Jacked (Trent Brothers #1)(2)

I took a deep breath, willing myself to find the courage and professional detachment to get through this. “Thanks, but I think I’ll be okay.”

“I’ll walk with you.” She grabbed a box of tissues from one of the supply drawers and then draped her arm over my shoulder. My chest tightened with every step.

Doctor Jen Wyatt trotted around the far corner, clad in her favorite dark blue scrubs and the new sneakers we’d just shopped for a few days ago. As soon as she saw us she started to run. She nearly sideswiped my ex, Randy, as he came past the nurses’ station; both of them repelling away from each other like two magnetic opposites. He also noticed the dark look she shot him, giving her one in return.

Despite my current mental state of upheaval, her little reaction brought joy to my heart. So did her rushing to my side in the midst of a crisis.

“Oh my God, Erin,” Jen said, ignoring my former lover as he followed her. She pulled me into a crushing hug. “I am so sorry. Are you okay?”

I closed my eyes and hugged her back, hoping that when I opened them again I wouldn’t be staring at Randy’s sexy new glasses through Jen’s long, shimmery black ponytail.

I hadn’t had a chance to tell her I’d noticed her new hair color, either. It went well with her complexion.

“Erin?”

Oh no.

I knew that voice well. I used to jump through hoops to hear him utter my name, but now it was like verbal daggers straight into the heart. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing him to go away. “Not now. I just can’t,” I groaned into Jen’s shoulder.

“Erin,” Randy called again.

“Oh good grief,” Jen said. She spun around to face him, holding her hand up in warning. “Now is not the time, Doctor Mason.”

Randy ignored her and tugged my arm. “Are you all right?”

What a moronic question. I hadn’t been “all right” for quite a while, mostly due to the trauma he had caused on my heart, but that was irrelevant at this point. I’d been managing. I pulled my elbow away. I didn’t need him adding to my emotional defeat.

Jen glared at him. “Of course she isn’t all right.”

He scowled back at her and pointed at me. “I’m not talking to you, okay? I’m talking to her. Erin. Hon…”

“Oh God.” The words in my head slipped out of my mouth, constricting my ability to swallow in their wake.

Jen glanced at me, came to some conclusion, and then turned back on the man I thought I’d once loved in some delusional moment of my past.

“Now is not the time. So do us all a favor, save your words and leave her be. We’ve got this.”

His mouth dropped open to argue, his body poised to adamantly disagree. I didn’t have any fight left in me.

Jen shushed him with her hand. “I said we’ve got this. Now go on.”

I wanted to kiss her and her southern-bred sass for being so awesome.

“I’ll check in with you later, Erin,” he grumbled, taking a retreating step.

I couldn’t keep from watching his sexy ass as he stormed off.

“He’s a jerk,” Jen said. “You do not need that man in your head clogging your brain anymore. Now you just forget about him and let’s take care of you.”

I was glad she was being my shield as I was in no position to defend myself or my failing willpower.

Sherry nodded. “I agree. I was taking her down to the family room. Her mom and dad are waiting.” She pointed down the hallway.

“Okay.” Jen put her hand on my shoulder, steering me. “We’ll go with you.”

We stopped a few feet from the waiting room door and Sherry handed the box of tissues to me. “Here, take them just in case. You ready to do this?”

NO, I was most definitely NOT ready to do this.

I nodded anyway.

Jen rubbed my arm. “You want one of us to go in there with you? I don’t care about protocol.”

Actually I didn’t want anyone to have to go in there and see my parents cry. I wanted to reverse the wicked hands of time and eradicate this entire nightmare from my life. “Thanks, but…” I stared at the ominous door. “I’ll be okay. I have to be, right?”

Jen hugged me again. “We’ll be right here if you need us.”

I took a deep breath and forced myself to open the door.

My mother startled when she saw me. Her eyes were red and puffy and she was sniffling into a wad of tissues. My dad looked tired and disheveled, as if new worry lines had crinkled his forehead and weary bags had formed underneath his eyes. I could tell he’d dressed quickly; his shirt, which was always tucked neatly into his pants in a staunch, business-like fashion, was wrinkled and hanging out.

I should have waited for Doctor Sechler to update them but this was my family, not some random group of strangers. I sat down next to my mom, taking her chilled, trembling hands in mine, trying to will her to stop begging Jesus to give her another answer with my steady gaze.

“Mom, listen. Uncle Cal is alive, but… He’s in… He’s in critical condition.” The urge to cry was imminent, but I had to be strong. I couldn’t leave the delivery of this information to anyone else.

My mother sniffed. “How…? How bad is he?”

I held my breath for a moment and collected my words—words that were failing me because I knew no matter how I said them they would have devastating effects.