Brynne helplessly falls into my arms after whispering something I can't understand.
Something having to do with love?
The light weight of her body feels scary as I pick her up.
"HELP!" I yell for someone.
Stepping on the red roses, I rush out of Brynne's room, holding her tightly against my chest. The flowers crumple underneath my feet while I sprint across the hardwood floor.
My steps are quick and nimble while I make my way down the stairs at lightning speed, gripping her legs and shoulders closer to my body. Her spastic breathing pulsating on my neck causes me to hurry. She mumbles something incoherent, and I respond to her constraints,
"It's going to be okay, baby. I'm right here," I whisper into her ear.
She has cancer. Brynne has cancer.
How naïve could I have been not to see what was right in front of me? She's been sick for the past three months, and I dragged her along, knowing I was putting her in danger. But my temptation got the best of me, and I risked her life numerous times.
It's all my fault.
My soul crushes the longer I think about Brynne fighting this awful disease on her own. The thought of her alone and scared in a hospital bed sends pain into my heart.
Running down the stairs, I almost trip over a piece of paper, causing me to lose my speed.
"HELP!" I scream in desperation.
Footsteps near the staircase as I place Brynne down on the bare floor. The coloring of her face is flushed, and her breaths come every ten seconds or so. Placing my index and middle finger on her wrist, I search for a pulse while listening to her faint breathing.
It's there, I sigh.
It's faint, but it's there.
Mr. Foster comes into the room with a worried look on his face. He immediately rushes over to where I have laid her and pulls out his phone to call 911. His hand instinctively begins to tap her cheek and yell her name repeatedly.
My mind drowns out his loud voice as I stare at Brynne's lifeless body.
This isn't the first time I've seen her in this state.
When I found her in that dark room at the Spanish Mafia base, she was on the brink of death. Leaving that place, I almost thought she wasn't going to make it. Coming so close to losing her made me realize how much I truly care about her. I can't lose her.
Her soft cheeks and cute nose rest on her beautifully perfect skin. She is my dream girl, nothing less and everything more.
And she's sick.
"BLAKE! GO GET RACHEL, RIGHT NOW," Mr. Foster practically yells in my face. Swiftly wiping the tears from my warm cheeks, I return to reality.
I scramble to my feet, tripping over my long legs. Racing towards the kitchen, I unintentionally move multiple carpets along the way.
Sure enough, Miss Foster is standing in the kitchen with her earbuds. She is humming along to what seems to be an 80's song while putting away the dishes.
Her eyes immediately dart in my direction as I run into the kitchen.
"Blake?" She questions confusedly.
"It's Brynne," I pant, "She fainted."
We both sprint towards the living room as fast as our feet will take us and meet Mr. Foster sitting with Brynne near the staircase.
I notice her legs have started uncontrollably shaking and her arms spastically moving. Foaming at the mouth, she chokes on her spit while her eyes roll into the back of her head.
She's having a seizure.
Her dad shakes her biceps in an attempt to wake her up. Rushing to the floor, I instantly turn her to the side and order Mr. Foster to take his hands off of her body.
"We just need to wait this out," I painfully explain while watching Brynne suffer.
I rack my brain for symptoms of leukemia and realize that seizures are not listed. With all my training at the hospital, seizures have never even correlated with any cancer.
Her fingers clench, and her face takes a constrained expression. She's in pain.
"What's going on?" A clang of metal against the floor alarms all three of us huddled around Brynne. Grant stands in the doorframe with oil on his face, hands, and shirt. I notice the dirty wrench on the floor. His eyebrows scrunch as he realizes what is going on.
He slowly walks over as anger takes over his face.
"You," He points towards me as I stand to meet his fiery gaze. "What did you do?"
"What?" I implore, "You think I did this?"
He storms to where I am standing, revealing our slight height difference. Despite our once levelness in height, I am now clearly a couple of inches taller than him. This feat doesn't seem to scare Grant in the slightest. His jaw clenches and the tan skin on his face tightens.
"I left her alone with you for five minutes, and this is what happens?" He breathes into my face as his voice breaks.
He doesn't mean it.
"Why didn't you tell me she had cancer?" I burst. My hands grip the sides of my neck as I look up towards the ceiling. "As her brother, it's your job to protect her. Why hasn't she started chemotherapy?"
These words seem to send him over the edge because he snarls and launches himself towards me, sending us both flying into the wall. I pin his wrists onto the floor, and he kicks me in the balls. I cradle my groin before sending a hard punch to his left side. A heavy force meets the right side of my lip and splits it open.
Before any more damage is inflicted, Mr. Foster pulls Grant off of me and throws him to the other side of the room.
"JUST STOP IT!" Rachel pleads.
Grant snarls in my direction as he heads over to Brynne to see if she's okay.
I look at her, only to notice that she is still shaking uncontrollably and clenching her fists. A small whimper comes from her mouth, and I break inside. I wish that there was something that I could do for her.
Grant lifts her head and places it in his lap. His silent coos and whispers of encouragement seem to calm her down. As he brushes her hair out of her pale face, Grant wipes the redundant tears from her cheek.
"Shhh, it's going to be okay," He explains, "We're all here for you."
As I get up, the doors burst open, and paramedics rush to Brynne. They do a quick patient analysis and immediately lift her onto the stretcher. Her once violent shaking has now calmed down and turned into spastic movements. They clip the straps across her body to secure her and roll her out of the house.
