Page 92 of Red Card


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I’ll never forget the raw panic that flashes in his eyes. They go hazy for a moment as he lifts the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

His voice shakes, and it nearly kills me.

I can’t hear what’s happening, but I watch as his throat bobs, and he nods. The entire call lasts only a minute, if that, and then he pulls it from his ear.

“I have to go,” he mumbles blankly.

“I’m coming with you.”

It feels like he hardly registers my response as he brushes past me into my bedroom.

Less than thirty minutes later we burst through the doors of the emergency room, making a beeline for the front reception desk.

“Hi, my sister has been admitted. Her name’s Aisling Cairney?”

The older man wearing dark scrubs nods. “Give me just a moment, please.”

Cillian’s frustration feels palpable with each second that passes as the nurse types away on the computer so slowly that even I start to get antsy.

“Sir, please, I’m very worried about my sister, can you please just tell me where I need to go?” Cillian says exasperatedly as he reaches up to run his fingers through his hair, his tone heavy with panic and worry.

Because I can’t last another second without touching him, I grab his hand, lacing my fingers in his and squeezing reassuringly.

I don’t care if someone sees.

I don’t even care if mydadwalked through that entrance right now.

Cillian needs me. And I need him to know that he’s not alone.

“I’m trying, son, please give me just a moment,” the surly nurse responds, and I squeeze Cillian’s hand again, trying to offer any comfort I can.

Finally, the man looks up from his computer, takes Cillian’s and my IDs, and tells him that she’s on the second floor, room 293.

Thank God.

We take the elevator to the second floor, and Cillian bursts through the minute the doors open, dragging me behind him. The kind lady at the nurses’ station points us in the right direction, and we easily find Aisling’s room.

When we walk through the door, she’s sitting upright in bed, wearing a pale blue hospital gown and a small frown. Compared to the size of the bed, she looks tiny sitting in the middle of it.

“Ais,” Cillian says, his voice breaking on her name. “Are you okay? What happened?”

He strides over to her in two large steps, eyes running over every inch of her body looking for visible signs that she’s hurt.

She nods. “Yes. I’m one hundred percent okay.”

“You’re in the hospital, Aisling. That’snotokay,” he deadpans.

“My insulin monitor must have glitched. My sugar dropped, and I fainted. I bumped my head against the table at the library, and the guy that witnessed it insisted that they call an ambulance. He actually um… rode with me here, so I didn’t have to ride by myself. It was just a slight overreaction. I’mfine.” Her sigh is heavy, her small frame shaking with the movement. It causes her glasses to slip down her nose. She pushes them back up before adding, “I mean it was the most embarrassing moment of my life having to be taken away in a freakin’ ambulance, but other than being humiliated, I’m good.”

Cillian curses as he reaches up and drags his hand down his face, shaking his head. “I was so fucking scared, Aisling. I—” Ican tell how badly he’s fighting for his composure, and I have to physically stop myself from reaching for him.

It’s the worst feeling in the world when you care about someone and they’re hurting, and there’s nothing you can do about it. I feel helpless.

Aisling’s expression softens as she gazes at her brother. She pats the bed next to her, beckoning him to sit beside her.

“Should I give you guys a min—”

“No, please stay, Rory,” she says, giving me a smile. “I want you to be here.”