Page 52 of Holding On

“When Fiona arrived at the emergency room, they assessed her and quickly took her into emergency surgery like I told you. The doctors were worried about her internal bleeding and needed to stabilize some of her fractures. They ruled out an epidural hematoma as well.”

“How many fractures does she have?” Wells interrupts.

Daphne pauses before responding, “Too many, Wells. Due to the high rate of speed upon impact, Fiona has a fractured pelvis and femur, along with multiple rib fractures.”

“Fucking hell...” Wells looks at me with wide eyes.

But I know Daphne. And I doubt that’s all of it. “What else aren’t you saying, Daphne?”

She sighs. “She’s still unresponsive, and the doctors just told me Fiona has sustained a severe traumatic brain injury, specifically an acute subdural hematoma. She is getting set up in the ICU right now and I’m not sure when I can see her, but the initial brain imaging showed that her brain has severe swelling.”

“What does that mean, Daph?” I ask. “What are they saying that means for recovery?”

“It means we don’t know yet if that’s an option. And it also means I need her sister to hurry up and get here as soon as possible from Nashville.”

“Did we put her sister on one of our jets?” I ask.

“Of course. She should be landing here in the next thirty minutes. One of my associates will meet her at the tarmac and accompany her until I can meet with her.”

“Is there any other family we need to notify?” Wells ask.

“No, it’s just Fiona and Dahlia, and … well, it’s just the two of them right now. But I’ve actually met Dahlia a few times before so maybe that will help a little to know at least one person here.”

“What’s her prognosis, really? Like no bullshit?” Wells asks.

“It all depends on how things go from here, but this is a bad spot to come back from. I won’t give you guys false hope.” Daphne says something to someone next to her before coming back to our conversation. “One of the nurses just came and told me that Tinsley is out of her CT scan and asking for me, so I will be going between her room and Fiona’s until you guys arrive. I also have additional team members here to ensure that no one is alone at any point. Thor also has security teams stationed at each room. There’s already been a breach of security with the press, but Thor’s guys made sure they didn’t make it past the elevators on Tinsley’s floor.”

“If she’s awake when you see Tinsley, will you call us, if she’s up to it?” I try my hardest not to make it sound like an order but I need to talk to my girl.

We know from Daphne’s earlier call that Tinsley’s injuries are not nearly as severe as Fiona’s. She has a mild concussion which they are going to watch with CT scans. Due to her recent concussion she just suffered last fall, and the fact that she was unconscious for a short period of time after the crash, she is at risk for intracranial bleeding and will likely be in the hospital for a few days to monitor that alone. Tinsley has some cuts on her face from the impact and probably from the airbags deploying, but because she was wearing her seatbelt, most of her injuries are bruises related to the impact of the crash. I am worried about her ribs since she just recovered from Rick breaking them four months ago, but there is no comparison of the severity of injuries between Tinsley and Fiona.

And of course, Roman Cash.

He was pronounced dead at the scene, which has made a terrible situation even worse with the paparazzi out for blood, and images of him with Tinsley and Fiona before they left the Grammys are being used as speculation and fueling horrible rumors already. But like I told Wells, we are going to deal in facts, not fiction.

Right now, the only fact I care about is that I need to get to my girl, and I won’t be able to fully exhale until my eyes are on her—until I am able to touch her, and she knows I’m there.

Once I’m by her side, I’m not leaving it for the foreseeable future.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The distinct smell of antiseptic is the first clue that something is really fucking wrong. I try to open my eyes, but there’s a blinding light and my eyes involuntarily close tight again.

Where the hell am I and what is that annoying noise?

There’s a constant beeping and if I can figure out where it’s coming from, I’m throwing something at it so it shuts up. My head is pounding, and as I try to raise my hand to brush whatever is tickling me away from my nose, it’s like my arm is under water and not moving as fast as it should.

Can someone shut that damn beeping off?

I try to open my eyes again, but the blinding light makes me squint until my hand can shield my eyes from the bright light.

I start to look around the room, but as soon as I can focus on my body, I see that I’m no longer in the gorgeous emerald green gown I wore to the Grammys, but I’m in … what the hell am I wearing?

I glance to my right and notice the handrail of the bed as things click together.

I’m wearing a hospital gown because I am in a hospital.

Why … the memory of fighting with Roman is hazy, but the realization that we were in a crash is solidified when my entire body seems to come online and scream messages of pain to my brain.