by Shay Stone
She takes my face between her hands. “Hey, listen to me. Those were not your last words to him. He’s going to make it through this.”
“What if he doesn’t? What if he dies hating me? What if I never get to tell him how sorry I am and how goddamn much he means to me?” I try to blink back the tears that have formed, but it only makes them fall.
She brushes them away with her thumb and I see her own eyes welling up. “Mason knows you love him. He’s going to be okay. We’ll do whatever we need to do to make sure he is.”
The way she says it, I almost believe her.
“What can I do to help?” Max asks.
I forgot he was even there. I pull back from Nyla, dragging a palm over my face. My brain isn’t functioning right now. All I can think about is Mason lying on the hard pavement all alone. And it’s all my fault. “I’ve got to get up to Albany County General. I need a train ticket.”
“No, fuck that. We’ll take my private chopper,” he replies, dialing his phone.
Nyla caresses my head. “I’m going to grab you a shirt and make a quick call while Max makes arrangements, okay?”
“Okay,” I repeat, unsure of what she even said. Normally, I’m great in a crisis, but at this moment, I just feel lost. Should I call the hospital? Pack a bag? Check on my dad? “Nyla, I don’t know what to do.”
“You don’t have to do anything. Max and I have got this. We’ll take care of everything.” She kisses my forehead and speaks to Max for a minute before disappearing into the other room.
From there, everything is a blur. I barely remember boarding the helicopter for the flight or the car ride to the hospital. I shoot a quick text to Mike and Cora, letting them know we’ve arrived with one hand, holding tight onto Nyla with the other. She leads me through the automated doors into the bustling emergency waiting room. There must have been an accident or something because there are people everywhere, crying and crowding the desk shouting questions at the poor receptionist.
“There’s a nurse we can ask,” Nyla announces, pulling me through the crowd. I gaze up and come to a dead stop causing Nyla to jerk backward.
“What is it? Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Sorry,” I reply without further explanation, resuming my pace and approach Bethany, the same nurse who took care of me after Angie stabbed me. If I was thinking, I’d avoid her. But I’m not, and I don’t have time to worry about it.
She smiles, recognizing me immediately. Shit. “Well, if it isn’t Batman.”
Nyla’s forehead wrinkles in confusion wondering why this woman is referring to me as a superhero.
“Hey, my little brother was rushed in a little while ago.”
“Okay, okay. Calm down. We’ll find him,” she says, scanning her clipboard. “What’s the last name?”
“Drake. Same as mine. Mason Drake.”
She gives me an odd glance and checks the list. “Yes, here he is. Mason Drake. He’s been moved to CCU.”
“Memphis! This way,” Cora calls out appearing from around the corner. “I’ll take him Bets.” I can tell by the lines creasing her face things are not good. We follow Cora down the hall, with me making quick introductions along the way. Cora glances back at Nyla. “It’s nice to finally meet you and put a face with a voice.”
When did they speak? Never mind, it doesn’t matter. “What’d the doctor say?” I ask.
“The same thing as before. Part of his heart is dying. It’s happening quicker than they thought. They’re moving him to the top of the transplant list, but he’s got that damn Rh-negative blood type.” She dabs at the corner of her eyes with a wadded-up tissue. “He’s in room 417. You go on ahead. I’ll see if the doctor is available to talk to you,” she says, lingering behind at the nurses’ station.
We pass by several rooms filled with people triple and quadruple Mason’s age. He shouldn’t be in here. He’s too young to have to deal with all this shit. Up ahead, we see Mike standing outside in the hall with my dad, trying to calm him down.
“Michael’s here? How did he beat us?” Nyla whispers. I’m saved from answering when my dad spots me and races over.
“Memphis, I don’t know what’s going on. Why are we here? The doctors won’t tell me anything and I can’t find your mother anywhere.”
“It’s okay, Dad. I’m here. I’ll take care of it,” I assure him, patting his shoulder and continuing into Mason’s room. I’ll deal with him in a minute. First, I need to see Mason with my own eyes.
