“I’m in Chicago, Dad. I’m on my way.”
I could hear my father telling people to get out of his way. “Well, you better hurry. He is flying out tonight.”
Damn it. “I’m going as fast as I can. I’m not that far away.”
“How are you getting in?”
“I still have my badge, Mr. Elliot told me he was giving me one month to make my final decision.”
I heard some more talking and then I heard my father say, “Oh shit. Stop him, Robby!”
Fear raced through my body as my heart sped up. Emmit. Oh God, Emmit, don’t do something stupid.
“Dad? Dad!”
The line went dead the moment I pulled up to the gate. I flashed my badge at one of the two security guards standing there and was waved through. I had no idea where in the hell I was going. Rolling the window down, I yelled out, “I need to get to Emmit Lewis right away. It’s an emergency.”
The second guard quickly waved me over to park. Jumping out of my car, I ran over to his truck and jumped in. “I’m not sure where he is.”
The guard chuckled. “He’s about to start a fight on victory lane.”
My heart dropped and I closed my eyes, “Oh no. Please hurry!” I said a quick prayer I’d make it in time.
It was a short drive to victory lane as the security guard pulled up. I jumped out of the truck before it even came to a stop. “Excuse me, let me through!” I yelled as the security guard led me through the crowd. I could see everyone from both Malcolm and Emmit’s pit crew there.
Emmit and Malcolm were both going after each other as members of their pit crews tried to pull them apart.
“Emmit!” I screamed as I looked for something to get me up higher.
I ran over to a table and climbed up on it. Robert Elliot was attempting to pull Emmit off of Malcolm. One punch landed and Malcolm stumbled back. Screaming to the top of my lungs, I called out, “Emmit!”
Emmit stopped trying to get to Malcolm and turned to look in my direction. Our eyes met and I could see the rage as a shiver ran up my spine. My body came to life as his eyes pierced me. Then he was gone. My mouth dropped open as I saw someone holding something in their hands, security tackled the person and the object he had been holding hit the ground. With all the noise and people yelling, the only thing I heard was my breathing. Then I looked at Emmit who was lying on the pavement, blood pooling at his head.
“No!” I screamed as I jumped down and rushed to Emmit.
As I dropped to the ground I was overcome by the smell of blood. Covering my mouth, I forced myself not to throw up. I was a nurse. The smell of blood sh
ouldn’t bother me at all.
But this was different. This was Emmit’s blood.
And there was a lot of it.
Emmit had been unconscious for the last twenty-two hours. They had taken him down for another cat scan when Malcolm insisted I leave to go eat something. The fact that Malcolm was still here at the hospital spoke volumes to me.
My mind flashed back to when Emmit was in surgery getting the gash in his head stitched up. Malcolm, Richard, and I had talked to a police officer investigating the incident.
“It was one of Malcolm Wallace’s fans. He made his way through the crowd. I guess he was upset about Emmit starting the fight.”
The officer nodded his head and continued to write. “And he picked up the unopened beer can and hit Mr. Lewis over the head with it?”
“Yes,” Robert, one of the pit crew members said.
My stomach turned every time I thought about it. When Emmit hit the ground, his head hit hard, causing another gash.
I dragged in a deep breath before I pushed the door open to Emmit’s hospital room. Malcolm glanced up from the chair he had been sitting in as I attempted to give him a smile. “That was not fast enough to eat, Adaline.”
I shrugged my shoulders and sat down in the chair on the other side of Emmit. Both of us had either been in Emmit’s room or somewhere in the hospital since Emmit was admitted. “I can’t eat, Malcolm. My stomach is too sick.”