Unexpected Gift(6)
“Get in the car. We need to go. Now, Molls. Get in the car.” Kenna shoves me down into the passenger seat and slams the door shut.
She runs around the car and hops into the driver’s seat. I reach for the seatbelt, but my hands are shaking so badly, and I couldn't get the seatbelt to click. “Come on,” I say through clenched teeth.
Kenna places her hand on top of mine and takes the seatbelt. “I got it.”
I sigh, letting her take control.
“There we go.” It clicks into place, and Kenna puts the car in reverse as she whips the car around, making the tires squeal against the pavement. She hits the hazard lights and the car jolts forward, speeding down the street and cutting a right off the exit to get on the highway.
Everything blurs behind the tears streaming down my face, or maybe it's from the dizziness. Probably both. I lean forward against the window as rain drizzles, tapping against the windshield. “They’re dead,” I whisper, clutching my phone in my hand. I hate the doctor who called me. I hate her. She ruined everything.
“You don’t know that, Molly. I’m going to tell you this. People need to know. The people you love need to know. If you were the only person on his emergency contact list, then no one knows. Considering not a soul has called you, the ball is in your court. Now, keep yourself together for five minutes. After that, you can fall apart, but first, you need to call them. Okay?”
She is right. I need to pull my shit together. Maybe they are fine. I always think the worse. I wipe my tears away for the hundredth time, and with shaky hands, I call my parents. I feel like I’m going to throw up again.
The phone rings until going to voicemail. Do I leave a message as horrible as this one? I don’t have a choice.
“Hey, Mom. It’s me, Molly.” My voice chokes with emotion, making it hard to speak. “I’m on my way to Glendive General Hospital. Something has happened to Brandon. I didn’t want to leave a message, but I knew you’d want to know. Kenna and I are about two hours out. I’ll see you there. I love you. Tell Dad the same.” I hang up and let out a breath. There is a pounding in my head that won’t stop.
“Who is next?”
“Amelia’s parents? I’m sure they know by now.” Right as I say the words, my phone buzzes. It is a text from her parents saying they are on their way to the hospital. Perfect timing. “It’s them. They know. Thank god. The fewer people I have to call, the better.”
“You need to call Caden. Brandon would want him there.”
Right. Caden. Just the sound of his name makes my heart skip a beat, even during a turbulent time, he affects me, and it makes me dislike him a little more. “Okay, you’re right.” I take a deep breath and hope he doesn’t answer. I dial his number and place the phone against my ear, waiting. His goes to voicemail, too. “Caden, it’s Molly. Brandon and Amelia were in a car accident. Things are really bad, Caden. I’m on my way to Glendive General. I’ll see you there. They told me to prepare myself, so I suggest you do the same.” I end the call on a sob, unable to keep myself together any longer. Of course, he doesn’t answer. Caden is probably sleeping with a woman, or women, knowing him. He is too busy thrusting into some strange hole to take a moment to look at his phone.
I don’t know why that angers me so much. He needs to be there for my brother, not some skank. I toss my phone on the dash and close my eyes, but I can’t sleep. No, that’s impossible given the circumstances. I let out a long sigh and pray my brother and his wife will be alive by the time I get there.
The next two hours are going to be the longest moments of my life.
Chapter Three
Caden
“Time of Death. Twenty-one, fifteen.” I yank my scrub cap off and toss it against the wall. “Damn it!” I shuck the gown off, and one of the scrub nurses removes the headgear that helps me see clearly in the brain.
“You did the best you could, Dr. Jackson,” Eileen, my favorite nurse says, trying to soothe me. She knows her way around the operating room because she has been here for so long. She is older than most nurses, and due to her experience, dealing with me is a walk in the park for her.
“Thanks, Eileen. I’m going to go tell the family. Emerson?” My intern stares at me with wide eyes and his gloved hands held upright, showing me that he hasn’t touched anything. “Close up for me, would you?”
“Yes, Dr. Jackson," Emerson says with a smile. "I’d love to.”
“Don’t make me look bad, Emerson. I don’t want to have to find another intern for my service.”
“Absolutely, Dr. Jackson. Thank you for the opportunity.”
Eileen shoots me a wink, and I roll my eyes. She tells me that all the interns want in on my service because Emerson gets to have more hands-on surgery than most. She also says the women want in because of my good looks, but I don’t need that at work. Plus, Emerson is the best in his group. And only the best get to be neurosurgeons.
I sigh, feeling the tension in my shoulders. I stare out of the glass in the scrub room, watching Emerson close the wound. Jason Castle, the patient on the table, shouldn’t have died. As surgeons, we know anything can happen when a patient of ours lays there, cut open and vulnerable. This time, he had a heart attack on the damn table, right as I went to clip the aneurysm. I paged cardio, but by the time they got down here, Emerson had been doing CPR for fifteen minutes. We pushed epi and shocked him. Still, nothing but a flatline answered.