The only light on in the room is a harsh florescent bulb affixed to the wall above the bed emphasizing the dark hollows of Mason’s eyes against his pale skin. It gives him a skeletal appearance despite the swelling in his face and hands. He’s retaining too much fluid. I’m no doctor, but I know that’s not good.
You’d think I’d be used to all this by now. But no matter how many times we’ve been here, it never gets any easier seeing my baby brother lying there hooked up to all those machines. It makes me feel helpless. I stroke his hair and kiss his forehead, choking back tears.
Nyla joins me beside his bed, leaning into me and rubbing her hand over my back. Despite everything else going on, I’m glad she’s here. She’s the only thing that’s keeping me together. I wrap an arm around her waist and grip Mason’s hand giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Come on, Mase. It’s time to get up. I’ve got someone here I want you to meet. This is Nyla. The one I was telling you about.”
Of course, he doesn’t answer. But Nyla greets him anyway. “Hi Mason. Memphis talks about you all the time. He loves you very much. I’d really like you to wake up and tell me some embarrassing stories about him.”
I appreciate her effort. This is not how I imagined them meeting.
Cora reappears with the doctor who reiterates everything she’s already told me. Mason’s rare blood type makes finding a donor heart difficult and time is running out. While he’s speaking, I notice Nyla fooling with her phone and it pisses me off. My little brother could be dying and she’s texting? The doctor answers my questions, promising to keep me posted on any changes and goes back to his rounds.
Once he’s gone, I turn on Nyla and snap. “Who the hell were you texting and what is so damn important that you couldn’t be bothered to listen to the doctor?”
She flinches, taken aback by my gruff tone. “I wasn’t texting. I was recording what the doctor was saying.”
“Why don’t I take everyone to the cafeteria to get some coffee and give you two a minute?” Max suggests, ushering Cora, Mike, and my dad out of the room.
I wait until they’re gone before going off again. “Why?”
“I was planning on talking to you about this today.” She hesitates. “Last night I wasn’t with Alex.”
“Yeah, no shit.” My response catches her by surprise. “Why don’t you tell me who you were with, Nyla,” I grate her name like it’s a curse word.
She sighs. “I had dinner with my ex-boyfriend, Trevor.”
I can’t believe she’s telling me this now. I back away from her and explode. “Well, that’s just great. I hope you two had a great fucking time!”
“Memphis, please let me explain.”
“There’s no need. Please just go. I can’t deal with this right now.”
“Will you shut up and listen to me? It’s not what you think,” she fires back, grabbing me by the sleeves of my shirt.
I yank away. “What the hell is it then? Because right now it sounds like you’re cheating on me!”
“I would never do that!” she shouts, appalled by the accusation. “Trevor is a heart surgeon and his dad is one of the top cardiologists in the country. When we were together, they were developing a new device for patients with heart failure. It’s some kind of patch that attaches to the heart and is used in conjunction with special shots to help the damaged area recover and regenerate. I was online messaging him about it when you came into my office a few weeks ago. I didn’t know if they were still conducting trials yet or if Mason
would even be a candidate for it, but I decided it was worth reaching out to him.”
“And that’s why you met with him yesterday?”
“Yes. He needed to see Mason’s medical records. I swiped Cora’s number out of your phone and called to see if she could get me a copy of them. I’m sorry if I overstepped, but I wanted to help. I begged Cora not to say anything in case Mason wasn’t eligible. Yesterday morning I called and told him I had everything he needed. He said he was going out of town Monday, but he was willing to meet me last night to look them over.”
I exhale, calming down a little but I’m still pissed she kept it from me. “You could have told me.”
“I wanted to, but I didn’t want to get your hopes up. And to be honest, I saw how jealous you got over Michael and I was afraid how you might react.”
It’s a valid excuse given my recent behavior. “I guess I have been acting like a jealous prick.”
