by Callie Rose
I didn’t even finish that sentence, already halfway out the door. I needed to get to Roseland Medical. I needed to be there now.
Chapter 17
A ride. I need a ride.
Flipping my backpack around to my front, I dug for my phone with shaking hands. There were two missed calls from a number I didn’t recognize, and I realized the hospital must’ve tried to call my cell first before switching to the alternate number Philip had for me.
Fuck. How many minutes had I lost because of that?
I pulled up the Uber app, and was about to start typing the hospital’s address when a voice penetrated the fog of my brain.
“Talia? Hey, Legs. You okay?”
My head jerked up with a start. I’d been walking and typing at the same time, hardly aware of my surroundings at all, and I’d almost run right into Finn.
“No.” It was the same one-word answer I’d given Miss Wallace, but it was the truth. “My grandpa. I have to—”
I skirted around him, heading for the south side of Craydon Hall where drop-offs and pick-ups happened, but he jogged to catch up to me.
“Your grandpa? What happened?”
“He had a—a stroke.” The word felt strange on my tongue. “I have to go—”
“Fuck.” Finn cursed low under his breath. Then he caught my arm. “Come on. I’ll drive you.”
There was a time when I would’ve refused. But at the moment, all I could think about was getting to the hospital, being there in case Philip needed me. So I nodded, letting Finn tug me in the opposite direction. We left Craydon Hall and cut northeast toward the student lot, and he kept his hand on my arm until we reached his car.
I’d actually never been in Finn’s car before. All through the previous semester, whenever we’d gone somewhere as a group, it was almost always in Mason’s car. Finn’s was black and sleek, though I wasn’t sure what kind it was, and he opened the passenger door for me, tugging my backpack off my shoulders and dropping it on the back seat while I sank into the plush leather up front. When he slid behind the wheel, he glanced over at me, running a hand through his golden-blond hair.
“Where is he?”
“Um. Roseland Medical.” I lifted the piece of paper in my hand, struggling to read the scrawled writing.
“I know where that is. It’s only like twenty minutes away. It’ll be okay, Legs. We’ll get there fast.”
I nodded numbly. Twenty minutes sounded like way too long. So much could happen in that time. My fingers twisted around and around each other in my lap as Finn gunned the engine and sped out of the lot. As he pulled onto the street, he rested his large hand over mine, the warmth of his skin almost shocking. Mine felt cold and stiff.
“Did they tell you anything else?”
“No,” I whispered. “He’s in surgery. That’s all the guy would say.”
“I didn’t realize you were still in touch with your grandpa.”
My gaze snapped up, fear converting to anger in a flash. “Sorry to wreck your plan. My grandma still hates me, if that makes you feel better.”
“No. Tal.” His hand stayed on mine, and his voice was serious. “I’m glad. You didn’t deserve to lose your whole family.”
“I might anyway,” I said dully, staring out the front windshield.
“You won’t.”
It was an empty promise, the kind of thing people say when disaster strikes just so they can find some hope and keep functioning. But surprisingly, it helped. I flipped my hands over, grabbing onto his and holding on tight, and he glanced over at me before hitting the gas again.
We got to the hospital in eighteen minutes. I watched each one of them tick by on the dashboard clock, and the back of Finn’s hand had little indentations from my fingers by the time he finally pulled up in front of the hospital.
“Thank you.”
The words came out in a rush. I was already halfway out of the car, and he dipped his head to look at me as he popped the locks, allowing me to grab my backpack from the seat.
“He’ll be okay, Tal. He’s a Hildebrand. That means he’s a fighter.”
I bit my lip, trying to believe him. Then I turned and bolted into the hospital.
I found a nurses’ desk and explained in garbled words who I was and what I was doing there.
“Ah. Mr. Hildebrand? He just got out of surgery. He’ll be in room 508. You can take a seat, and I’ll let you know when he’s been brought up.”
