Apparently, Veronica didn’t slow down when she saw them. She started to swerve violently so the guys held back far enough to let the cops get involved, after Kyson’s mom had called in the kidnapping. The cops chased Veronica down the streets of Denver. Veronica ran a red light, and turned to avoid oncoming traffic, but ultimately hit the car on Hope’s side. The car flipped over and wrapped around a light pole.
Veronica wasn’t wearing a seat belt. Her head had smashed through the windshield, her body left hanging half out and half inside the car.
All Razor knew was that Hope had to be cut out of the car with the Jaws of Life. She was bleeding from her head and her arm, unconscious when the paramedics arrived.
I met Carol, Kyson’s mother, after the update. She had shoulder-length curly hair, incredible, kind blue eyes just like Kyson’s and a singsong voice. She looked nothing like a biker babe in her fashionable dark stretch jeans and flowery short-sleeve top. Though she did look a lot like a grandma just scratching the surface of sixty, who was scared out of her mind for her grandchild.
I stood close to Kyson, who refused to sit, preferring to pace back and forth down the hall of the ICU.
“Izzy!” I heard called from behind us and there were Suda Kaye and Evie, holding hands, rushing down the corridor, their husbands following from behind them.
“What’s going on? Is Hope okay? What happened?” Suda Kaye asked, pushing hair out of her face.
“What are you all doing here?” I choked out, my emotions all over the place.
“Your stepdaughter was kidnapped and in an accident. Where do you think we’d be?” Evie jolted her head back as though offended. “Lincoln called. We raced over as soon as we found out Hope was hurt.”
Tears welled up and I opened my arms and cried in their hold. “Thank you. It means so much to Kyson and me that you’re all here.”
Suda Kaye rubbed her hand up and down my back. “Whatever you guys need. Coffee, food, someone to vent to, you’ve got it. We’re here.”
Kyson came over and wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. I wiped away my tears on my shirtsleeve and tried to be strong for my man.
“Means a lot that you’re here,” he said softly.
“What can we do?” Camden asked.
“Pray. Pray for my baby girl,” he croaked out, emotion taking over.
I turned around and wrapped my arms around him as he buried his face against my neck.
After a good, long while, a man in surgical attire came out the doors to the ICU. “Turner family?” he called out.
Kyson and I held hands as we went over to the medical professional.
“Yeah, I’m Hope’s father.”
“And Veronica Turner?” He looked at his clipboard. “You’re the Kyson Turner listed on her emergency contact?”
He nodded but didn’t say anything.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this.” The surgeon’s brown eyes were kind and gentle. “Veronica suffered significant head trauma and is currently brain dead and breathing through a ventilator.”
Kyson closed his eyes as his mom let out a sob. I wrapped my arm around his waist, and put my other hand to his chest, right over his heart.
“My daughter?” he whispered.
“She’s alive, but...”
The entire room let out a collective relieved gasp. “Thank the good Lord,” came from Kyson’s father.
“Mr. Turner, you have some very difficult decisions ahead of you,” the surgeon spoke. “Your daughter not only sustained two broken ribs and a compound fracture to her arm, but also her head slammed against the car window during the accident. We’ve fixed the arm and repaired the superficial head wound but there is some concern due to the swelling in her brain. We want to put her in a medically induced coma in order to let the swelling go down and minimize the trauma.”
“Whatever you need to do that will give her the absolute best chance of recovery,” Kyson announced instantly.
“I’ll need to go over the risks with you, which I think is best to do so privately.”
Kyson nodded.
“And your wife...” the surgeon started, his mouth tipping into a frown.
“Ex-wife,” he stated flatly.
“Be that as it may, you are listed as her next of kin and have power over her medical care. She’s not listed as an organ donor on her medical record. Even though she was intoxicated, and her toxicology report showed a mixture of prescription drugs in her system, she is young. Her organs could save many lives.”
“Do it. I’ll sign whatever you need. The Roni I knew and loved would have wanted to save lives if she could.”
The doctor nodded and informed us that the agency that handled donor procurement would come speak with him soon. Then he took Kyson aside, away from most of us waiting, and whispered the concerns and risks about putting a small child in a medically induced coma.
I zoned out and just held on to Kyson, praying under my breath that Hope would be okay.
“When can I see Hope?” Kyson’s question broke me out of my prayer.
“Once she’s in recovery, we’ll let you come in two at a time.” The surgeon glanced around the room and saw how big the crew was waiting. “Two at a time,” he repeated.
Kyson nodded.
“I’ll send a nurse out to get you once she’s settled.”
* * *
For what seemed like forever, we waited, and Kyson paced. The man was going to wear a path in the ugly white hospital tiles if he didn’t stop, but I left him to it. I made sure I stood close enough for him to have me in his vision or stand next to me if he wanted the support.
Razor told the bikers to head out, promising to give an update when he could. Kyson made the horrifying call no parent ever wanted to hear, to Veronica’s family in Missouri. He also told them he had offered Veronica’s organs for donation and updated them on Hope. They were devastated, naturally, and planned to be at the hospital tomorrow to handle what was necessary for their daughter and be there for their granddaughter.
When the nurse finally came out and told Kyson he could see Hope, he reached out his hand to me.
“Honey, maybe your mom...” I glanced over at Carol, who was crying into Razor’s chest.
Kyson shook his head and took my hand.
Hope looked like she was asleep when we entered the room. Her little body was hooked up to so many machines. A breathing tube made the realization that she was in a coma and not technically asleep all too real. I had to tear my eyes away and focus solely on her sweet face. There was a bandage at the top right side of her forehead, and her arm was in a complex-looking brace. Her face was littered with small cuts, which the doctor said were likely from the shattered glass during the accident.