She rummaged around in the cabinets but didn’t find anything that resembled antacid. She did find some ibuprofen, so she shook out a few of the pills and poured a glass of milk from the fridge.
She returned to the living room and handed Frank the glass of milk.
“No antacid, but isn’t milk supposed to help? I got you some pain stuff. Maybe that’ll work.”
Frank smiled and took the medicine from her outstretched palm. “Thank you, Rusty. I’m sure this will do the trick.”
She shrugged and headed back to the couch to sit next to Marlene.
Family sitcoms were the worst. Watching dysfunctional people trying to be funny while appearing all happy happy was worse than watching paint dry. She knew all about dysfunction, and it didn’t go hand in hand with happy or funny.
She sighed and tuned out the laughs of the studio audience and wondered how long it took to save the world. A few days? Weeks? She’d ask Marlene how long, but it would only earn her another one of those motherly looks that made her cringe.
She turned when she heard Frank move. He sat forward in his chair, holding his arm. He looked pale and strained and he huffed for breath.
Alarmed, she glanced at Marlene, to see her staring at Frank as well.
“Frank,” Marlene said sharply. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing, Marlene. I just need to get up and move around. Feels like a damn elephant is sitting on my chest.”
He struggled to his feet and for a moment stood stock-still before he swayed. With a groan, he pitched forward and hit the floor with a thud.
Panic hit Rusty like a ton of bricks. She surged to her feet and screamed for Rio and Donovan at the top of her lungs.
Marlene threw herself onto the floor beside Frank at the same time Rusty scrambled over the coffee table to kneel beside him.
“Is he breathing?” Rusty asked fearfully. “Oh my God, is he dead?”
Before Marlene could respond, Rusty leaned her ear down to his chest, feeling for any movement. She reached a hand up to his neck. You were supposed to feel for a pulse, right?
He wasn’t moving. God, he wasn’t breathing. She didn’t think his chest was moving at all. She couldn’t feel a pulse, but her hands were shaking so bad that she doubted she could have felt one anyway.
Rio and Donovan burst into the room, one of the other men tailing them. They all had their guns up, but when they saw Frank on the floor and the two women surrounding him, they tossed the guns aside and rushed over.
Donovan shoved Rusty out of the way and immediately checked for breathing and a pulse. Rio bent next to him and tore open Frank’s shirt at the chest.
“He’s n-not breathing,” Rusty said.
Rio’s gaze found hers for just a moment, and she saw steady reassurance there. Then he doubled his hands and positioned them over Frank’s heart. Face drawn and pale, Donovan tilted Frank’s neck back, then leaned down and began mouth-to-mouth.
Marlene was on her knees, her face so white that it scared Rusty. She looked like she was in shock, and worse, there was such fear in her eyes that it hit Rusty in the gut like a punch.
“Marlene. Marlene!” Rio added the last more forcefully.
Marlene snapped to awareness and looked at Rio.
“Call 911. We have to get him to a hospital.”
Rusty started to shake. There wasn’t a part of her body that wasn’t trembling violently. Oh God, not Frank. No, no, no. Tears welled in her eyes and she wrapped both arms around herself in an effort to gain control.
Rio’s expression was grim as he and Donovan continued CPR. Donovan wouldn’t look in her or Marlene’s direction. His steadfast focus was on forcing air in and out of his father’s lungs. Marlene raced to the phone, and Rusty could dimly hear her relaying the situation to the dispatcher.
Only seconds later, Marlene returned and stood anxiously over the men. “They said an ambulance would be here in ten minutes.”
Donovan didn’t acknowledge her. He kept on with the breaths.
The wait was the worst Rusty had ever endured in her life. It was like a bad video that was stuck in a replay loop. It didn’t seem real. It couldn’t be real. This wasn’t happening. She couldn’t lose Frank. He believed in her. No one else believed in her.
When the paramedics finally arrived, they had to force Donovan away. It was a blur. There was a tube and needles. Lines and a machine. When they paused in CPR to check for a rhythm and the thin, red, flat line streamed across the monitor, Rusty lost it.
“No!”
She threw herself forward and shoved the paramedic out of the way. She hugged Frank to her, sobbing, her heart breaking.
“No,” she cried hysterically. “You can’t leave me. Please don’t leave me. You can’t die.”
Rio plucked her off, and she kicked and fought him until he wrapped both arms around her and held her immobile. The medics quickly wheeled Frank out of the room to the waiting ambulance, and when Marlene would have followed Donovan, Rio’s man gently reined her in.
“Listen to me, Rusty,” Rio said in a low voice next to her ear. “He’s not gone. Not yet. They can save him. You have to believe that. You can’t give up on him. He’ll know.”
Tears ran down her cheeks. She’d never felt so lost in her life. Not when her stupid mother ran out on her. Not when her asshole stepfather made her life miserable. Not when she’d tried to turn tricks just to find a way out of her life.
“Rio, why can’t I go with him?” Marlene asked in a stricken voice. “Where are they taking him? I need to be with him. I need to be with Donovan.”
Rio gently set Rusty down on the couch and took the seat beside her. He cupped her cheek even as tears splashed over the back of his hand. He glanced over at Marlene.
“My job is to keep you safe. All of you. I’ll take you to the hospital. But we’ll do this right. You go with me. You don’t go anywhere without me. Understood?”
Marlene nodded numbly, her eyes glazed with fear and grief. Then she crossed the room and sat down next to Rusty, pulling her into her arms.
Rusty hugged her fiercely and buried her face against her breast. All moms needed to smell like Marlene. Warm and comforting. Rusty’s only experience with mothers’ smells was one of alcohol and stale cigarette smoke.
“Shhh,” Marlene said as she rocked Rusty back and forth. “He’s a fighter, Rusty. All the Kellys are. It’ll take more than a heart attack to put Frank down. He’s survived worse.”