This was clearly a nice hospital, with wide, padded seats and huge potted plants in the waiting area, but I couldn’t sit. I stood off to the side, doing my best to keep from pacing. My stomach was one giant knot, continuously untying and retying itself until I thought I was going to barf. Someone was drinking coffee as they waited nearby, and the smell, usually one of my favorites, just made my nausea worse.
I couldn’t quite explain the intensity of my reaction. I hardly knew Philip. Hadn’t known him at all until last year and hadn’t been remotely close to him until just the past few weeks.
So why were my palms sweating, my limbs shaking at the thought of losing him?
Maybe that was exactly why. I had just started to get close to him, just started to find out what kind of person he was. If he died now, all the time we’d lost would seem even worse. All the years I could’ve known him, but didn’t—they would’ve been the last chance I had.
The nurse kept an eye on me, obviously a little irritated by my restless movements but used to it from visitors. She seemed relieved when she finally told me Philip was settled and I could go up to see him.
I gripped the straps of my backpack so hard my nails dug into my palms as I walked down the long, bland hallway on the fifth floor toward my grandpa’s room. He had a private suite, and when I stepped inside, a doctor was standing at the end of his bed, looking over his chart.
The man in the white coat glanced up at me. “Are you Talia?”
I nodded, trying to look at him, but my gaze kept dragging back to my grandpa. Philip was slightly propped up in the hospital bed, his eyes closed, an oxygen tube hooked up to his nose.
He looked older. So much older than I’d ever seen him. Like he’d aged twenty years and lost twenty pounds overnight.
“How…” I swallowed. “How is he?”
The doctor dipped his head, flipping a page on Philip’s chart. I couldn’t tell if he was the same guy I’d spoken to on the phone. Probably not.
“His surgery went well. We were able to find and clear the blocked arteries quickly. We’ll need to monitor him for several days, but things are looking good.”
I ran both hands through my hair, pulling them through the long brown strands. “Oh, thank fuck.”
The doctor’s lips twitched up on one side. “Yes. I suppose that is one way to put it. I’m Doctor Garrett, by the way.”
He held out his hand, and I stepped forward to shake it, glancing over at my grandfather again. “He’s really going to be okay?”
“Well, we’re optimistic. At this stage, we can’t make any guarantees, but I don’t want you to worry too much, okay? He’s in good hands.”
I nodded, a little of my relief dissipating at his vague response. “Can I stay with him?”
“Of course. Pull up a chair, make yourself comfortable. There are vending machines and coffee in the hall. A nurse will be in to check on him in a while.” He hung Philip’s chart up near the end of the bed, then turned to leave before stopping in the doorway. “Oh, and we still haven’t been able to reach your grandmother. We’ll keep trying, but you’re welcome to try too if you’d like.”
“Okay.”
I waited until he left, then pulled a chair from the corner nearer to the large bed Philip lay in. This chair was plush and comfortable too, padded on the arms, seat, and back. I folded my body up into it, gazing at my grandpa as I wrapped my arms around my knees. It was probably completely uncouth to put my feet up on the seat, but I didn’t really care at the moment.
After a few minutes of
silence, punctuated only by the beep of the heart monitor, I dug into my backpack where it rested against the chair and pulled out my cell. I’d deleted Jacqueline’s contact info from my phone, but like a bad song that you hear once and find yourself singing later, I was pretty sure I remembered it.
I didn’t want to call her. She didn’t deserve any kindness from me.
But when I glanced back up at Philip, I sighed.
Part of me hoped I’d remembered the number wrong as I listened to it ring. But when it went to voice mail, my grandma’s voice was the one on the recording.
I hung up quickly. The hospital had already tried contacting her, so they must’ve left a message. She didn’t need one from me.
Time oozed by, and I stared at Philip like he might open his eyes and jump out of bed at any moment.
But he didn’t.
