Priceless (Forbidden Men #8)(96)

But then my mental checklist kicked in. I blew out a steadying breath before scanning her surroundings to make sure nothing nearby could endanger her. Her head was already propped up by her pillow, her clothes were gone, unable to constrict her, and there didn’t seem to be anything close to hurt herself on, except maybe me. I scooted to the edge of the mattress and glanced at the clock to time her.

Hating this shit, I ran my hands over my face, prayed it ended quickly. It always felt like I should do something. But I knew the best help was to stay back and let her work through it, making sure she couldn’t hurt herself in the process. With cold, shaking hands, I slid off the bed and jerked on my clothes. About thirty seconds had passed by the time I was fully dressed.

Sarah still seemed safely positioned on the bed, her body seizing with the most painful-looking, jarring shudders. I cursed under my breath and paced the floor. Three minutes later, the convulsions subsided.

“Thank God.” My voice was hoarse as I rushed to the bed and sat beside her. But as soon as I touched her arm, she started again, the tremors even worse this time around.

“Sarah?” I tightened my grip on her arm. More than one seizure in a row was bad. So I panicked. “Baby?”

She didn’t answer, still seizing out of control. “Shit!”

This time, I didn’t even wait a minute before yelling, “Mason!” at the top of my lungs while I dug my phone from my pocket and dialed 911.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.





BRANDT




I sat slumped in the chair next to Mason, elbows on my knees and face in my hands.

Sarah’s brother was silent as a tomb as he tapped his fingers against his thigh, watching every orderly who passed by the hospital’s waiting room, where we f*cking sat...and waited.

We’d ridden to the hospital together, following the ambulance, and Mason had grilled me about everything that had happened. I’d been so scared and numbed with shock I’d blurted out all of it. Even the belts part.

Clenching the steering wheel, he’d gritted out, “You stupid f*cking idiot. If she dies tonight, I’ll kill you.”

And he hadn’t spoken to me since.

Closing my eyes and trying to breathe through the fear, I didn’t bother telling him he needn’t bother. If Sarah died, I’d take myself out.

All the oxygen in my lungs rushed from me in a petrified shudder.

Jesus, she’d better not die. I wouldn’t survive it.

When footsteps clattered into the room, I looked up only to find Reese rushing inside. She’d had to stay back with the kids and wait for Pick to show up and babysit.

“Anything?” she asked breathlessly, darting her gaze between me and Mason.

Mason sprang from his chair. “No. Not yet.” He yanked her against his chest and hugged her hard, burying his face in her hair.

I had to look away, because I needed Sarah here to hug and reassure me.

Pain passed through my abdomen, making me double over and hug my stomach. But I kept sitting there, repressing the urge to slam my fists into the closest wall or break down into tears.

I’m not sure how long I’d sat there, just holding it all in, when someone said, “Brandt?”

I looked up to find Noel, Colton and Ten slowly approaching, looking wary and cautious.

Blinking, I shook my head, confused. “What’re you guys doing here?”

“Pick called,” Noel explained as he sat next to me. “We’re here for you. How’s she doing? Have you heard anything yet?”

I shook my head and glanced around for Mason and Reese, but they were no longer in the room. Worried I’d missed something, I jerked to my feet, but Colton caught my arm.

“They’re in the hallway,” he murmured, the warning in his gaze telling me not to go near them.

“And Lowe seems pissed,” Ten added. “At you.”

“What happened?” Noel asked, rising back to his feet after me.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block the memory of Sarah convulsing on her bed. “We had sex,” I whispered.

“But...I thought you two had already—”

“It was kinkier this time,” I bit out, glaring at Colton until he clamped his mouth shut. Then my shoulder collapsed as the grief gripped me all over again. “She, uh, the seizures started as soon as I untied her.”

All three of my brothers winced.

“Damn,” Ten murmured.

I pierced him with a harsh glance, prepared for one of his inappropriate, asinine comments, so I could punch him into next week. I actually craved it; I wanted to hit something so bad. But he only sent me a sympathetic cringe, and I was tempted to jack him in the jaw anyway, just to relieve some of the agony.

In the hall, I heard someone say, “Sarah Arnosta’s family,” and I lurched that way, desperate to hear good news.

By the time I made it into the hall, Noel, Ten and Colton piling after me, the doctor was already speaking to Mason and Reese. “...appears to have been the result of a stroke.”

A stroke?

I choked on my shock, and my knees buckled underneath me. The only reason I didn’t go down was because one of my brothers latched his hand around my arm, supporting me. But it still felt as if I fell into a huge, harrowing abyss. The air sucked from my lungs as black spots dotted my vision.