Page 112 of Baby Daddy

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Page 112 of Baby Daddy

CHAPTER 45

Drake

The ambulance siren blared in my ears.

They were taking Ty to Children’s Hospital, which happened to be the closest hospital to Dee’s house. A few minutes away…with no traffic.

The poor little thing was strapped onto a gurney, which made her tiny form, look so frail and vulnerable. An oxygen mask covered her face and she was wrapped in a thick blanket. At this point, the paramedics didn’t know the extent of her injuries, but what I surmised was that she was in critical condition. She was hanging on to life by a mere thread.

The moving van driver had miraculously escaped the harrowing crash without as much as a scratch and felt terrible about the fatal incident. Both the cops and I assured him it wasn’t his fault.

Kyle didn’t make it. After his car burst into flames, the motherfucker was burnt beyond recognition. Under different circumstances, I may have rejoiced—ding-dong, the fucker’s gone—but all that mattered to me right then and there was the condition of Dee’s precious little girl. Krizia had joined me at the scene of the accident, tearfully begging for forgiveness. The crazy bitch had no clue that when Kyle had asked her to help him get access to Dee in exchange for some blow that he was going to kidnap her daughter. I had no interest in her tears or rant and, in my rage, told her to fuck off. There was someone far more important who needed my attention. My support. And my love.

Sobbing softly, Dee sat huddled next to me, my bomber jacket over her halter-top to keep her warm. My arm was wrapped around her. She had fainted at the sight of Kyle’s car blowing up, but fortunately hadn’t sustained any major injuries except for a few minor cuts and scrapes from her earlier fall, which the paramedics patched up.

She shivered against me. “Oh, Drake, I’m so scared.”

“D-Baby, she’s going to be okay,” I assured her, lying through my teeth as I brushed away her tears. The truth was I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t share this with my vulnerable, beautiful companion. I squeezed her shoulders, feeling closer to her than I ever had. Tragedy, I realized, had a weird way of bringing people together, and for a brief moment, I thought about the untimely death of my sister, who I’d never gotten to know. It could have separated my parents, but instead it made them stronger. Cemented them forever.

Uncertainty coursed through me as we raced up Sunset Boulevard, weaving in and out of the minimal Saturday morning traffic. I called my parents to let them know what had happened so that arrangements could be made to give Tyson the best medical care possible. Being major benefactors of this renowned hospital came with benefits as they should. Both my parents, who had in a short time grown very close to this special little girl, insisted on joining us at the hospital. I told them not to come until I called them. Fingers crossed that phone call would come with good news.

Then, I gave my phone to Dee so she could call her sister Lulu. With all the fire trucks and police cars at the scene of the accident, she was trapped on the street. Driving behind the van, she’d witnessed the whole thing, not knowing who was involved. She promised to get to the hospital as soon as she could. All she could do for now was send prayers and positive thoughts. God knows, we needed them.

After a long fifteen minutes, the ambulance pulled into the emergency entrance of the hospital. The paramedics pushed the back doors open, and I hopped out and then helped Dee, who I feared would collapse again if I didn’t hold on to her. With my arm wrapped around her waist, our eyes stayed on the stretcher as the paramedics worked quickly to slide it out with our little Tyson fighting for her life. A team of doctors and nurses met us at the entrance.

“Drake, are you sure she’s going to be okay?” asked my teary-eyed companion.

I was about to say yes. But as Ty was transferred to another gurney, she began to convulse. Her little body shook violently.

“Move it! Move it!” shouted one of the medics.

“Oh my God! What’s happening?” Dee cried out.

“She’s going into cardiac arrest!”

Jesus.

“Where are you taking her?” I blurted.

“Straight to surgery.”

“Oh my God,” Dee gasped again as the emergency team charged through the automatic doors. We kept pace with them as they raced to an elevator, everything a blur. Holding Dee’s ice-cold hand, I knew in my heart we were racing against time.




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