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  An ambulance chaser was interviewed who explained the perils of being an attorney. All garbage.

  “Can someone turn this crap off?” Roc pointed to the tv.

  Countee retrieved the remote from the nurse’s station and turned the television off. Both he and Laila had been on their phones non-stop since we arrived. My phone was vibrating non-stop, but I wasn’t concerned with anything except finding out how Samuel was doing.

  “Ms. Valentine?” A doctor in white lab coat wearing seafoam green scrubs said as he stepped into the room. He removed the surgical hat from his head while looking around the room to find Vivian. Vivian shot from her seat and rushed over to the doctor.

  “I’m Vivian Valentine.”

  “I am Doctor August McIntyre.” He extended his hand. They shook. “I led the team that operated on Mr. Valentine. He is alive…,” Everyone in the room released a deep breath. “Can you follow me to another room? I would like to discuss his condition with you,” Doctor McIntyre asked.

  “Yes, of course,” Vivian responded.

  “Roc,” Vivian called then grabbed Torrey’s hand. She came to me and extended her other hand. I accepted. I didn’t know if I was ready to hear the news that the doctor was going to deliver but I was so happy that she chose to let me hear it first-hand. “This is Samuel’s brother Princeton, his sister Torrey and his girlfriend, Averie,” Vivian said.

  We followed Doctor McIntyre out of the waiting room into a smaller room several doors down the hall.

  “Please have a seat,” the doctor motioned to the seats across the table from him.

  I chose a seat on one side of Vivian while Torrey sat on the other. Roc decided not to sit. Torrey and I held Vivian’s hands and waited for the doctor to speak.

  “Mr. Valentine coded two times while we had him on the operating table, so we had to intubate him. He is on a ventilator which is a machine that is helping him breathe. He was shot three times. One bullet went through his side into his stomach and missed all the vital organs and arteries. The second bullet went through his back and rested millimeters from his spine. The third bullet hit his upper thigh area and nicked the femoral artery. We were able to carefully remove all three bullets and repair the artery, but we don’t know what the end results may be. He lost a lot of blood before he got to us and he continued to lose blood in the O.R. Because one of the bullets was so close to his spine, we could be dealing with a whole host of problems that could include paralysis. Furthermore, he sustained a significant gash on his head that caused some swelling in his brain. We are hopeful that he will pull through but the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours are going to be crucial.”

  “What do you mean by crucial and what host of problems are you talking about?” I needed him to tell us precisely what we might be dealing with.

  “As with any surgical procedure, there is the risk of infection or we could have thought we fixed everything and didn’t, although, I’m certain that is not the case. We could have missed something which can happen with trauma victims. We just don’t know, not yet,” Doctor McIntyre explained.

  “I need you to understand that my brother is not some street thug that was shot because he had it coming to him. He is a good man and an upstanding citizen. I just want to make sure he is being treated right,” Torrey interjected.

  “I’ve heard of Mr. Valentine and his work in the community. I am also a little familiar with his story. But even if he were a street thug that was shot because that’s the life that he chose to lead would not make me work any differently. All life is precious,” Doctor McIntyre responded.

  “Can we see him?” Vivian asked.

  “Yes, he is being moved from the surgery step down unit to the intensive care unit. The three of you can go in to see him but, beyond that, he doesn’t need any visitors.”

  “Doctor McIntyre, I don’t know how things are run here but, if it’s okay with you Vivian, I would like for Samuel to have a private room with limited access to the staff and public. He is a public figure whose assault is playing on a loop on the news. We don’t want the wrong people having access to him. Also, we will have our own security team set up on the floor of his room. Vivian, is that okay?” I looked at her for confirmation.

  “That’s perfect, sweetheart,” Vivian affirmed. “Thank you for thinking of it.”

  “It is hospital policy for us to put violent trauma patients on the blackout list meaning that we don’t release any information about them, but I will contact the hospital administration so someone from up there can come down to talk to you,” Doctor McIntyre responded.

