I get to my feet, trying to usher some strength into them as they threaten to buckle straight out from underneath me. I’m lightheaded and my massively bruised shoulder is throbbing like a bitch. “I’m gonna be fine. I’m not in any danger, Oliver.”
He shakes his head, rubbing his hand across his jaw in a frustrated fashion. “But you obviously are, Romera. You just can’t accept it yet.”
My phone begins to ring; it rang at least eight times on the way over here but the EMTs wouldn’t let me answer until they’d finished checking me out. I collect my purse and rifle amidst the tiny square cubes of windshield glass that have found their way inside. My cell seems to have survived the crash in one piece. I was hoping for Zeth, but the single letter on the screen is an M instead of a Z.
“I have to take this, Ol.”
Oliver rolls his eyes, sighing. “Just…the moment you realize that you’re in way over your head, come see me, okay? Don’t leave it too late.” He gives me one last unhappy look, and then he turns and walks away.
I don’t waste any time; I hit answer. “Hello?”
“Where are you?” It’s Michael. The sound of his voice is a relief, but then I register the clipped tone and panic sets in again.
“What’s going on, Michael? Someone just tried to run me off the road. I nearly died!”
The line is silent for a moment, as though the man on the other end of the phone wasn’t expecting this news and it’s complicated matters. “Are you okay?” he eventually asks.
“Yes, I’m fine. I’m fine. I didn’t hear from Zeth, so I was on my way to the hospital. My car’s a write-off, though. Where the hell is your employer?”
“He’s been hurt. He needed a doctor. I tried to get ahold of you but no one answered.”
It feels like my heart stops dead in my chest. “What do you mean, hurt?”
“I mean stabbed in the abdomen. Where are you?”
A feeling overcomes me that I’ve never experienced before. I felt something like it the day Lexi went missing, but it was nowhere near as intense as this. A panic, mixed in with a falling, nauseous, paralyzed feeling gripping hold of my senses. Zeth’s hurt. He’s…he’s been stabbed? Oh my god. Was that why he didn’t come for me? How bad is it? Where is he? But I don’t have time to ask these questions. I can’t. I just have to get to him. “I’m at St. Peter’s.”
“Thank god. We need blood. Can you get it?”
My mind feels like it’s firing blanks. Can I get blood? Can I get blood? The answer to that is simple, but it raises a hundred more questions. Will I get caught taking the blood? Are there cameras in the corridor outside the blood bank? Will I get to Zeth in time to administer it?
“Sloane? Sloane!”
“Uh…yes, sorry. What’s his blood type?”
“I don’t know.”
That’s just throwing another variable into the mix. Will I even be able to get type O negative? I suppose I’ll just have to hope for the best. “Okay. Alright, I’ll sort something out. Come and get me.”
Michael exhales down the phone. “Good. I’m already on my way. And Sloane, there’s one other thing.”
One more thing? I don’t think I can cope with one more thing. One more thing is probably going to be enough to break me. I can tell by the serious note in Michael’s voice that this is important, though. I hold my breath. “What is it?”
“Charlie knows where your parents live. He went there, dropped your father’s car off. But don’t worry. I have two guys watching them at all times. They’re okay. They’re safe.”
******
I call my mom while I’m stealing blood. I can’t…I just can’t believe it. Charlie was there, at their house. Drinking my mom’s stupid Lady Grey tea. The thought is so terrifying that I’m contemplating jumping on a plane and heading straight back there, just to see with my own two eyes that they’re fine. It feels like I can’t fucking breathe. I still feel that way, even after I hear my mom’s voice and she starts wittering on about the early Christmas party they’re holding at Dad’s hospital.
“It’s only halfway through November. What’s wrong with having a Christmas party at Christmas? That’s what I want to know. Sloane? Sloane, are you there?”
I grab a second bag of O neg from the fridge and stuff it into my purse, trying to think through the crippling headache that’s pounding at my temples. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here, Mom.”
“Well, your father’s home now, so I’d better get dinner started. Have you heard anything more from Alexis? Has she said when she’ll be coming home?”
“Can you see Dad?” I ask, my heart beating hard in my chest.
“What do you mean?”
“Can you actually see him? Is he standing right in front of you?”
“No…not right in front of me, he’s just walking through the door. Now he’s in front of me. Al, talk to your daughter. I can’t get any sense out of her.”