The Skeptic by Kelly Fox

Author:Kelly Fox [Fox, Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-11-14T16:00:00+00:00

An unfamiliar ringtone woke me. Day had become night, and I was still wrapped in Holden’s arms. I shifted, turning to face him, kissing his sharp chin. “I think that’s your phone, Hold.”

He started at my soft words, blinking, blurry and confused until he met my eyes. A slow, shy smile tilted his lips. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I responded, pressing my lips to his.

His phone rang again, and he groaned. “That’s Dad’s ring. Probably wants me to pick up something from the store on the way home.”

“Better answer it, then,” I said, letting my hand drift over his naked hip.

The ringing stopped, then started up again immediately, and Holden’s brows stitched together. Hurrying over to the kitchen table, slightly hunched as if to hide his nudity, he picked up his phone and tapped the screen. “Dad? What’s wrong?”

Ren’s soft voice murmured on the other end of the line, and Holden’s look of horror told me something was very wrong indeed.

He hung up, his wide doe eyes tracking to mine. “Pops lost consciousness in the middle of the H-E-B, probably a heart attack. Dad said they’re putting him on a helicopter to Methodist. He asked me to come pick him up, but I don’t think—”

“I’ll drive,” I said immediately.

He nodded, and we were dressed and in my truck minutes later.

Holden was silent as we drove. I hit the highway and turned in by the grocery store just as the AirLIFE helicopter rose from the parking lot. Holden gripped the dashboard, watching it disappear into the night. We were stuck waiting as the traffic slowly unsnarled itself, and his breathing only got faster as the minutes ticked by. I offered my hand, and he grabbed it, holding it tight to his chest.

Finally, we were able to roll up to the front of the store, where Ren was sitting. Holden’s hand went to his mouth when he took in his father’s appearance. Ren’s eyes were puffy and red, and his hair looked like he’d been grabbing it by the roots. Holden jumped out and ushered his dad into the middle seat, which made the slight man seem even smaller, somehow.

I reached for Ren’s hand as Holden slid in next to his dad. “The roads are clear. We won’t get there much later than the helicopter.”

Ren shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. He’s gone.”

“Dad, you don’t know that.”

“The medics were careful not to say anything, but I know my husband, son. He was gray.”

“Like last week, when he could barely get up the stairs?”

“Worse.” Ren’s face crumpled, and his quiet words gutted me. He believed what he was saying. Still, I pressed my old truck into action, roaring toward the Methodist Heart Hospital in San Antonio.

I took the lead as we entered the hospital. While I was more than familiar with the hospital in New Braunfels, this place didn’t feel familiar or friendly at all. Thankfully, the lady behind the patient services counter was nice enough and directed us to the ICU, where we were showed to a family waiting area.

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