you sure?” he questions. “I know the doctors there are great, but I wouldn’t trust anyone with my daughter except for you.”
“It’s fine. I’ll meet you downstairs.”
“Thanks, man. I’ll be there in two minutes.”
I hurry past Laura who’s busily working at her desk. “There’s been an emergency with my niece,” I tell her. “Clear my schedule.”
“Oh, umm … okay,” she says, hardly getting a word out before I’m flying through the door. I don’t bother explaining that June isn’t really my niece. Enough of my cousins’ wives have walked through my office door over the past few years that she more than understands the connection. It’s gotten to the point where it’s just easier to call myself Uncle Thorne and refer to them as my many nieces and nephews—and trust me, when I say many, I mean it.
I race through the maternity ward and come to a screeching stop at the elevator. It’s nearly midday on a Tuesday, and I guess I’m lucky that I don’t usually schedule any inductions or cesareans on a Tuesday. It's the day I usually play catch up on all of my appointments and office bullshit. You know, when there isn’t another birthing emergency to attend to, which honestly, there usually is.
I slam my hand down on the elevator button and wait impatiently as I watch the number refusing to make it to level four. It’s stuck on level seven and hasn’t budged in at least two minutes. I press the button again and again before deciding that my impatience is far too strong.
I head for the stairs.
I make it down to the ER in no time. As I break through the emergency stairs into the ridiculously full waiting room, I realize that it’s some kind of Mayson family reunion down here. Asher, Cash, Nico, and Trevor, with all of their wives and kids, even my aunt and Uncle James and Susan have come to check on June. Shouldn’t these guys be at work? The kids at school?
I walk straight over to Asher who’s pacing wildly, probably scaring the other patients. He sees me and raises his chin in greeting. “Are they here yet?” I ask, quickly glancing around and spying the back entry door for the paramedics.
He shakes his head. “Not yet.”
I can’t help but grin. “You’re telling me that all of you managed to drop what you were doing, call in for backup, grab your wives and kids, and still be here before the ambulance?”
“Damn fucking straight. This is a Mayson baby we’re talking about,” Cash says from his spot across the room as he stands beside his wife, Lily, who watches their kids Jax and Ashlynn with a close eye as they attempt to destroy the vending machine.
I make my way over to the nurses’ station, and the woman behind the desk instantly looks up at me, ready to tell me exactly what I need to know. “ETA on the ambulance with June Mayson—broken arm in the park.”
The nurse nods and quickly scans through her computer. “Thirty seconds out. Are you taking it?”
“Yes.”
She nods and starts typing on her computer, so with nothing else to say, I head for the back entrance with all four of my cousins heavy on my heels. Technically, they’re not allowed back here, and I can tell by the looks I’m getting from the ER nurses that they’re not happy about it, but not one of them will attempt to say anything to me. Besides, there’s no point telling them to stay back, this is June we’re talking about, and these guys won’t be leaving her side until they know she is safe.
Just as the nurse said, the Ambulance shows up within thirty seconds, and before the paramedics can even get out of their ambulance, the four Mayson brothers are standing by the rear doors.
The paramedics hardly get past them to open the doors, and when they do, the sounds of June’s cries fill the ambulance parking bay as she screams for her daddy. Asher’s inside the fucking ambulance in no time.
The paramedics go for the gurney, and with Asher right by her side holding her hand, they get her down to the pavement, where the rest of the brothers instantly begin to crowd around.
I try to go for June but there are too many of these fuckers around to even get a look in. I find myself pausing when movement inside the back of the ambulance catches my attention. November stands awkwardly, struggling to get out