“Yeah, you have. And Trevor can be a bit of an egomaniac. I didn’t want you two getting into a brawl over something stupid and have him refuse to help Mason out of spite. Because believe me, he would do that. He’s a total asshole. But he’s great at what he does.”
“So, what did he say? Can he help Mason?”
“He needed to consult with his father, but he thinks Mason is an excellent candidate. I called him before we left and told him what happened, and he asked me to update him on what the doctor said immediately. That’s why I was recording it. I just sent it over.” Her phone rings. “It’s him.”
She answers the call and I listen anxiously. If I hadn’t been acting like such an asshole, she could have come to me and maybe Mason could have had the surgery sooner and he wouldn’t be in this position. I pray it’s not too late.
“Alright, thanks Trevor.” She hangs up and places her phone on the table. “He’s going to call the hospital now, but he needs you to sign a release form giving them permission to speak to him. As soon as Mason’s stable enough, we need to air lift him to New York–Presbyterian. Trevor and his father will meet us there and take him straight into surgery.”
“Okay. Will you stay with Mason while I go do that? I don’t want him to be alone if he wakes up.”
“I’ll be right here,” she promises, sliding a chair across the floor to hold vigil at Mason’s bedside. I watch her take his hand and it brings a small smile to my face, if only a fleeting one.
I reach the nurses’ station and rest my arms on the counter, burning a hole into the attendant, waiting for him to acknowledge me. He continues typing without so much as a glance up. When I clear my throat to get his attention, he still ignores me. My nerves are shot; my patience gone. I’m about two seconds from going back there and yanking his scrawny ass out of the damn chair when he finally raises his eyes, glaring at me like I’m an inconvenience. “Can I help you?”
I grate my teeth together and force a smile. “Hi. I need to sign some kind of release form allowing my brother’s doctor to speak with a surgeon from another hospital.”
“Name,” he huffs.
“Mason Drake.”
“Hang on.” He pushes back in his chair rolling over to a filing cabinet.
“Memphis?”
My head whips around at the familiar voice and I come face to face with Giovanni. “Hey. I thought that was you. What are you doing here? Is everything alright?”
What the hell is he doing here?
“Giovanni, hey. No. It’s my little brother. He collapsed earlier. He has a bad heart. They’re getting ready to transport him to New York-Presbyterian for emergency surgery.”
“Aww, man. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“What are you doing all the way up here?”
“Chasing down a lead. Remember that guy we were talking about earlier? I got a tip right after you left. He got stabbed a few weeks ago and may have come here for treatment. I’m waiting to see if they’ve got any kind of address on him for me. Or something else I can go off of.”
The hostile attendant returns thrusting the form at me. “Fill this out, sign it, and bring it back to the desk.”
“Okay, thank you,” I reply, taking it from him and backtrack towards Mason’s room. “I’ll see you later. Good luck with your lead.”
“Thanks. I hope your brother’s okay. Let us know if you need anything. I’ll text you this week to check on him.” He lifts his chin greeting the person approaching from behind me. “Good afternoon, ma’am.”
I spin on my heels almost knocking into Bethany. She clocks Giovanni’s badge hanging from his belt and shoots a quick glance at me before addressing him. “Good afternoon. How can I help you?”
“Hi. I’m Detective Giovanni Ricci. I’m hoping you can give me some information. I was told you were working the ER a few weeks ago when a man going by the name of James Hamilton may have come in. Is there somewhere we can talk?”
TWENTY-FIVE
Find Allies
Can any more shit be piled on top me right now? I return to Mason’s room and attempt to complete the form, but my hands are shaking so badly, I can barely hold the pen. Giovanni can’t haul me away before Mason has his surgery. He just can’t.
Nyla sees me struggling and takes the pen from my hand. “Here, let me.”
We go through the questions one by one until they’re answered and all that’s left for me to do is sign. She rises from her chair capping the pen. “I’m going to take this back to the nurses’ station and then I’ll grab us some coffee from the vending machine. Do you want anything else? Crackers? Chips? Peanuts?”
