“Leaving my mom’s to come pick you up.”
My stomach drops. “Why? What’s going on, Harlow? I don’t—“
“Mitch,” she sobs. “Mitch and Gus… Mac… Jesus, Sofie, how do you not know?”
“Know what?! No one has told me anything, I haven’t even talked to anyone in hours. Tell me what happened, please.” I toss my book on my coffee table and rush up the stairs to my bedroom to grab my purse. “What happened, babe? Are you sure you should be driving?”
“I’m fine.”
“Harlow…”
“Really.” She sniffles, clears her throat and I can almost see her straightening her spine. “I’m good to drive, you just have to take over when I get there.”
“Ok, sure. No problem. I got you—“
“Scratch that. You’ll drive like a grandma and we don’t have that kind of time.”
I frown as I run back down the stairs. “I don’t drive like a grandma.”
“You do. Seriously. Normally I wouldn’t care, but we have to get to Sabine General ASAP.”
My heart seizes in my chest, I stop moving and try to take a breath.
Sabine General?
Oh god… oh no…
“Sofie?”
“I’m here, babe.” I shake my head and start looking for my hospital ID. “And I’m bringing my creds. Do you have yours?”
“Hell yes I do. And if those fuckers even try to stop me from seeing every single member of the Kings down there, I will start handing out lobotomies like they aren’t illegal as fuck.”
“I’m with you.” Even though I haven’t seen any of them in years and the only King I have seen recently was the one that used to be mine and… my blood turns to ice. “Harlow… oh god, honey, please tell me what’s going on. Do you know—“
“I don’t know what happened, and I haven’t heard much of anything, but Breaker was the one who called me and shit isn’t good.” My best friend curses as she hits a pothole and I hear her burning rubber up my driveway. “Everyone is up there, Sof.Everyone.”
Sammy.
* * *
Forty-five minutesand the car ride from hell later, Harlow and I are running through emergency at Sabine General, both of us in ratty hoodies and sweats from my closet because my best friend left in such a rush she forgot to put on something more than a sports bra and shorts. We’re both tear-stained and puffy-eyed, frantic and probably a little crazy looking, but everyone knows us here and for the most part they’re staying out of our way.
“Mitchell Gentry,” Harlow grunts as she crashes into the nurses station. “I need to know where you’re keeping him.”
Nurse Bucket—who we both know from hanging out up here with her mom when we were kids—smiles warmly, then leans toward us and says, “Come again, dear?”
And my best friend turns all the shades of red. “Oh my fucking god, woman! Turn up your goddamn—“
“Mitchell Gentry.” I lean forward and yell. “We need his room number.”
A few keystrokes later and the ancient nurse, who really does need to retire, jots down Marbles’ info and slides it across the counter.
“ICU…” Harlow chokes down a sob. “Sof, I…”
“Go, babe. Go. I’ll find out where everyone else is and come check on you after.”
She shoots me a grateful smile as a few tears roll down her cheeks, then she takes off toward the elevators.