  “I appreciate that, but I don’t want to speak to anyone that can’t make immediate decisions. If that person is not available, then I will need whoever is in charge of them. As a matter of fact, please make sure that I am in contact with the final decision maker. Thank you, Doctor McIntyre.”

  Doctor McIntyre stood. “Not a problem. Please stay here. The hospital chief will be in to speak with you, and the nurse will direct you to the intensive care unit as soon as they have Mr. Valentine settled.”

  “Thank you, Doctor,” we all said as he walked out of the room.

  “You and my brother are cut from the same aggressive cloth. That poor doctor didn’t know what had hit him,” Torrey said.

  “I’m just trying to help them out because if something goes wrong while Samuel is here, I am going to sue them until the name of this hospital is Valentine Hospital. I mean that.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you do!” Torrey shook her head.

  “Ms. Valentine?” A tall woman with long curly hair and coffee colored skin asked when she entered the conference room.

  “Yes?” Vivian responded.

  “Hi, I am Chelsea Nelson. I am the hospital’s Chief Operating Officer. I was told you needed to speak with me?”

  She chose the same seat Doctor McIntyre had used.

  “Hi, Ms. Nelson. I am Averie Patterson. I am the family’s attorney and Mr. Valentine’s girlfriend. I needed to speak with you about Mr. Valentine’s care. We would like Mr. Valentine to be moved to a private floor or at least a private area on a floor with limited access from the public and staff. He is a prominent figure in the community, and his attack has been playing non-stop on the news. The police don’t have any leads yet, so that means that the person or persons responsible for his condition are still on the loose. We have our own private security team that we will put in place so that we are not taxing or adding any burden to your current security staff.”

  “Ms. Patterson, we pride ourselves in providing top-notch care within secure facilities. We are more than capable of taking care of Mr. Valentine and providing security for him on a regular floor.”

  “Ms. Nelson, I don’t think that what we are asking is far-fetched or beyond the scope of what you do for people all the time. We are not asking for anything for free. Mr. Valentine’s insurance will pay and what it doesn’t, will be covered by me. I just wouldn’t want anything to happen while he is in the care of your hospital that would cause me to focus the energy of two prominent and powerful law firms directly at you and your hospital. If we work together from the beginning, we can avoid a lot of threats and legal filings that will have you and your lawyers tied up in court for years.”

  “Ms. Patterson, I…”

  “Cooperation would not be without its benefits for you and this hospital. I was at the fundraiser last year for the pediatric ward. You didn’t reach your donation goal at the time; did you ever reach it?”

  “Ummm…no, no we haven’t.”

  “Right, I didn’t think so. I know you haven’t been in this position long, having moved into it when Mr. Theland retired. One of the main objectives of your position is to secure funding for your projects, correct?”

  “Correct,” she watched me closely waiting on my next words.

  “Torrey Valentine is well known in the charitable community,” I nodded towards Torrey.

  She leaned forward quickly to look down the table at
Torrey. Her eyes lit up.

  “Ms. Valentine, I’ve reached out to you about some projects we have in the works,” Ms. Nelson revealed.

  “Well, there you go. Both Torrey and I would be more than willing to help with your fundraising efforts.”

  She started typing into her phone and stood from the table.

  “Let me get some things in order for you. When it is time to move Mr. Valentine to a room, we will have an area for him.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Nelson.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Patterson.”

  She continued typing on her phone as she left the room.

  “Vee, how did you know all of that information about her?” Torrey asked.

  “Like I told her, I attended her fundraising event last year. She was like a fish out of water. Didn’t know how to ask for what she needed, so she didn’t reach her goal. I was going to threaten her with moving El to one of the private hospitals further out, but she caved so fast, I didn’t have to say anything else,” I shrugged.

  “You and El are cut from the exact same aggressive cloth,” Roc shook his head.

  “I told you,” Torrey chuckled.