“No thank you. I’m not hungry,” I reply, taking a seat at Mason’s bedside.
She frowns and presses a kiss to my head. “Okay. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I catch her hand as she’s leaving. “Thank you. I don’t know how I’d get through all this if you weren’t here.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” She gives my hand a squeeze and leaves me alone with my brother.
“She’s really something Mase. You’re going to love her. And I know she’s going to love you.” My heart aches knowing the two of them may never get the opportunity to speak.
I clasp his hand between my own and rest my forehead against them. “You gotta wake up, buddy. If anything happens to me, I’ll need you to look after Dad. I’ve done some things, Mase. Things I’m not proud of. Things that would make you ashamed of me. At the time, I thought they were necessary, but now … I don’t know. Maybe they weren’t. Maybe I could have done stuff differently. But I’m trying to change. I want to be the guy you think I am. Someone you can be proud of, the way I’m proud of you.” My voice cracks, the tears flowing freely now that I’m alone. “Please, Mase. You’ve gotta stick around to give me that chance.”
The sound of someone clearing their throat has me wiping my eyes. I look over to find Bethany standing in the doorway. I have no idea how long she’s been there or how much she’s heard.
She grabs the chart from the end of the bed and comes over to fool with the machine beside me. “The way you were talking, I thought maybe he woke up.”
“No. Not yet. I heard sometimes people in a coma can hear you if you talk to them. I want him to know I’m here.”
“He knows,” she assures me, patting my shoulder and offers me a tissue from the box next to Mason’s bed.
I take a few and give her a half-hearted smile. “Thanks.”
“You know that detective came here askin’ about a James Hamilton.”
I freeze, swallowing past the lump in my throat and work to make my voice calm and even. “Is that so?”
“Funny thing, cause I coulda swore that was the name you used when you were here getting yourself sewed up a few weeks back.”
“No, ma’am. Memphis.” I point to myself. “Always has been. Mom was a big Elvis fan. They were in Memphis on their way to Graceland when she went into labor with me. Guess it could’ve been worse. They could have been visiting Chattanooga.”
She chuckles. “Cor
a said you were a charmer. She tell you we’re sisters?”
“No ma’am. I didn’t know that.” Cora’s mentioned her sister “Bets” before. I never put it together.
“Yeah. She talks a lot about you, ya know? Says you’re a real good guy. Told me you’re the one who got her a plane ticket and gave her a job when she wanted to leave that rotten husband of hers. Says he probably woulda killed her if you hadn’t personally come and gotten her out of there.”
“I was happy to do it. We needed her as much as she needed us.”
“Well, I’m real thankful for what you did. Not a lotta folks willin’ to get involved in that kind of thing. I wish I could’ve helped her myself, but I was in a bad situation of my own. I probably would’ve ended up dead too if Cora hadn’t convinced me to leave and move up here six months ago. I owe her.” She hangs the chart back on the end of the bed. “Doctor should be in again soon.”
“Hey, Bethany?” I stand, tucking Mason’s blanket around him, trying to come off casual. “What’d you tell the detective?”
“I told him I couldn’t violate patient confidentiality, but even if I could, I see a lot of patients every day and my memory’s not so good. For all I knew, he could be James Hamilton. Told him he might have better luck at Regional or one of the other medical centers.” She winks passing Nyla on her way out.
I breathe a sigh of relief. That’s one load off my mind. For now, anyway. I smile at Nyla. “No coffee?”
“Sorry, no. Trevor just called. Everything is a go. They’re going to prep Mason for the flight.”
My jaw ticks at the mention of Trevor’s name and I feel guilty for it. She was right not to tell me before. The man’s trying to save my brother’s life and still my first instinct is to find him and tell him to stay the hell away from Nyla. I know it’s absurd, but I can’t help it. This jealousy thing is new to me, and I haven’t gotten a handle on it yet. I never know when it’s going to come out and turn me into a knuckle-dragging Neanderthal.