Page 70 of His to Have
“But it doesn’t make any sense. I thought weddings and funerals were neutral territory.”
“They are.” Teo’s jaw ticked. “You know who wasn’t targeted? Our family. This was an act of war and strategic as hell. Someone just put a target on our back.”
Just then we pulled into the hospital emergency room, filing out of the vehicle and into the waiting area. My mother sat near the vending machine barely holding on. Her eyes were red and puffy, clearly from crying, and she clutched a tissue in her hand as if it were a lifeline. She looked small and weak. It wasn’t like her. She was never those things... never even resembled the woman who sat there now.
Bash and his shooters surrounded her. No one would dare approach her without going through them first. They all looked menacing, their expressions hard as we approached.
“Mrs. Donatelli,” one of them greeted me as I made my way to my mother. Both Teo and I stepped into the cocoon of protection they had formed around her.
“Mama,” I whispered, kneeling beside her as her glassy eyes lifted to meet mine. She looked exhausted. I swallowed hard, pushing past my own emotions. Wrapping my arms around her, her body sank into me immediately.
“He’s gonna make it Mama. He is strong.” I rocked her back and forth trying to be strong for her, embracing the way she clung to me. One of us had to hold it together. We both couldn’t afford to fall apart right now.
“I know baby,” she whispered against my shoulder, her body still trembling at the thought of losing the only love and protector of her life.
I closed my eyes, willing my own tears away.
When I pulled back, she cupped my face like she did only hours ago, her motherly touch soothing the terrible feeling I couldn’t seem to get rid of in the pit of my stomach.
“How are you doing?” She patted my arm, and gestured for me to take a seat next to her.
I nodded. “I’m okay, Mama. I promise.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. She knew better but wouldn’t argue, understanding that we both needed to maintain a facade of strength for the sake of the family.
A second later, a different set of strong arms pulled me into an embrace. Bash’s hold was firm, and reassuring. His chin settled at the top of my head. He was quiet, but I knew this was his way of dealing with his mentor and father being hospitalized. It wasn’t personal. His unspoken words spoke volumes.
Bash finally released me, his grip lingering for just a second longer before he stepped back. “I’m about to go holler at Teo. Sit here with Mama,” he muttered, his eyes flicking toward where my husband stood.
I nodded, watching him walk off, leaving just me and my mother in the thick of it.
The waiting room wasn’t crowded, but it didn’t make the wait feel like an eternity. Each time the double doors to the back of the hospital opened, I found my mother holding her breath, waiting for the ball to drop. I grabbed her hand, hoping to soothe her frayed nerves, then proceeded to watch the nurses, doctors, and hospital admin move swiftly through the corridors. Every so often a nurse would come out and call a different patient to the back, and each time my mother would release a small sigh of disappointment. While she tried to stay composed, I tried to drown out the sterile smell of the waiting area, as well as the faint beeping of equipment. But it was a struggle.
Finally, she broke the silence. “They haven’t told us anything yet. Hope no news is good news.”
“Me too, Mama... me too.” I said softly leaning my head on her shoulders.
After waiting for another thirty minutes the double doors swung open. This time, a tall black man in a white coat stepped through. He tried to hide his expression, but the grimness of it was noticeable, making my mother tense almost immediately. Bash’s back straightened, and Teo took his place by my side as we watched the man approach.
“Reed family?”
The words barely registered. But I felt my mother stand, and I followed, my legs moving on autopilot.
“I’m Dr. Torres,” he introduced himself, removing the medical cap from his head. His eyes were compassionate, yet serious, and I could sense the weight of his next words. “I’m here to discuss Mr. Reed’s condition,” he said gently, glancing at each of us as we prepared ourselves for what he had to say.
“The toxicity levels in Mr. Reed’s blood indicate prolonged exposure to a lethal substance. The damage is severe, and rightnow, he’s in critical condition,” he continued, his voice filled with urgency. “We have him on life support, but his organs are deteriorating faster than we can intervene. His body is shutting down.”
My mother clutched my hand tighter as she nodded, trying to remain strong for the both of us. I didn’t think she even realized how tightly she gripped me or how her nails dug into my skin.
“There’s a high risk of complete organ failure,” Dr. Torres added. “His kidneys are barely functioning. His lungs are compromised. His heart is under extreme stress. The next few hours are critical.”
The doctor kept talking, listing a slew of other complications — sepsis, respiratory failure, neurological damage—but I couldn’t process anything beyond organ failure and death. It was like a loud bell rang inside my head, muting everything except for the most jarring pieces.
My mother’s face was ashen with fear, her eyes brimming with tears that threatened to spill over. Bash stood stoically, his features hardened, as if he were trying to shield himself from the reality of the situation. While Teo found a way to offer some comfort by wrapping an arm around my shoulder, and pulling me into his broad frame.
Dr. Torres’s voice faded into the background as we stood there, grappling with the harsh reality that our world was teetering on the brink of irreparable loss.
All we could do now was play the waiting game and pray for the best.
