Rage

by Michelle Pace

  blinked at his mother’s question in surprise. There was a palpa-

  ble collective tension amongst all present.

  “Steph’s four years younger than Cedric, Mum.” Phillip’s

  tone was cautionary, and Steph’s attention shot to him. He ap-

  peared to be communicating with his mother using only his eyes.

  “How—” Steph was about to ask how Emily knew what

  Cedric looked like when she saw her father and brother come

  through the entrance at the far end of the hall. She gawked at

  them and unceremoniously yanked her hand from Phillip’s. She

  felt him touching the small of her back as she stared in disbelief while her family joined Phillip’s.

  “Dad?” She mumbled in disbelief as he pulled her into a

  hug. For the first time that day. she didn’t feel short, since her shoes made him look an inch shorter. She was happy and

  shocked to see him. She hadn’t seen him in person in weeks be-

  cause of her trip to Japan and Men’s Fashion Week in Paris.

  “Bonnie.” He replied. His childhood nickname momentarily

  soothed her, but he regarded her with a disconcerting frown. She 25

  TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE

  knitted her brows, and her eyes shifted to Cedric. He wore his

  black clerical suit and vest with his white collar, always the show stealer. He cocked his head to the side and gave her a grim,

  knowing look. Like Phillip’s mom before him, he seemed to be

  trying to communicate telepathically. Unfortunately, Steph had

  never had lessons in that particular dialect. She frowned at him with a puzzled shrug.

  “What are you two doing here?” She chuckled as the words

  tumbled from her lips giving her question a crass quality. She

  felt Phillip’s hands on her shoulders and noticed all eyes seemed to be on him. She turned to look up at him, and he clasped one of her hands between his.

  “Stephanie. I’ve asked my family here today because this is

  the most important day of my life. I invited yours because I hope you’ll feel the same. I’ve never met anyone like you before, and I know I won’t again.” With each word he spoke, Steph felt like

  someone was pushing down on the gas pedal that controlled her

  pulse. Her stomach dropped like she was on a roller coaster

  when she saw Nanna pull out a tissue and dab her eyes. She

  knew how much it meant to him to have her meet his parents.

  She was well aware of how private he was and how protective of

  his family he was. She felt her whole world slipping away on the current of his determination. Part of her wanted to slap him on

  the shoulder and tell him to stop joking around, but the other part (the part that knew he wasn’t playing) wanted to flail her fists on his chest and yell at him that he was about to ruin everything.

  When he dropped to one knee before her, she felt as if a

  noose tightened around her throat. He paused, and his features

  transformed; Phillip, whose front- man swagger landed him on

  the cover of Rolling Stone, looked petrified. It was at that mo-

  ment that Steph realized she loved him. Selflessly, painfully loved him. Because she was torn between horror and sorrow at

  what he was about to do to them. He had his finger firmly plant-

  ed on the button that would nuke their relationship, and she un-

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  RAGE

  derstood he didn’t know her well enough to realize it. The cramp in Steph’s side reappeared with a vengeance, and she felt sweat

  rolling down her neck. Pain in her shoulder that she assumed was from the impossibly tense situation caused her to reach up and

  grasp at it. Unable to breathe or make a sound, she simply locked eyes with Phillip.

  He pulled out a ring box and popped it open, presenting it to

  her. His vulnerable expression touched a nerve. Phillip was al-

  ways confident, but for the first time she was seeing genuine fear flicker across his face, and watching his cockiness evaporate

  made it hard for her to breathe. An astoundingly large marquis

  cut diamond caught the light. “More than anything in the world,

  love, I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

  As her eyes flitted from his earnest face to the ring, some-

  one dimmed the lights in the room. Why the hell would they do

  that at a time like this? She blinked slowly, feeling suddenly

  sleepy. Her legs felt like rubber.

  “Steffy?” Cedric hadn’t called her that nickname in years.

  He sounded like he was yelling right in her ear, and he sounded

  very upset.

  “Bloody hell! She’s going to faint!” Linda shrieked, and for

  Stephanie, the world went black.

  27

  CHAPTER THREE

  The setting sun cast the waiting room in an azure glow.

  Phillip caught sight of a man packing cigarettes and leaving for the exit. He chased him down like a heroine junkie and begged

  him to buy one off him. Sadly, the man recognized him and with

  stunned awe handed him the entire pack. Phillip took it and

  thanked him, stuffing one-hundred-pound note into the man’s

  breast pocket. Outside, he paced with a vengeance. Helplessness

  consumed him. It seemed impossible that just that morning he

  had stroked Stephanie’s angelic cheek while she slept next to

  him. And now, for all he knew she could be dying. and he was

  forbidden to see her.

  Yes, he’d made some bad calls. When Steph first passed

  out, he was sure—from his expert knowledge of girls fainting in

  his presence—that she’d merely swooned. But when Cedric

  slapping her across the face didn’t get her to open her eyes, he literally felt his heart stop. Linda shouted that her pulse was way too fast and began barking directions. For minutes he stood mute and useless while everyone around him sprang into action. It was all a bit of a blur, but certain key moments jumped out at him.