Miss Foster follows them into the ambulance, and the rest of us pile into Grant's car, silent as we follow the ambulance to the Richmond state-of-the-art hospital. Grant steps on the gas as he loses the ambulance from a sharp corner turn, causing me to hit my head against the window. The two guys in the front of the car both curse as Grant speeds towards the siren-filled car.
We near the hospital, and the ambulance turns into the emergency loop.
"You boys go follow her, and I will park the car," Mr. Foster eagerly voices as he opens the door to his side and runs to the driver's seat. Grant and I do not waste any time before racing in after Brynne's stretcher. We run after her at lightning speed. My legs soar through the air as I turn each corner of the maze hospital.
Grant seems to know his way around the hospital from his quick instincts and fast footwork. He leads me down hallways until we reach a loud room.
"Turn on the defibrillator!"
That can't be good.
Grant and I rush into the room filled with doctors and nurses. The machines attached to Brynne almost drown her in a sea of wires and screens. She lays lifeless on that cursed hospital bed as she is shocked back to life.
"Clear the patient!" The lady in charge announces.
She is not just a patient; she's my Brynne. She is so much more than just another person in this huge hospital.
The paddles are placed on Brynne's rib cage as they send an electric pulse throughout her tiny body. She jerks at the power and then retraces to her once lifeless state.
No.
"Again!" I yell while fighting back tears.
The doctor obediently places the paddles in the same spots and sends another electric pulse into Brynne's body. No response.
"Again!" I hear Grant scream from beside me. His father has found his way into the room and is shocked by what is happening.
The doctor sighs and places the paddles on Brynne once again. "Charge to 500."
Brynne immediately jerks up, hyperventilating and rejecting the tube that they have stuck down her throat. She chokes so hard until red liquid rushes from her mouth.
My feet are frozen as her family rushes toward her. They all hug her and kiss her repeatedly while I sit in the corner watching. Seeing her alive is enough for me to be happy about. Luckily, the spurring of blood eventually stops, and the nurses can remove the endotracheal tube. She coughs as the long object is pulled from her body.
Calmness takes over the room after a few minutes of consolidation. Brynne insists that she is perfectly fine and just needs some rest.
I am planted in the same spot, watching her from a distance. Our eyes have shared a couple of glances, but we have both instantly looked away.
As her family leaves the room to give her some time to rest, I begin to follow until a frail voice stops me.
"Blake?" She whispers through a sore throat.
I stop in my tracks.
"Yes?" I turn around to face her. She fiddles with her fingers, and I walk closer to her bed.
"I'm sorry," She rasps, "I'm sorry for not telling you about my cancer."
I shake my head as I pull a chair to her bedside.
"It's fine," I falter, "I'm just glad that you are okay,"
She continues to mess with the wires of her machinery while she presses her eyes shut. She looks to be in pain from some sort of headache, so I grab ahold of her anxious hands.
"Are you?" I ask, "Okay?"
"I'm fine," She smiles painfully through her teeth.
"You don't have to lie to me, Brynne."
Her eyes relax, and she settles into the bed.
"My head hurts," She whispers, "And I have a pain in my neck,"
I rub her arm as she shudders from the feeling of blankets crawling up her cold and slender body.
"Is there anything I can do?" I appeal.
"Just stay with me."
She scoots to the edge of the hospital bed and taps on the space next to her. I'm reluctant to get close to her for fear of somehow hurting her fragile body.
The IVs connected to her arms flow with medicine that is possibly keeping her alive.
What if I block the flow of antibiotics? What if I accidentally touch the bruises on her battered body? What if she faints, and I've fallen asleep?
"What are you waiting for?" She croaks, "Come here."
Hesitantly, I lay next to her and wrap my arm around her head. She snuggles into my chest and places her leg on my waist. Slowly, I rub her back and kiss the top of her head. I feel her beginning to fall asleep in my embrace, and it sends a warm feeling throughout my body.
She trusts me enough to fall asleep in my arms. She trusts me even after all of the things that I've put her through.
She trusts me, but she doesn't love me.
For some reason, those three words are extremely difficult for her to say. Maybe it's cancer that's holding her back, or maybe it's her fear of commitment.
All I know is that I feel so much love for her.
Her chest rises and falls as she presses against my abs and chest. At this moment, every small thing in my life has become irrelevant. All I care about is Brynne and keeping her alive.
My phone buzzes from the back pocket of my black joggers, and I curse under my breath. Looking over to Brynne, I confirm that she is asleep and bring the phone close to my ear.
"Hello?" I answer annoyingly.
"Hello, sir," Antonio bursts through the phone.
"Spit it out, Antonio. I don't have all day."
"Well, our scouts have spotted something peculiar while roving near the Spanish Mafia Base," He admits.
"Get on with it," I sharply respond while playing with Brynne's golden locks.
"They say that they have spotted your father, sir. The Spanish were leading him into a transportation van along with other prisoners," Antonio breathes.
My heart drops into my stomach.
My father?
He's been gone for ten years. Everyone thought he was dead, and even I started to believe it. There's no way, I think to myself.
Brynne lifts her head to my face.
"Who's that?" She tiredly questions.
"No one," I immediately respond.
She slowly begins to fall back asleep as I hang up on Antonio. Right now, I need to focus on Brynne.
But, I can't help but wonder;
Will my father want to hug me because of how long it's been?
Or will he want to kill me once he figures out what has become of his dynasty?