He was still asleep when Jacqueline arrived. She pushed open the door and entered in a hurry, stark fear on her face as she took in Philip’s appearance. Then her gaze landed on me, and she did something like a triple-take.
Huh. Guess Philip really had managed to keep our little meetings secret.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice was strained, and the muscles of her neck tightened.
“My grandfather is in the hospital. I have a right to come see him.” I’d leapt to my feet without realizing it when she entered, and I stood like I was about ready to physically fight her. I would too, if she tried to make me leave. “I know you knew I was back in Roseland, so don’t act so surprised. Maybe you want to check on your husband.”
I jerked my head toward the bed, and Jacqueline started, shaking her head as if to clear it as she crossed closer to him. She came to stand on the opposite side of the bed from me, gripping his hand in hers. An expression of genuine tenderness crossed her face, and I looked down. I didn’t want to see that shit. Knowing she was capable of love only made the shitty things she’d done to me and my mom worse.
“The doctor said surgery went well. He said they’re optimistic,” I told the floor.
“Good.” Her voice was cool, distant.
I clenched my teeth. “Look, we don’t have to talk. In fact, I’d love it if we didn’t. But you can’t make me leave. So get over it.”
When I glanced up at her, she was staring at me with an almost shocked expression on her face. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then snapped it shut abruptly and moved daintily to sit in a chair in the corner. She was obviously too high-class to drag it closer to the bed like I’d done with mine, and I celebrated my mental victory over her for not having a stick up my ass.
We stayed like that for several hours. Long enough that I ducked out to the hall to grab a snack and some surprisingly decent coffee from the vending machine. Jacqueline shifted irritably as I crunched on my bag of chips, and I chalked up another petty win. I hadn’t realized quite how much I’d been under her thumb when I’d been here last year—until I wasn’t anymore. She’d been so used to dictating my life in big and small ways, and I could tell it grated at her that she couldn’t do that anymore.
Well. Good.
By 9:30, my head was bobbing as I tried to stay awake. It wasn’t even that late, but it’d been a long week of studying, and I’d been sitting in a tense, quiet room for over six hours. I hadn’t spoken to Jacqueline since she first arrived, and she hadn’t spoken to me.
“You can go home.” Her voice broke the silence, making me jump. “The hospital will keep you updated.”
I noticed she hadn’t volunteered to do it, and I shook my head angrily. But she was right. I could come back tomorrow, and when the nurse had come by an hour ago to check on Philip, she’d said he was in stable condition.
“Are you staying?” I shot a glance at her out of the corner of my eye.
“I… don’t know.” The look she shot Philip made me think she probably would, and that helped solidify my decision. As much as I wanted to be here when my grandpa woke up, I really didn’t feel like having a fucking slumber party with Jacqueline.
“Okay. I’ll come back tomorrow.”
I stood and hefted my backpack onto one shoulder. I was still wearing my Oak Park uniform, and I brushed my skirt down as I stepped up beside Philip’s bed. I kind of wanted to hug him, but I hadn’t even done that when he was conscious, so it felt weird to do it now. I settled for resting my hand over his. “See you.”
Without looking at Jacqueline, I headed for the door. The elevator dropped me off on the first floor, and I made my way toward the same door I’d come in, watching the strange night crew that populated the hospital—doctors, nurses, and people like me who were killing time waiting for news about a loved one.
As I stepped out into the cool California air, I tugged my phone from my bag and was just about to pull up the Uber app when a voice stopped me.
“Hey.”
My gaze flew up, landing on Finn. The blond football player quirked a small grin at me, his dimples flashing and disappearing.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. You ready to head out?”
I blinked. “Have you… been here all this time?”
“Well, yeah.” He shrugged. “I was your ride.”
“But you didn’t have to—I could’ve taken an Uber back.”
“I know.” He ran a hand over the back of his neck, looking almost embarrassed. “I just wanted to be here in case you needed anything.”
“You’ve just been hanging out in the parking lot?”
