Page 44 of Parrish

Chapter Seventeen

Jack Parrish

I didn’t wait for Wolf to give me the details. After he mentioned that Nico was following the ambulance carrying my wife and son to Methodist Hospital, I took to my bike. They tried to argue with me, telling me I was in no condition to ride. They even tried to manhandle me into the cage but to no avail, I left them holding their dicks in the cemetery. The need to be with my family pulsed through me as I envisioned the worst.

I couldn’t bury another child and I certainly didn’t want to think about losing Reina either.

Guilt poured from every orifice of my being as I recalled the argument we had and the tears she cried as I walked out the door. I shouldn’t have changed plans. I should’ve taken Danny to school with her like I promised. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened and if it did—well, then at least we would be together. I’d be suffering along with them, fighting for my life. Instead, I’m the one left folding his hands in prayer, praying to a God who has thrown me to the Devil.

Arriving at the hospital, I haphazardly park my bike in a no-parking zone and run towards the automatic doors. I like to think not much scares me but as I enter the busy emergency room, I can’t help but fear what I’m going to find. Still, I frantically burst through the triage center. Like the madman I am, I ignore the nurse and security guard who foolishly try to stop me and pull back curtain after curtain.

“Danny! Reina!”

“Sir—”

“Get your fucking hands off me,” I sneer, slamming the security guard against the wall. Before someone else decides to put their fucking hands where they don’t belong, I stalk down the corridor.

“Danny! Reina!”

I continue to rip the curtains back and with every patient I discover that isn’t my wife or son, I feel more helpless. My maker starts to feed me poison and I start picturing them lying on a metal slab in the morgue.

My beautiful wife, pale and cold.

My innocent son, sleeping with the angels.

“Sir, are you the father of the little boy who was in the accident?”

At the sound of the feminine voice, I turn my head and realize I’m standing in the middle of the triage unit sobbing, begging for someone to help me find my son. For God to spare him and take me.

The nurse takes my hand and gives it a squeeze.

“He’s okay,” she says.

“Say it again,” I beg.

“Your son is okay.”

Relief slices through me and I close my eyes as I squeeze her hand, silently thanking her.

“Please take me to him,” I say, blinking and focusing back on the young nurse. Releasing my hand, she nods and begins leading me down the corridor.

“He has a few cuts and bruises but more than anything he’s scared. He keeps asking for his—”

“Daddy!” Danny half sobs, half shouts as he scrambles off the stretcher and runs to me. The rest of the nurse’s sentence dies on her tongue as I swoop my boy into my arms. Squeezing him with all my might, I pull back a second later and inspect his face for injuries. There’s a gash above his left eye and a nasty knot is forming on his forehead. Aside from that, the nurse appears to be right.

“Where’s my mommy? She wasn’t in the car anymore.”

Narrowing my eyes, I set Danny on his feet and turn to the nurse, hoping she can give me some insight into Reina’s condition. My eyes drift over her shoulder and I spot Nico striding down the corridor with his arms full of chips, candy and ice cream.

Fucking ice cream.

Pushing the nurse out of my way, I lose my cool and charge for the fucking kid, my own words ringing in my ears with every step I take, reminding me of the instructions I gave him and the oath he took, promising me he’d keep them safe. Forgetting my son is terrified, I morph into a monster and grab Nico by his leather vest. The junk food flies out of his hands and I slam him against the nurses’ station.

“You son of a bitch! You were supposed to fucking keep them safe,” I shout, lifting him off the nurses’ station and throwing him against the neighboring wall. Pressing my forearm against his throat, I glare at him with vengeance. However, I’m not nearly as angry with the pissant as I am with myself. In all actuality, Reina and Danny weren’t Nico’s responsibility. They were mine, and I discarded them like they were nothing.

“Where is Reina?”

“I don’t know,” he stammers.

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