  Adam felt Steph’s forehead and demanded someone call 911,

  Cedric asking if she was taking anything and if she’d eaten any-

  thing today. Danielle and his mother ran back and forth getting

  blankets and pillows. Adam and Cedric left the room to hunt for

  a thermometer. His own dad placed a cool cloth on Steph’s fore-

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  RAGE

  head and assured him that she’d be “just fine”.

  Grandad came into the room, phone in hand, and said he’d

  called for an ambulance to take her to Portloais. That’s when he finally found his voice.

  “No. No way in hell. You always said you’d never send one

  of the horses to Portloais.” He snapped.

  “Phillip! I’m seeing all the signs of shock here,” Linda

  barked like a drill sergeant as she wrapped Stephanie with a

  blanket. The unnatural way she flopped in Linda’s arms like a

  life-sized Raggedy Ann doll caused his hands to tremble. “We

  have to keep her warm. She needs a doctor immediately.”

  “Right. Preferably one who didn’t graduate last in his

  class,” he yelled at her then realized he was wasting precious

  time. He shoved Linda aside and picked Stephanie up, blanket

  and all.

  “Phillip. You should wait for the medics,” Nanna wailed,

  but he didn’t even slow his step.

  “I’m taking her to Tullamore. I can be there before the am-

  bulance even gets here.” He was at the door, and after fixing

  Danielle with a menacing look, she mutely flun
g it open for him.

  “I’m coming with you,” Linda demanded as she chased him

  down the steps.

  He didn’t remember much about the drive except the police

  trying to pull them over just outside of the city. He blew by as if they were standing still and didn’t give them a second glance.

  Linda spent the entire drive turned all the way around in her seat.

  Stephanie was lying in the back, deathly pale, wrapped in the

  blanket like a burrito. Linda had insisted on propping three pillows under her ankles for some reason that still eluded him, but she’d had many first aid classes while he’d been wasting his time in poetry, so he deferred to her judgment. He stole one glance at her in the rearview mirror and knew he couldn’t look back at her again until they reached their destination or he’d completely lose it.

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  TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE

  A team of medics met them with a gurney at the entrance.

  He later learned that Danielle had called ahead of them. The po-

  lice pulled in behind him, but Phillip was already chasing

  Steph’s gurney into the building shouting at the staff. Linda

  practically tackled him.

  “Phillip! Go and talk to the coppers. I’ll explain to the nurs-

  es what’s going on,” She insisted. Just like that, the situation was plucked from his hands.

  The police were unbelievably cool, all things considered.

  After a stern talking to and agreeing to pose for a photo with

  them (so they could prove they’d met him to their girlfriends),

  they let him off with a warning. Sometimes being famous had its

  perks.

  Linda soon resurfaced with two cups of coffee. “They said

  it sounds like she had a hot appendix that burst. They’re prep-

  ping her now for emergency surgery.” Phillip had blanched at

  the word surgery. He’d known something was terribly wrong

  with her, but the mental image of someone slicing into her

  caused him to cover his eyes with his palms as if somehow he

  could block the vision from his mind. He desperately wanted to

  smoke at that moment. Unfortunately, Cedric and Adam arrived

  along with his parents, and he had more pressing problems than

  his cravings.

  “You ignorant punk!” Adam shouted, shoving him more vi-

  olently than he would have thought possible. “You could have

  killed her with your thoughtless cavalier bullshit.”

  “Dad!” Cedric’s volume was loud, but his voice was calm

  and collected. Adam didn’t even glance in his direction. If looks could kill, Phillip would have been hangin’ with St. Peter, as

  Steph would say. The force of Adam’s right cross snapped Phil-

  lip’s head back, knocking him into a potted tree behind him. His coffee splattered all over the window next to him. Linda gasped, and Phillip’s hand shot to his aching jaw. He gawked at Steph’s

  father in surprise. Both Cedric and his father grabbed Adam and

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  RAGE

  pulled him back, restraining him.

  “Can’t be bothered to wait for the professionals? What if

  she had crashed on the way here? You could have killed my little girl.” Adam shouted menacingly at him, spittle flying everywhere.

  “Dad! Phillip got her here, and she’s getting the help she needs.” Cedric’s delivery carried throughout the waiting room,

  and Adam stopped struggling against them.

  “Please, everyone just calm down.” His mother cried as she

  stepped between them as if she were capable of defending him. It was at that moment that a man in scrubs and a cap approached

  them as if oblivious to the altercation taking place before him.

  “Which one of you is Stephanie Brier’s next of kin?” The

  gravity in his commanding voice cut like shards of glass. Phillip felt his stomach plummet to his feet.

  “I’m her father. This is her brother.” Adam gestured to

  Cedric as he snapped to attention like the doctor was his drill

  sergeant.

  “I’m her fiancé.” Phillip interjected and Adam spun on him.

