Sarah

I gape at the doctor, trying to wrap my head around what she’d just said. “I don’t understand.”

Dr. Chisolm comes around her desk and sits on the edge, directly in front of me. “The easiest way for me to explain it is, Millie’s leukemia did not respond well to the initial treatment. Her cancer cells are still present and increasing.”

My stomach rolls. I don’t know that I ever really considered what I’d do if Millie’s treatment wasn’t successful. When I’d first found out about her cancer, I’d kind of checked out. In my shock, I’d missed half of what the doctor had said. Thankfully, Bosco had listened closely and was able to explain everything once I’d calmed myself.

This time, though, there’s no Bosco. There’s only me, and Millie is counting on me to deal with this. Taking a deep breath, I straighten in my seat. “What do we do?”

“At this point, Millie is in need of a bone marrow rescue. You might have heard of it called a transplant. We need to find a donor with a matching HLA, or human leukocyte antigen tissue type. Typically, this comes from a relative, most commonly a sibling. We will, of course, test your HLA type and search the donor registry, but if you know anyone that can donate, we need to get them tested as soon as possible. This isn’t something that can wait.”

“It’s just me,” I say softly, my heart sinking to the floor. “I’m her only family.”

Her hand comes down and covers mine. “No need to panic. There’s still a strong possibility we’ll find a match from the registry. My interns are already searching. In the meantime, we’re going to get Millie admitted and keep an eye on her levels. I’ll send a technician up to take a cheek swab from you, okay?”

All I can do is nod and stand, following the doctor out into the waiting room where Millie is playing with a hospital volunteer and two other little girls, one of whom has a perfectly rounded bald head.

“We’ll get a room ready for her and send for you in a few minutes,” she says, and then she’s out of sight. For several minutes, I just sit and watch Millie as she plays with the two girls, her piercing giggle ringing around the room. All three of them are smiling and happy, not fully realizing what the word cancer means to their mortality. They’re children. They live in the moment, not letting the ‘what ifs’ affect their happiness.

Loneliness washes over me as I wrap my arms across my chest, hugging myself to keep the ache of fear inside. For a split second, I have a mental debate about calling Bosco and telling him the news, but after what had happened with us the other night, I know that I can’t do that. I can’t tell him to go one minute, and then call him to come running the second things go wrong. That’s not fair to him.

Needing more than anything, just to hear a friendly voice, I call the one person I know that will listen. The phone only rings once before Laynie picks it up. “Hey, girl!”

Her happiness at hearing my name through her call display is sweet, but I have to bite down on my lip to keep from crying. “Laynie? I...uh...I’m at the hospital with Millie.”

“Talk to me,” she says, giving me her full attention.

My eyes fall back to my daughter as she passes a Play-Doh cookie to another little girl. “It’s not good. Her chemo didn’t do what they thought it would, so before they do another round, it looks like Millie is gonna need a bone marrow transplant.”

Laynie lets out a long, slow breath. “Okay. So, what do we do?”

God bless her. “We need to find a donor.”

“On it,” she says firmly. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Don’t panic, babe. There’s a donor out there somewhere and we’re going to find them.”

Bosco

Thwomp! The heavy sand bag bounces on the chain it’s hanging from as I slam my taped fist into it. Thwomp! Thwomp!

It’s been three days since Sarah unceremoniously kicked me out of her house, and I haven’t spoken to, nor heard from her since. I’m worried about Millie, and dying to know how she’s doing now that she’s home. I know that today was the day she was supposed to go back to the hospital to have her levels checked. When they’d released her the other day, I assumed I’d be going to that appointment too.

Thwomp!

I told Sarah I’d give her time, but I don’t know how much more time I have in me to give. Thwomp! I’ve been so fucking patient about starting shit with her. I’ve bought her groceries. Thwomp! Paid her bills. Thwomp!

And it’s not like I even want anything for any of that shit. I’d done it because I wanted to. Thwomp! But to just cut me out like this, when Millie’s so sick? Thwomp! That shit is just not okay. Thwomp!

“Dude, you’re bleedin’ all over the bag.”

I whip around to see Jase walking into the gym, but he’s not wearing his workout gear. Looking down, I flex my fingers and see that he’s right. My taping job didn’t even bother holding up against my vicious attack on the sand bag. Blood is smeared across my knuckles and onto the white of the binding I’d used. The bag itself has bright red blood mashed into the weave of the fabric from my last several hits.

“You cool?” he asks, his trademark smirk nowhere to be seen.

“I’m fine. I’ll get this shit cleaned up.”

Jase watches me for a moment. “You get Ryker’s text?”

I look over to my bag, where my phone rests on top of my clothes. Stalking toward it, I scoop it up and touch the home button. Sure enough, there’s an incoming text from Ryker.

Ryker: 911. Meet at the children’s hospital asap.

All thoughts of my now stinging knuckles disappear as I feel the blood drain from my face. Snapping my head back to Jase, I grab up my things, ready to run from the room.

Jase raises both hands and steps in front of the door. “Relax. She’s okay.”

“Get outta my way, man,” I breathe, ready to knock his ass out if that’s what it takes to get him away from the door.

“You need to calm down, Bos. She’s okay. You can’t go walkin’ into a hospital for kids lookin’ like you just went ten rounds in a goddamn cage match. You’ll scare the shit outta poor Millie.”

I look down at myself and realize he has a point. I’m drenched in sweat, blood covers my hands and is splattered across my shirt. There’s no mirror around, but I can only imagine what my face looks like right now. It likely reflects the fear I’m feeling for Millie at any rate.

“Shower,” Jase orders. “Clean your shit up and we’ll ride over together. Ryk says we all need to take some sort of test or somethin’, to see if we’re a match for the kid.”

“What kinda match?”

Jase lifts his shoulders in a relaxed shrug, clearly trying to ease my mind. “No clue. Just go clean up and we’ll find out together.”

I slip past him and down the hall to the room I keep here at the clubhouse. I rarely use it. Since I don’t party like most of these guys, I’ve never actually slept here. I mostly use it to store shit that doesn’t fit in my little room at Mrs. Munns, and to shower after my workouts.

I take the quickest shower known to man and slip into a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Jase is waiting in the common area at the bar. As I pass him, his hand comes up and grabs my arm. “Just wanted to say, no matter what happens with the kid, we’re here for you.”

I glare at him. “Nothing is going to fucking happen with Millie.”

“I didn’t say it would, man. I just wanted to say that we have your back. Every one of us here knows you love that little girl like she’s your own. So, no matter what, we’re here. Yeah?”

Despite the fact he’s even entertaining the possibility that things with Millie could go badly, his message is not lost on me. Just yesterday, Jase had heard my retelling of what happened with Spencer. He knew how lost and alone I was after he died. Jase, in his own awkward way, is letting me know that I won’t be alone like that again.