  “Thank you, Averie,” Vivian rasped.

  “Anything for Samuel.”

  Ms. Nelson gave the order, and El was moved to a private area of the hospital with limited access instead of the ICU.

  They chose a couple of staff members from the ICU to move with Samuel to his new room to take care of him.

  Countee started running background checks on the staff that would interact with Samuel from the janitor to the doctors. In a matter of an hour, he had a security detail set up on the floor.

  The family moved from the emergency room waiting area to a waiting area on the same floor as El, but we still hadn’t been able to see him.

  I had so many thoughts running through my head. Would he make it? Would he be okay if he does make it? Will he be the same man I fell in love with? Does it matter as long as he is okay? Who did this? Does it have anything to do with me? What are the odds that I would get attacked and he would get shot? Should I let Roc find this bastard and end his life? Could I kill someone? Would I kill someone?

  Doctor McIntyre stepped into the waiting area.

  “Ms. Valentine, you all can go into the room now. Let me warn you that Samuel is sleeping and he is being monitored by several machines. The sight of all the machines may be a little alarming, but they are all needed,” Doctor McIntyre revealed.

  “Y’all go ahead in. I will stay out here. I can’t see him like that,” Roc confessed.

  The smell of antiseptics mixed with cleaning agents hit my nose as I followed behind Torrey and Vivian into the hospital room. The fluorescent light’s dull glow combined with the pale walls created a somber atmosphere. The whooshing, beeping and hissing sounds of the machines created an orchestra of sound as they worked in concert to monitor Samuel.

  Nothing could have prepared me to see the man that I love, supine, motionless, swollen and bandaged. I’d never seen him so still. Even when I’d watched him sleep, there was always slight movement. I don’t know what I expected to see, but this was not it. There was a tube coming from his mouth, plastic tubes in his nose, a brace around his neck and his head was bandaged.

  “Samuel is on a ventilator which is breathing for him. This machine,” Doctor McIntyre pointed to a small screen with three sets of line graphs, “is monitoring his heart. I will give you a few minutes with him, then he will need his rest.”

  None of us acknowledged the doctor as he left the room. Vivian moved to the top of the bed and gently ran her hand down Samuel’s cheek. She lightly kissed him then stepped back to give Torrey space. Torrey ran her hand down his cheek as well.

  “He feels so cold. Maybe they need to put more blankets on him or turn the heat on,” she said while wiping tears from her face. She kissed him quickly then stepped back to give me space. I hadn’t planned on moving from the foot of the bed. I didn’t want to bump a machine or step on a cord and mess something up, but I had to touch him. I slowly moved to the side of the bed looking down with every step to make sure I didn’t step on something. I lifted his hand, which was cold as ice, and brought it to my lips.

  “I love you, Samuel. Please fight for us. I need you. We need you.”

  I moved back and stood next to Vivian and held her while Torrey held her from the other side.

  “He’s going to make it,” Vivian said strongly.

  “Yep, he is,” Torrey added.

  All of a sudden, El’s eyes popped open.

  “El?”

  I stepped towards the bed his eyes connected with mine, then rolled to the back of his head.

  His body began to shake violently while every machine in the room started to beep, chirp, and buzz. Alarms began to sound, and red lights were flashing. The IV that was attached to his left hand was snatched out, and blood squirted around as his body continued to flail so violently that he looked like he was on the verge of falling out the bed.

  “OH MY GOD!” Vivian yelled.

  “SOMEBODY HELP!” Torrey screamed.

  I turned to run for help but was met at the door by a team of hospital workers who quickly went to work on Samuel.

  “Stop that bleeding!”

  “Stop him from falling from the bed!”

  Commands were being given by everyone in the room. Somehow, Vivian, Torrey and I had moved into the corner of the room. I don’t know if someone told us where to go or we moved there voluntarily. We held onto each other watching the team of doctors and nurses work on Samuel.