“No. Not the whole time.” Then he grinned again. “Okay, most of the time.”
“Why didn’t you come inside?”
He shrugged, stepping forward. “I dunno. I didn’t want to intrude. It’s your family. I know things are… messed up, and I didn’t want to make it worse.” His hands brushed over my shoulders before gliding up my neck to cup my face lightly. “I’m trying, Legs. I really am. I just—don’t know what to do all the time. Is it okay that I stayed?”
I pressed my lips together, trying not to let it show on my face how much his gesture meant.
It was stupid, in a way. I had money now; I could’ve easily afforded a ride back to school. Or he could’ve driven to campus and come back for me later if he really wanted to chauffeur me.
But the fact that he’d been here the whole time, lending support in the best way he knew how, right outside the doors if I needed him… It made warmth bloom in my chest that I couldn’t snuff out no matter how hard I tried.
“Yeah,” I murmured, gazing up into his bright eyes, trying not to lean into his touch. His palms were warm and large and slightly calloused, and he smelled like citrus and sunshine.
“Good.” He took one step closer to me, his hands sliding up to thread through my hair. Then he took a deep breath, pulling himself back as if it took extreme effort. “Let’s get you home.”
He led me to his car, which he’d parked in an extended stay lot, and held the door for me as I slid inside. He drove slower on the way back to campus, which only made me realize how fast he’d been going earlier in the day.
“How’s your grandpa?” He glanced over at me.
“Okay, I think. Stable. I’ll go back tomorrow and see him again.” I hesitated, wondering if I should even mention it, then added, “My grandma showed up.”
“Yeah.” His lips pursed. “I figured she would.”
“She still hates me.”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I wondered about that.”
“Did you guys know?” I asked softly, staring into the side view mirror at the streetlights disappearing behind us. “That she’d be the most mad about me cursing out the family name? ’Cause I really think she was. The other videos and pictures of me upset her. But it was that clip from my birthday that sent her over the edge. Did you know?”
Finn sighed, letting the soft sound of the radio fill the car for a second before answering. “Mason knew. Or at least, he had an idea. The Hildebrands have always been like that, I guess. It was an easy thi
ng to exploit.”
I drummed my fingers against the door. “So you’re the reason my grandma hates me.”
“Yeah.” He dropped his chin, defeat heavy in his voice. “I guess so.”
We lapsed into silence, and I leaned back against the headrest, closing my eyes.
Finn was wrong. He wasn’t the reason my grandma hated me. None of the Princes were. What they’d done was awful and unforgivable, but they hadn’t made Jacqueline hate me. They’d paved the path for her, but she had walked it.
She could’ve listened.
She could’ve let me explain.
She could’ve shown me a scrap of human decency, even if she was furious at me.
But she hadn’t. She’d let her indignation and rage boil over and had shoved me out of her life.
“I’m sorry, Legs.” Finn shook his head. “We should never have fucked with your family. My family is… well, they’re not perfect, but I love them. We shouldn’t have gotten between you and yours.”
Twisting a strand of hair around my fingers, I blew out a breath. “Why does Mason hate my family so much?”
I almost wasn’t expecting an answer. I knew Mason despised the Hildebrands, but I’d never been able to figure out why. It hadn’t been anything I’d done to him, I knew that.
But Finn didn’t ignore the question. Instead, he hesitated for a moment, then finally spoke.
“Because he thinks your mom killed his mom.”
Chapter 18
I choked on my next breath. My head whipped to the side so fast something in my neck popped. “What?”
Finn glanced over at me, the eyes I was so used to seeing gleam with laughter clouded and heavy. They’d seemed that way for a lot of the semester actually. It made me miss the old Finn.
“His mom died nine years ago. She committed suicide.”
“Wait. What?”
My mind was reeling. I’d known Mason’s mom was dead. I remembered the look of intense, clawing grief that’d passed over his face when he talked about her once. But if she’d committed suicide nine years ago…