Page 120 of Rules

Inside, I scan the space until I see the sign for the elevators. A while ago, Dad texted that Jeanette’s been admitted to trauma ICU, which is on the fourth floor.

As always, the elevator takes its sweet-ass time, driving me crazy. I look around a few times, my foot tapping against the floor nervously, but I don’t see Andrew.

Where the hell did he disappear to? I was seconds behind him.

Finally, the elevator dings open. I can barely wait for everybody to get out before I push inside, pressing the button for the fourth floor.

If it’s possible, it takes even longer to get to the ICU, the elevator stopping on every fucking floor. The people drag in and out like they’re on a picnic, making me want to scream in frustration.

Gritting my teeth, I watch the floor numbers rise, and when that irritating ding rings and the door slides open, I dash out without a backward glance.

“Sir, you can’t…” I can hear somebody yell down the hallway. “Sir!”

I turn around in the direction of the voice, and as if on cue, I can see Andrew’s back disappearing around the corner, a short nurse running after him. When she realizes she won’t catch him, she turns around to the other nurse sitting at the station. “Call security.”

Shit.

“There is no need for that,” I interrupt as I come closer.

They both take me in with weary eyes. Not that I can blame them; I’m sure that I look a mess and Andrew… well, he looks like he just got out of a bar fight and lost.

“And you are?” the older one asks.

“Maximillian Sanders. We’re here to see Jeanette Sanders. She was admitted earlier this evening.”

She still doesn’t believe me—I’m not sure whether to be frustrated or impressed—because she asks, “I’ll have to see an ID, young man.”

Groaning, I pull my wallet out of my back pocket, and slide out my ID, shoving it in her face. “See?”Happy now you old bat?is what I really want to ask, but somehow I hold it in. “Can I go and see my sister now?”

She gives me my ID back, clearly not happy. “She’s in the last room down the hall. Family only.”

I guess that last part refers to Andrew.

“He’s family,” I grit out. No way in hell am I letting this old hag throw him out. Not if there is a possibility Jeanette might need him when she wakes up. She’s the only one who matters in this whole situation. The only one who can decide who stays and who leaves. And if she doesn’t want Andrew, I’ll throw him out myself.

Not waiting for her answer, I turn on the balls of my feet and stalk away. I run down the hall, not caring about disturbing other patients. My breaths are frantic, heart beating rapidly in tune with my sneakers stomping against the tiles.

The door is left ajar, and I can hear soft murmurs coming from inside. I stop in my tracks just as I reach the doorway.

“Are they okay?”

My eyes land on her small body sprawled on the white, too-big-for-her-slender-frame, clinical bed. I inhale loudly, the smell of antiseptic and sickness entering my lungs.

“Anette,” I choke out, moving closer. Tears burn in my eyes. I have to blink a few times before I somewhat clear my vision enough to decipher the lines of her face. But what I see makes me choke up even more.

I lift my hand, wanting to touch her, but not daring. She’s so patched up, I’m afraid even the lightest of touches will bring her pain.

Her hair is a mess, dried blood glistening on the short strands under the fluorescent light. Her face is a palette of colors; different shades of purple and red color her skin in way of scrapes and bruises, and what’s not damaged is ashen white. They put a collar around her neck that prevents her from moving her head and possibly causing further injuries while one of her arms is in a cast and strapped over her chest for support.

She looks broken and bruised, and I have never felt more helpless in my life.

I curl my hand around the railing of the bed to stop myself from touching her.

“What…” I stop, unable to hold it in. Rubbing my hand over my face, I wipe the moisture clouding my eyesight.

You need to calm the fuck down. She needs you.

My lungs expand as I take in one shaky breath.“Is she…”

---