  Suddenly the shaking stopped, and the machine that had the line graphs started to beep a long continuous beep.

  “We're losing him!” Someone yelled.

  “I’m starting chest compressions,” Doctor McIntyre yelled just as he saw us standing in the corner.

  “GET THEM OUT OF HERE!” he yelled while moving to climb onto the bed.

  One of the nurses rushed towards us and pushed us out the door.

  “I’m sorry,” she said while closing the door behind her.

  We stood on the other side of the door, still huddled, waiting for someone to come out and tell us what was happening.

  “What just happened?” I asked just above a whisper.

  “I don’t know,” Torrey responded at the same volume.

  “Please don’t take my baby,” Vivian prayed.

  I didn’t take my eyes off the door to the room until Doctor McIntyre finally emerged. I had no idea how long we’d waited. I had no idea that the whole family had converged behind us until the doctor looked behind me to make eye contact with some of them.

  Doctor McIntyre took a deep breath before he spoke.

  “He had a seizure, probably due to the head trauma he suffered. Then he went into cardiac arrest. We are going to take him down to radiation to check for any skull fractures or brain bleeding. We will also check his heart. His condition is critical. We don’t know if he will make it through the night, but we will try our best to keep him alive. I would prefer that he rests for the night and not have any more visitors.”

  He put his hand on Vivian’s shoulder before going back into Samuel’s room.

  I turned around and saw my dad, mom, Keeva, and Kerem. I should have walked to them, but I turned and walked quickly to the hall in the direction of the women’s restroom. I burst through the doors of the two-stall bathroom, making it inside several feet before my legs gave out causing to me to fall to the ground. I heard someone come in behind me, but I couldn’t turn to see who it was because I couldn’t breathe. I was experiencing the same feeling I felt when Barry’s hands were around my neck. I started grabbing at my neck trying to figure out what was impeding my breathing. All I felt were my own fingers scraping at my skin.

  I heard faint whispers saying, “I got you, baby. Mommy has you.”

  But the banging of my heart in my ears made it hard to hear. I felt someone grab my hands.

  “Look at me, ba
by. Breathe, breathe. There is nothing on your neck. You are having a panic attack. Breathe,” my mother directed.

  I kept my eyes tightly shut. I felt her hold my face between her hands.

  “We are all here. You are okay. You have to breathe, baby. Samuel needs you,” my mother soothed.

  I couldn’t piece together a coherent thought. My mind was racing. My head was banging. My chest was burning. I couldn’t take a deep breath. My breaths were staccato and shallow.

  “Breathe, Averie,” I heard my dad’s voice.

  I slowly opened my eyes and saw my mother in front of me. My vision wasn’t clear, but I knew it was her.

  “That’s it. Take in a breath. You are okay. You are okay.”

  I took in a deep breath and felt my breathing start to level out.

  “There you go. You have to cry, Averie. You have to let it all out. I know it’s scary and a lot of responsibility has dropped into your lap. You are built to handle it. But first, you have to release,” my mother explained.

  She was correct. I needed to cry, but I hadn’t cried since I was nine. When I was in elementary school, I got a lower grade on my math test because the teacher claimed he couldn’t read my handwriting. I was livid! I knew math like the back of my hand. I’d studied for hours to get a perfect grade on that test. Then I didn’t get a perfect score because he couldn’t read my handwriting? I cried for an hour. After that, I decided that tears were for the weak. I went to the principal’s office and explained the situation. I took in writing samples and pleaded that my grade should be changed. My principal was impressed. He told me that I should become a lawyer when I grew up. Needless to say, that teacher raised my test score.

  “Come here, Vee,” I heard my father say.

  He pulled me in and wrapped his long arms around me. It was like he pressed a button that turned on my tears. My mother rubbed my back while my dad held me. Torrey wiped my face while I silently cried.

  “I watched him die, Mommy. He died right in front of me!”

  “I know baby. He’s not gone, they brought him back,” my mother softly said.