Twisted Tides (Forged Hearts #2)

Prologue

Prologue

I sit in the waiting room surrounded by my friends and Brodie’s family, watching the hospital staff going in and out through the operating room doors, hoping for an update on what happened after Brodie was rushed into the OR.

Another patient is being moved down the hall on a hospital bed, an IV bag of fluids dripping in sync with the beeping monitor as he passes by. Every sound is intensified, every smell more potent.

Dax is by my side. His thumb rubs circles in a continuous soothing manner on the top of my hand. The rhythmic motion settles me as the weight of his calloused fingers offers me the stability my hand needs not to shake. The fact that he hasn’t left my side speaks volumes about his character. The way he handled the situation at the beach. The authoritarian personality and calm with which he controlled the situation—the accident. If I weren’t so shell-shocked, I would have been turned on. If it had not been Brodie there on the wet sand, limp and unconscious. If a million things were different.

Brodie’s parents are here. It’s a stressful time for all of us without dealing with the awkwardness of his parents’ divorce and the bitterness between the two parties. His dad must have flown down the interstate to get here in record time.

Everyone sits in silence, waiting to hear the outcome of Brodie’s surgery. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, a man wearing blue scrubs accompanied by a female in similar attire exits the operating room doors and asks for his family. His parents walk down the hall and stand within view to receive the much-awaited results. It’s as if time stands still, and it’s so silent you can hear a pin drop. Except for the steps on the freshly waxed, tiled floor, no other sound exists.

The surgeon speaks, and then Brodie’s mom raises her hands to her mouth and a sob escapes, relinquishing a terrible cry of pain. Brodie’s dad just shakes his hands around, asking spitfire questions, not allowing a moment’s pause for an answer. The surgeon just shakes his head in acknowledgment. His dad puts his hands up to his eyes and lowers his head. The surgeon touches his shoulder and says something to them before walking back to our group. I rise from my chair as though I am being pulled toward this invisible force.

As I stand, the surgeon stops at our group and says, “Is there a Liv here?”

I stare, stunned and unable to speak. I feel a nudge from my side.

The surgeon begins to speak, and I don’t hear what he says. He repeats, “Brodie is awake and was asking for you specifically. He wants to see you.”

I gasp. A breath let out that I didn't realize I was holding as it rushes out. I feel Dax bring my hand to his lips and gently kiss it. The heat of his mouth makes me shudder. He releases my hand without saying a word, telling me to go. I follow the doctor without looking back. I know he won’t be there when I return to the waiting room. This is goodbye.