  “No you’re not. She never answered you!” His hostile eyes

  pained Phillip. He knew Adam could be wildly protective of

  Steph, and it dawned on him that Steph’s mother’s death was the

  result of a car accident. He’d been driving like a maniac to get her here alive. He knew Adam had every right to be upset with

  him, but Phillip couldn’t believe that he thought he’d do any-

  thing to intentionally jeopardize her well-being.

  “Follow me.” The surgeon’s eyes flit between them so

  quickly and decisively that it was almost imperceptible. Adam

  strode after him, and Cedric hobbled closely behind-cane in

  hand. The three men disappeared behind security doors. That had

  been four long hours ago, and he hadn’t seen them since.

  He choked on the harsh smoke as his lungs acclimated to

  inhaling for the first time in months. His head immediately

  buzzed as the tobacco and other essential poisons flooded him.

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  TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE

  When the first news van pulled up, he wasn’t the least bit sur-

  prised.

  “Phillip! Mr. Kersey.” The reporter shouted from the street.

  Phillip flicked his cigarette in their direction and turned to walk back inside. The sight of Adam Brier standing in his path

  stopped him in his tracks. Adam looked ten years older than he

  had just a few hours before and a bit lost.

  “Do you have any more of those?” he asked Phillip, pulling

  a flask out from an inside pocket of his jacket. Phillip pulled the cigarettes and matches from his pocket and handed them to him.

  “Where’s Cedric?” His own voice sounded horse and hol-

  low. He was afraid of what Adam’s answer might be.

  “He’s with Bonnie. She’s out of surgery. They say she’s

  stable.” Adam replied and lit a cigarette, inhaling heavily. Phillip felt a tidal wave of relief crash over him. Stable. It was a heavenly word.

  “Why do you call her Bonnie?” Phillip asked. It was proba-

  bly an odd question at a time like that. Based on the way Adam

  paused mid drag, he obviously thought so. He proceeded to in-

  hale again deeply and passed his flask to Phillip who took an

  obnoxiously large swig.

  “I wanted to name her Bonnie. It’s a family name. Her

  mother wanted Stephanie-after Stevie Nicks. So we compro-

  mised like all good married couples. She got her way. Bonnie

  became her middle name.”

  Phillip nodded and took another swig of whisky, letting the

  burn cauterize his narrowed throat.

  “Can I see her?” He sounded like a frightened child and

  didn’t care. Adam fixed him with a hard look. Whatever he saw

  while looking Phillip over seemed to soften him. He nodded.

  “They are about to move her from recovery to her room.

  Then you can see her.”

  He barely had the last word out before Phillip took off for

  the entrance.

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  RAGE

  “I’m still pissed at you, you little bastard!” Adam called af-

  ter him.

  Steph stared at the crooked picture on the wall. It was ugly

  as hell, and she wanted to chuck her pitcher of ice water at it, but even blinking hurt. So she had nothing to do but study the shitty picture and think about what the surgeon had just told them.

&n
bsp; They’d cut her open and taken her right fallopian tube. It had

  ruptured and she’d had profuse internal bleeding. By the time

  they figured out it wasn’t her appendix, they’d had to give her

  two pints of blood. She was currently getting a third, along with antibiotics, fluids, and enough pain meds to fuck up even Uncle

  Keith.

  She hadn’t had a clue she was pregnant. Taking birth con-

  trol pills usually prevents shit like that—at least for normal folks.

  As usual, she had to be the statistical anomaly. Eight weeks

  pregnant, they estimated based on the size of the fetus. The doctor said she might still be able to have children, but it would be riskier for her than other women. He said the other tube looked

  normal, so it was unlikely that an STD that had caused the ectop-ic pregnancy. A fairly impressive factoid, considering her last

  two boyfriends were a philandering movie star and a British rock god. Just another statistical anomaly, she supposed. Doc said

  they had run additional tests to be 100% sure.

  Super.

  All this joyful news was delivered in the surgeon’s oddly

  cheerful Irish brogue. “Your baby wasn’t viable and ye were in

  hypovolemic shock. Do ya have me Lucky Charms?” Steph

  chuckled at her own crazy thoughts and pressed her pillow firm-

  ly to her abdomen when the pain reminded her to. Yep—no

  doubt about it. She was indeed tripping balls.

  But then the doctor mentioned that her father had consented

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  TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE

  to have the fetus sent off for genetic testing while she was still under sedation. The results would be back in a week to ten days.

  This was a sobering mental image. She wondered if her baby

  was in a jar of formaldehyde somewhere waiting for Fed Ex. She

  wanted very badly to see it and wondered if this pressing desire was morbid or normal. It was all too much to think about. She

  squeezed the button and felt a small burning rush as more pain

  meds flooded her bloodstream. She could feel Cedric’s eyes on

  her, and with herculean effort she turned her head an inch to look at him.

  “What?” She croaked, momentarily distracted by the beep-

  ing of her heart monitor. The blood pressure cuff squeezed her

  arm so hard that she winced.