally, I turn and find the guy she was tutoring. His eyes are wide as boiled eggs looking at the scene.

"Get our stuff and follow me," I command.

"Um—"

"Now, man! Can't you see she's bleeding?"

"Er, okay."

I'm praying harder than I have since Luz's accident while I carefully maneuver Maddie in my arms. Her head lolls over my shoulder, and the sweatshirt falls to the floor. Hope returns to my body when I see the bloodstains are small.

"Stay with me," I whisper to her, rushing through the library with her pupil on our tail.

In record time, I bundle her into the passenger seat of my SUV and strap her in. The dude dumps all our junk in the back seat, and when we're done, I race to the driver's seat. This time my hands are steady as I turn on the car and fasten my seat belt.

A little moan echoes in the quiet, and I still. But she doesn't open her eyes yet.

By some miracle, I catch all the green lights on the way to the hospital. It's the second time in as many months that I have to go to that damn place, and the closer I get to it, the more I sweat. The more my muscles spasm. The more my chest feels like there's an elephant sitting on it. This is why I've never wanted to get involved with anyone. Somehow, I always end up coming here with the women I love. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it so damn much that I'm trying not to barf all over the dashboard.

I park sideways between two spots. Everyone will just have to deal with it. Even though my breathing's getting shorter and shorter and my vision blurs, I pick Maddie up again and settle her head safely against my shoulder.

"You're going to be fine, little Strawberry. We're going to be good."

I put one foot forward, and then the other. I can't remember whether I shut my car door, but I don't turn back until I'm in the ER. And I don't stop until someone brings a gurney for her and wheels her away. I'm aware of someone asking me shit, but all I can do is stand there, shaking like a leaf. My clothes stick to my skin while buckets of cold sweat keep pouring out. All I can see is the white of the walls. I can taste the hospital smell, that stench of chemicals and detergent and faint traces of blood.

I shut my eyes and force myself to breathe, even though I really don't want to inhale more of that scent. I ball my hands tight, and the pain of my fingers digging into my palms grounds me a bit.

This isn't like what happened to Luz. I didn't lose anyone that night. I'm not going to lose anyone today. It's going to be fine. I'll get my chance to tell Maddie how I really feel.

"—sit down?"

Those two words penetrate through my mind, and I blink hard. An older nurse gently leads me to a chair in the waiting area. I feel like I'm nine years old again, except this time, it doesn't take two people and a syringe to calm me the hell down. I comply, and the fight drains out of me when I park my ass on a chair. For a moment, I feel like I'm going to pass out too.

"That's a good boy," the woman says with a kind but firm voice. "Now, can you tell me exactly what happened? It will help us treat your friend."

I open my mouth, and nothing comes out. After shaking my head hard enough to hurt, I tell her what I saw and what I did. She asks for her information, but all I can give is her name, age, and weight because she told me that once.

"Do you know her emergency contact? Her insurance provider?"

"I—No." I rub my forehead. "But her things are in my car."

"Bring them over, honey. We may find the information in her phone or wallet."

I do. At this point, I can't think any longer. I don't even want to. I'm terrified my mind will transport me back in time again. So I follow the woman's instructions like I wouldn't pass a Captcha. We go through Maddie's wallet and find an insurance card. Turns out she had her mom listed on her iPhone's emergency contact, and the nurse can access it without knowing the password. I bundle everything back into her purse and wait by the counter while the nurse enters the data into a computer and calls Maddie's mother.

When the nurse is done, she turns to me again and smiles. "Take a seat, honey."

Honey this, honey that. What makes her think I'm sweet? I'm so bitter right now, it's all I can taste in my mouth as I return to my chair.

Was this my fault?

If I hadn't tried to approach her… Am I such persona non grata that she can't stand the sight of me anymore? No, I'm being a damn fool. This wasn't my fault, but maybe something's wrong with her, and that's even worse to think about.

I set her bag on the chair beside me and lean my arms on my knees, bending over until my hands hold my head. I don't know how long I stay like that, but I only come out of it when a vaguely familiar voice goes off nearby.

"Where is my Maddie?"

Slowly, I lift my head. A red-haired woman stands at the information desk. I see her in profile. Some of Maddie's features are etched on her face, and the same panic I felt earlier is there too. The nurse talks for a good moment, but I'm too far away to hear her calm voice. After a moment, though, she points at me, and Maddie's mom glances my way. Recognition flashes in her eyes, and she starts heading over. For lack of anything else to do, I get to my feet and wait.

"You're Maddie's plus-one," she says, still a few paces away. But then when I think she'll stop, she doesn't. Instead, she squeezes her arms around me hard enough to crack ribs. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"I—uh?—"

Then she sniffles, and I have no choice but to stay still.

Fortunately, that only lasts a second before she steps away. Her chin trembles the same way as her daughter's does when she's crying. "The nurse told me what you did. Thank you so much for taking care of my Maddie."

I rub the back of my head, pressing hard. Something about the words my Maddie has shut down my brain.

Ironically, I'm rescued by a doctor striding over with a flip chart in her hand. "Madeline Berkley's guardians?"

Her mother basically teleports to the doctor's side and pours some verbal vomit on her. "Yes, I'm her mom! Is she okay? What happened with her? Is it bad? Will she recover?"

All questions I also want the answers to.

"Yes, she's fine. It's a mild concussion," the physician says offhandedly as she flips the chart open and checks something. "Her sugar and iron were extremely low, and there's something else in her bloodwork we've sent to a specialist to check."

A spe?—

Before I can even formulate the question in my mind, Maddie's mom asks, "What kind of specialist?"

"A gynecologist."

"A what?" While she screeches, the woman turns to me. "You didn't get my daughter pregnant, did you?"

"What? No!" I gape.

"No, she's definitely not pregnant," the doctor cuts in before this can escalate. "Her hormones just look off, but it doesn't seem like a thyroid issue. Anyway, the gynecologist will diagnose her accordingly."

This is all going over my head but… it doesn't sound like Maddie's in danger.

I collapse into the chair with a great huff that catches their attention for a second. They talk some more about logistics and payments, and because they have Maddie in a busy area, only her mother is allowed to go sit with her. I give the woman her daughter's bag, and there's still a frown on her face when she looks at me. Maybe she thinks I'm relieved that her daughter's not pregnant. Little does she know I haven't done even one-quarter of the things I want to do with Maddie.

If she lets me, of course. If she even gives me the time of the day again.

Today, just the sight of me was enough to make her run, even though her tank was so empty she fainted. That's how little she wants to be in the same room as me.

But if she was completely indifferent to me, she wouldn't have run.

As I finally leave the hospital, I wonder if I'm wrong for feeling a little hope.