of her tooth a few years ago. She joked about keeping it as a reminder of how much unnecessary pain she was in because she was too stubborn to go to the dentist before it got bad. However, I didn’t realize she’d kept it,” I paused and gently squeezed her hand. “It was Heidi’s tooth, not Paige’s.”
“Why are you telling me this?” she shrieked. I blinked, taken aback by her reaction. “Answer me, damn it!”
“Because Heidi had an undiagnosed clotting disorder that caused her to hemorrhage and die after giving birth. If she’s really your biological half sister, then there’s a chance you could have the clotting disorder too.”
“Wouldn’t I know that by now?” she asked, seemingly slightly dazed.
“Not necessarily,” the paramedic chimed in. “Many times, less severe forms go undiagnosed until the individual undergoes a massive trauma to the body, like a gunshot wound or giving birth.”
“You’re absolutely certain that tooth belonged to Heidi?” she asked.
“Positive. Paige got a flat on the way home. She called the club for help, and I was the one who went and changed her tire. Then, I helped her get Heidi home and into bed. But Heidi kept going on and on about her tooth. She told me to put it in the green bag in her jewelry box. I did it to appease her, but I had no idea she actually kept it,” I prattled on
“Then that means Blue is my niece,” she mumbled before her eyes closed and her head lolled to the side.
“Sir, I need you to sit back so I can work. Her BP’s dropping, and she’s lost consciousness.”
It took everything I had to let go of her hand and move out of the way as best I could. All the while, I kept my eyes focused on her pale face and prayed she’d wake up. I couldn’t go through losing another person I loved.
It was a blur of activity when we arrived at the hospital. Sloane still hadn’t woken up, but I managed to kiss her and tell her I loved her once more before a team of people clad in masks and scrubs whisked her away.
A smaller team approached me. “Sir, let’s get you to a room and have a look at your wound,” one of them said, eyeing me cautiously and obviously terrified to come any closer.
My woman was fighting for her life, and once again, I’d almost had my life taken from me. I was on the verge of a breakdown and needed a distraction before I lost my shit without my brothers around. I turned to the frightened medical student, took one step forward, and shouted, “Boo!”
He jumped and let out a high-pitched scream while I threw my head back and laughed. “Let that be a lesson to you about judging a book by its cover. Now, if you’ll point me in the direction of my room, I might even be willing to comply and put on the gown.”
“Right this way,” a middle-aged woman said and escorted me to my room. “I just need to get a little information from you, and we’ll get you fixed up shortly.”
“Can I give you the information on the woman they just brought in first? I know her name and most of her details. But the important thing is we believe she has a clotting disorder. The same one that her sister died from a few months ago. They need to know that before they do anything to her,” I insisted and blurted Sloane’s basic information while she wrote it on a scratch piece of paper.
“Thank you. I’ll be right back,” she said and quickly left my room, hopefully relaying the information I shared.
When she returned, I asked before she had a chance to speak. “How is she?”
“I can’t tell you much because of the privacy laws, but I will tell you that they’re taking her to surgery to get the bleeding under control. From the looks of it, we should be able to get you stitched up and out of here around the time she’ll be in recovery.”
“Works for me. Let’s do it,” I said and settled back onto the thin plastic pad they called a mattress.
A short while later, the doctor came in, removed the bullet from my shoulder, and stitched the wound in less than ten minutes. “All right, we need you to hang around for a little longer to make sure you don’t have a reaction to any of the medications we gave you.