Page 37 of Well Aware

The car’s driver swerved at the last second as Iris finally saw the car.

She turned at the last second, and the car clipped Iris’s backpack as it squeezed past Iris and the bus.

Iris’ tiny body whirled like she was doing a triple axel and she landed on the curb, crying out.

I got to her in the next instant.

“Iris, honey,” I cried, tears pouring down my cheeks.

She started to cry.

It was the best and worst sound I’d ever heard.

Beau arrived like an avenging angel.

He was dressed in his lumberjack best—jeans, black tee, plaid long-sleeved shirt and boots.

He stomped into the emergency room like he owned it and demanded to know where Iris was.

I hadn’t called him. I had no idea how he’d heard.

But I was so glad that he was there.

“Here.”

He glanced toward me, and his shoulders visibly relaxed.

He tapped the nurses’ station twice with his scarred knuckles in apology and headed my way.

“What happened?”

My face hurt from crying.

I’d done it nonstop since I’d gotten here.

Iris was okay.

But she was freaking the fuck out because there were so many people and harsh lights. It became really obvious really quick that they would have to sedate her to treat her.

That was what we were discussing now.

I explained the situation that I was speaking about with the doctors, and Beau blew out a frustrated breath, but pulled me into his side. “Have you tried turning the lights down?”

I relaxed against him, unable to do anything but give him all my weight. He switched our positions, pulling me into his side so my front was pressed against his. He turned us slightly so we could both still see the doctor, but didn’t try to hide his need for touch.

“And the beeping on the monitor?” He jerked his chin toward the monitors that were beeping away above Iris’s head.

“Oh.” The nurse hurried into the room and muted them immediately. “I could stop that.”

We both watched Iris visibly relax, her face bruised from hitting the curb, now settling into relaxed lines.

“Lysander, my brother, had to come to the ER like this when he broke his femur,” he said. “Had to have surgery on it. We had to pretty much give him a quiet room,” he explained when the doctor looked at him questioningly. “They moved him to the back of the ER where they put psych patients? Apparently it’s quieter back there, and away from the hustle and bustle of the ER.”

“We can move her for sure, too.” The doctor was nodding along. “I don’t think anything too bad is wrong. But I don’t want to miss something.”

I nodded against Beau’s chest.

I didn’t want them to miss anything either.