“Uh, thanks for the ride. Sorry I had a few calls to make.” I glance at Ella, actually seeing her this time. “I remember you.”
Her startled eyes swing quickly from the road to me and then back.
“You do?”
“From the set of Luke’s video. You took off Kai’s robe.”
“Don’t hold that against me.” She flashes me a small smile. “You were pretty pissed that day.”
We’d just gotten together. My father was in the hospital, but I couldn’t stay away from Luke’s set. I had to see my girl, only to find her half naked for Luke’s video. Man, I was angry that day, and so was she. Things felt so complex then, but compared to our life now, it was child’s play.
“You’ve been sending the mistletoe, right?” Ella’s eyes don’t leave the road.
I watch her profile cautiously. Only Kai and I know about that. I don’t want to give too much away.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“The mistletoe that came to her dressing room before every show.” She shrugs. “I did her makeup, so I’d see. It always made her smile.”
I smile naturally, just the smallest bit, since Kai’s collapse.
“Her grandfather kept mistletoe in the house all year so he could kiss Kai’s grandmother all the time.”
“That’s really sweet.” Ella steals another quick glance. “You, um, you really love her, huh?”
The short answer would be yes, but that’s a pitiful Cliffs Notes to an epic story. If I go into what Kai means to me when I don’t even know for sure she’s okay yet, I’ll lose it, so I give her the simple truth anyone with eyes could see.
“I love her more than everything.”
Ella swings a surprised look my way, eyes wide. I remember her saying before that she was a fan of my music. She had tickets to one of my shows. I can’t be a celebrity right now. I don’t give a damn that she loves my music or about any preconceived notions she may hold. I’m just raw and wide open and grateful that she’s taking me to Kai.
“Thanks again, Ella, for driving. I was blocks away. It would have taken me a lot longer.”
“I wish I had pressed her more about that cold.”
“So do I. She’s been coughing for weeks, but she kept saying it was just a cold and that it was okay.”
“Yeah, but she had a fever tonight.”
“What?” I try to soften my tone, but the thought of her going on tonight sick angers the hell out of me. “Why didn’t she pull out?”
“If you love Kai as much as you say you do, then I’m sure you know she’d never do that.”
I clench my fists. “Malcolm pushed her too hard on this tour.”
“You’re certainly right about that.” There’s a wry twist to Ella’s mouth.
We pull to a stop in front of Cedars Sinai emergency entrance before I get to ask her more questions.
“I’ll park,” Ella says. “You get on in there.”
I’m out of the car and slamming the door almost before she’s completely stopped. I knew there might be some press, but I didn’t anticipate the knot of reporters clustered at the entrance, armed with questions I don’t even dignify with a response.
“Rhyson, are you here to see Kai?”
“Are you two back together?”
“What can you tell us about what happened tonight?”
Each question skids across my nerves like pebbles over a pond, disturbing the surface but not sinking in. I pull my Dodgers cap down lower and rush through the door, bracing my heart for whatever lies on the other side.
“I AM HER NEXT OF KIN,” I growl at the battle axe nurse blocking me. “Tell me where the hell she is or I will go to every room in this fucking hospital until I find her.”
“Our policy—”
“I don’t care about your damn policy.” I slam my hand onto the front desk. “Her only family isn’t here. I’m her . . . we’re . . . I have to see her.”
“Yes, Mr. Gray.” The nurse blinks furiously. “But I can’t give you that information. You’re not next of kin, and I—”
I’m about to hurl her little clipboard when a hand on my shoulder stops me.
“Rhys,” San says from behind me. “Calm down. Come on back.”
He looks at the pale-faced nurse.
“He’s with me.”
I jerk away from him.
“I’m not with you,” I snap, galled that he got to her and I couldn’t. “Where is she?”
“This way.” San starts walking down the hall, but my feet adhere to the floor, paralyzed with the emotion I’ve stuffed under the anger and frustration of getting here, of getting to her.
“Is she . . .” I clear my throat, fists balled at my sides. “Is she okay? Is she gonna be okay?”
He stops and looks over his shoulder, his face giving away nothing.
“I think so. The doctor’s with her now. They ran some tests.” San starts forward again, and I follow, the fear abating some. “We should know something soon.”
“Aunt Ruthie?” I keep pace with him, but my mind races ahead. “You called her?”
“Yeah, she’s figuring out a flight now.”
“Figuring out a flight? No.” I frown, pulling my phone from my pocket. “I’ll get Bristol to arrange a private flight. She needs to get here as quickly as possible, and I don’t want her worrying about how she’ll pay for it.”
“That’d be great,” San says. “I really appreciate that, man.”