To Forgive & Hold Safe (The Broken Men Chronicles Book 4) Read Free Page A

she’s okay.”  With those words, and the desperation in my voice, the look in her eyes shifted to one of recognition, then sympathy.  She had been there that night when my family and I were brought in.
    Marie gulped and nodded.  “Okay,” she whispered.  She paused before her fingers made contact with the keyboard in front of her. “Ben, are you okay?”
    “Why is everyone asking me that?” My sudden burst of frustration caught me by surprise.
    “It’s just…” She was bringing back the past. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?”
    “No, I’m sorry.  I’m fine, really. It’s been a long day.  I guess I’m just a little tired.”
    She nodded, gave me a forced smile and proceeded to find the information I’d requested.  “She’s still in surgery, there’s no room assignment yet.”
    “Can you tell me if her next of kin has been contacted?”
    “She had nothing with her when they brought her in, but the police are looking into it.” I nodded.  “I’m not supposed to do this, but-”
    “Is Hannah Parsons’ family here?” I heard behind me.
    “Here,” I said without thinking and turned to the voice, dismissing the arched brow and tight-lipped expression that had made its way onto Marie’s face.
    The man in surgical scrubs eyed me from top to bottom.  “Well you look like you’ve seen better days,” the mid-fifty’s doctor said before presenting his hand.  “I’m Doctor Caruthers.  I’m the surgeon who operated on Mrs. Parsons.  What’s your relation to the patient?”
    “I found her.”
    “You’re family?”
    “No, not exactly, but-”
    “They can’t seem to locate her family, Doctor,” Marie interjected.
    The man nodded.
    “How is she?” I asked.
    “I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss that with anyone but her family,” the man said.
    “But-”
    “Excuse me, but we got a call about our daughter being brought here?”
    “Name?” Marie asked.
    “Hannah Parsons?”
    “Mrs. Parsons’ parents I presume?” Doctor Caruthers said, and I turned to stand beside him.
    The older couple turned toward us and looking into the woman’s face, it was unmistakable that she was Hannah’s mother.  I’d recognize those emerald eyes anywhere.
    “Yes,” the man said as he squeezed his wife into his side in an effort to support her.  The woman stood there, her eyes fused to my shirt and then meeting mine, her expression one of inquiry.  Her husband must have noticed her diverted attention because he addressed me next.  “Who are you?”
    “I was-”
    “He was on the scene with your daughter,” the doctor supplied.
    “How are they doing?” Hannah’s father asked.
    “You haven’t heard?”  Caruthers’s tone sounded so robotic I wanted to hit the man and let him know that he needed to brush up on his people skills, despite his obvious years of practice.
    Hannah’s mother’s eyes were still on me and I could no longer hold anyone’s gaze.  With my eyes set on my feet, the woman’s whispery voice asked, “He’s not okay, is he?”
    “No, ma’am,” I said before the doctor had the chance and lifted my gaze back to hers.  “He died before the emergency team got there.”
    The woman emitted some sort of squeak, seeking refuge in her husband’s chest, where he held her tight, her body shaking with quiet sobs.
    “How’s our daughter?” he asked, his voice quivering.
    Doctor Caruthers escorted Hannah’s parents away from me before providing them with an answer, which I listened in for regardless.  “Hannah’s status is critical right now, but she is stable.”
    “She’s going to pull through though, right?”  Her father’s tone of desperation had me gulping down the surge of emotion that burned my throat.
    “It’s too early to determine that,” Caruthers said. “Your daughter lost a lot of blood.  She arrested en route and crashed once more upon her arrival.  For all intents and purposes, she should be fine physically.”
    “What do you mean