“Melissa and Cohen Cage. My family . . . please,” I gasp, not even giving her the time to finish. I can feel the cool air on my wet cheeks, my tears once again flowing freely.
She looks down, glancing back up at me quickly before returning her eyes to her computer.
“Sir, I don’t see—”
I sag with relief when Axel speaks from my side. “Melissa Cage, ma’am. Brought in by helicopter approximately fifteen minutes ago. Her son, also his son, Cohen Cage, should be arriving by ambulance either shortly after her or soon. Please, make the call and find out where he can find his family.”
Even with his hand grasping my shoulder again, I can’t feel it. That solid strength that he’s trying to pass through to me is completely lost to my panic. I look around, praying that I’ll see Melissa and Cohen in one of the many chairs around the room. Praying that this is some sick joke and my family is okay.
“Greg, let’s go.”
“Huh?” I look over at Axel’s concerned expression, realizing that I missed the rest of his conversation.
“Let’s go. Cohen’s already here being seen and this nice nurse here, Lucy, is taking us to where he is.” He points over to the nurse who’s standing next to the desk, looking at me with the same expression of concern that Axel has on his face.
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. The second I hear that I am about to hold my boy, I feel my heart start beating a little faster. Knowing that they wouldn’t be taking me to him if he were badly injured is helping my fear recede some.
I watch the young nurse’s ponytail sway with each rapid step she takes. I keep wanting to run past her and scream Cohen’s name until I find him, but each time my pace gets too heavy, Axel clears his throat and grabs my arm. I feel like punching him in his goddamn arm for making me walk at this ridiculous pace. We should be running—hell, sprinting—through the halls.
“Right in here, Mr. Cage,” Nurse Lucy states, opening the door to one of the emergency rooms.
I take a step toward the curtain that’s pulled closed. I can hear movement, but I haven’t heard my boy. I still feel the adrenalin pumping rapidly through my body, demanding that I rush, but now that I’m faced with not knowing what’s on the other side of this blue barrier, I’m paralyzed in fear.
“Go. Now. I’ll find someone who can give you some information on Melissa and go back out to the waiting room to see if anyone else is here yet.” Axel gives me a shove before walking back down the hallway we just came down.
With a deep breath, I reach out and open the curtain. I couldn’t have helped the sob that bubbles out audibly if I tried.
“Daddy!” His voice wobbles, and his chin quivers.
With one word, my body wakes up and I all but fall to his side. The nurse standing at his side jumps out of my way and allows me to fall to my knees next to the hospital bed that is all but swallowing his small body whole.
“Oh, God . . . Cohen.”
“You can hold his right hand, sir. We’re just about done with his left side.”
I pull my eyes from Cohen’s for the first time since opening the curtain and notice another person in the room working on stitching up part of his forearm. I can’t see much more because of the angle, but I can see the amount of blood surrounding him, and it feels like a knife has just shot through my heart.
I don’t even look up at the other nurse I almost ran over. I pick Cohen’s hand up and press it to my lips, breathing in his scent.
“I couldn’t help Mommy.” His hand squeezes mine tight, his body shaking so hard that he’s vibrating the bed.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Mommy’s tough. She’s going to be just fine.”
Looking into his eyes, which are normally so full of life, and seeing the pain, fear, and stark, cold terror, I know he doesn’t believe a word out of my mouth. If I’m honest with myself, I know that I sound more like I’m begging than I am reassuring.
“Miss? Is there any way I can get some information on his mother? My wife? She was in the accident as well.” I look into Cohen’s scared eyes, thankful that he’s here and keeping me from tearing this hospital to the ground until I find Melissa.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any information on the other person in the vehicle. Let me go see what I can find out.”
It feels like an eternity while I sit there with Cohen, watching them stitch up different parts of his left arm. From what I can see, the worst of his injuries seem to be the millions of little cuts on almost every open surface of skin on his left side. He seems tired but otherwise just really banged up.
I take the first real breath I’ve breathed since I got Beck’s call earlier.