but he’s out of it, which is for the best so he’s not focused on the pain. They’re quickly setting up the IV to administer pain management, which means he should be stable soon. It feels weird watching this and not doing it. I don’t like it.
Trying to keep myself occupied, I take out my cell, seeing I only have one battery bar left on my phone. Guess my ten-minute charge didn’t do much. I send Cali a text:
Me: Tango’s going to be fine but there was an accident. Meet us at the hospital. He’s going to need surgery.
It takes less than a minute for Cali to respond, and it’s the response I expected to receive.
Cali: What? Is he okay? What happened? I’m on my way.
That was easy. God, I need a chick like her. Any other wife would be running around screaming like the end of the world was coming. Not Cali, though. If only everyone could act that way, there would be a lot less need for Xanax.
Jags: He fell off the second-story level. He’s got a pretty busted leg and maybe a few fractured ribs. He’s out of it but we’re on our way to the hospital now.
Cali: Thanks for staying with him.
That’s the nicest thing that girl has said to me yet.
It only takes a few minutes before we fly into the hospital parking lot, pulling up in front of the emergency doors. As expected, I’m asked to head to the waiting room until they have more answers about Tango’s condition. I give Tango a slight tap on the shoulder and tell him I’ll be waiting for him. He doesn’t respond with anything that makes sense, but I know he knows I’m waiting here.
I’m aware Tango had all intentions of dying alone a few years ago. I mean, I haven’t met another man like him before. Being diagnosed with lung cancer at a young age while in combat of all things, only to be sent home to die isn’t something many people can claim as their story. Then, of course, by some miracle, the guy survived the whole ordeal and decided to let everyone think he actually died. I still don’t fully understand what was going through his head but this is who he is. I’m honestly surprised he got married and had a family. He never struck me as the marrying type. Although Cali seems like the female version of him, so I suppose it makes a little sense.
Dropping down into one of the blue seats in the corner of the waiting room, I snatch a car magazine off the table beside me. I’m trying to focus on an article, but for some sick reason, part of me is too busy questioning if I miss the scent of ammonia and the rush of helping people. I do, but then the memories of missing limbs and blown off flesh and shrapnel lining beautiful faces fills those thoughts. It was what I wanted to do with my life. God, that pissed my pops off. All he ever wanted was for me take over his restore business. I love that shit too, but helping people seemed more fulfilling. Doesn’t matter now since I made my decision. I guess I can get my fill by helping sick cars.
Cali, Sasha, and Tyler jog into the waiting room and I’m surprised to see the quickness in Cali’s step. She always seems so calm and doesn’t usually get worked up, not that I’ve seen anyway. Though, I guess we can all act brave, but when someone you love is hurting, there’s nothing masking that pain inside.
“Can I see him?” is the first thing Cali asks.
I drop the magazine down on the table and stand up, pulling her into me. “He’s going to be okay, hun.”
“Don’t pull that shit on me, Jags. Just tell me if I can see him!” She pulls away from my embrace and runs over to the reception desk. She’s definitely frazzled.
“What happened?” Sasha asks in a low whisper while twisting Tyler’s ponytail around her finger.
“His leg is pretty busted and maybe a few ribs too,” I tell her.
“Yeah, that’s what Cali said.”
“Is Cali okay?” I ask Sasha.
“Not really. She puts on a real good act, though. Tango is her life, like she doesn’t do anything without him. He’s all she talks about. To everyone else, they’re tough as nails, but neither of them really are.”
“I figured,” I tell her.
“Hey, pretty girl,” I address Tyler, who’s trying to figure