Page 157 of The First Taste
She puffs out her cheeks and puts her hands on her hips, nodding as she walks across the room. “Yeah.”
We drill the same combination about ten more times. “Good. Again.”
As I walk over and check my phone, I see twenty missed calls, from Lucas and from another number that I don’t recognize. As I’m scrolling through my texts from Lucas, I see this.
Anita had a bad fall. They are taking her to Memorial Hospital with a suspected fractured hip and a possible concussion. Call me.
And then,where the fuck are you, Calum?
“Fuck,” I say, glowering at my phone.
“What?” Kaia calls.
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it. I have to go,” I say, not even looking at her.
I have to take control of this situation or Anita is going to have Lucas eating out of the palm of her hand soon enough. Not even glancing back, I grab my water bottle and start calling my limousine driver.
Calum
Iride the elevator upstairs to the twelfth floor of Memorial Hospital, brooding as the floors tick by. The doors open to reveal a white block that serves as a desk and runs to my right and to my left.
I step out and stalk to the desk, looking over the nurses who are doing paperwork. “1217?”
One of the nurses looks at me, her eyes narrowing. “Are you family?”
My lips curl up in a sneer. I’m certainly not a blood relative, but Lucas and I are all that Anita has. She’s driven away everyone else.
“She wants to see me,” I say. I can see the door on the right side of the hall, labeled 1201. Starting toward it, I flap a hand at the nurse. “I got it.”
“Sir?” Another nurse calls after me. “Sir, you need to check in?—“
Picking up the pace, I turn the corner and walk down the eerily quiet hall. Everything but the doors is white; the doors are antiseptic seafood green, most closed for privacy. Here and there, placed at staggered intervals, are odd numbered doors.
1213… 1215… 1217.
I find the door, turning and facing it. The same nurse has followed me down the hall, her expression uncertain.
I realize my heart is thumping in my chest as I suck in a deep breath. Before I can make a move to open the door, it swings open wide. I see my brother’s dark hair first as he turns from saying something to the room’s occupant.
“I’ll get—“ Lucas sees me and his eyebrows rise. “You’re here.”
I squint at him. “I am,” I agree. “You said it was an emergency.”
He moves forward, closing the door behind himself and puffing out his cheeks. “Yeah.” He checks the hallway, waving to the nurse. “Hey, can you call Dr. Stein? She is complaining that the pain medication is making her nauseated. We need to try another one.”
The nurse slows, looking between us. It takes too long for Lucas, who pulls out his phone. “I’m going to call the head of medicine. What’s your name again? I want to make sure I get it right.”
She swallows. “Sandra! I’m Sandra. And… no need to call Dr. Baker again. I’ll call Dr. Stein right now.”
She hurries away, her thick soled shoes squeaking on the floor. I arch a brow.
“How many times have you called Dr. Baker already?”
He shrugs a shoulder. “For what we pay in charitable donations, I’ll call Dr. Baker every ten minutes until Anita is out of the hospital.”
I take a deep breath. “What happened?”
“She said she fell getting out of the shower.” He screws up his face. “She hit her head pretty hard and bruised her left hip.”
