Free Mind F*ck by Kimber S. Dawn Page A

ambulance couldn’t find a pulse.” I hear OnStar connect and ring, “Like I said, the ambulance dispatcher called twice while you were on the phone with Mr. Travis, would you like me to reconnect you to them?”
    Drake is in his mid-thirties. His dad was my dad’s right hand, and his grandfather was my grandfather’s before that. And now Drake is following in their footsteps.
    The phone rings and I hear Drake repeating, “Sir?” But I can’t respond. My brain won’t make the connection with my muscles to move, to speak, to react.
    “Ambulance 301, do you copy? This is 301.”
    Drake speaks for me, “Yes, I have Mr. Dean in route. Where are you, 301?” After some static, I hear loud counting in the background and beeping. Then static, “Pulling in. Condition unknown.”
    Their words circle, getting so loud the second time I can’t hear Drake’s reply, and then silence ricochets its way through the town car again.
    “Pulling in. Condition unknown.”
    “What’s that mean? What the hell does that mean?” I sputter, thumbing through my contacts on my phone. “Head to whatever hospital they’re at, Drake. What time is my father’s plane supposed to land?” I ask.
    “It landed a little more than an hour ago, Mr. Dean.”
    I glance up at him in the rearview mirror and hit my father’s number, dialing him, “Thanks,” I tell him.
    Why was my wife bleeding in the bathtub an hour ago? Why wasn’t I immediately notified? Charles or fucking Mary couldn’t take a break from chaos and call? An hour ago.
    An hour ago?
    “Dean,” my father answer’s.
    “Father, hope you’re settling in. How was your flight?” I hurry through the casualties, mentally making the connection. Had I been notified, none— none of the last hour would’ve occurred. None of it.
    “I am. It was quite fine. Are you working late tonight?”
    “No, I’m actually off for the remainder of the day, however, Lexy has had an accident.” I clear my throat, preparing to tell my father he’s… he was going to be a grandfather. “Hopefully her and our child are alright. I’m heading to the hospital now. But I’ll keep you posted. As for dinner tonight, I’m afraid Lexy will probably be unable to make it. I should be there, though. Don’t fret.” I know my father. Too well. And if he’s in town, he’ll expect to be greeted. If not by both Lexy and I, then by one of us. And it’s not because of his health issues, it’s his pride that demands these expectations of me.
    “Ah. Very well. Keep me updated. I’m uncertain whether or not to congratulate just yet, so I’ll wait. I hope all is well, son. See you at eight.”
    And that’s all that’s said between father and son. That’s the conversation.
    But the only thing running through my mind is…I don’t know what the hell just happened to my entire damned world in the last seven minutes, but it was the fastest any man has ever fallen, I’m fucking certain of it. And had Mary done what the hell I paid her to do, not a single minute of the seven would’ve happened.

Our mind is fucked.
    If what I experienced was the end, and that’s the place we all go to when we die, then our minds are all fucked and so are we.
    After my time in Hell, there was a moment of fractured purgatory where I felt suspended. Then…I don’t know, I guess I woke up.
    I was cold, so much fucking colder than I’d ever felt before. I was so cold, I shivered under layers of clothes and even more blankets and comforters. I stay cold. Hell, I stayed cold. I shivered over a month after losing my baby girl.
    Familiar pangs beat against my chest.
    The pain is almost like a blanket to me now.
    The first few weeks were hard. The last few days though, have seemed better.
    I did walk today. Outside.
    The March chill still has its hold on New York, as well as my bones. I huddle tighter into a ball as I hear Mary come into my room. “Upsie daisy. None of this pouting. I’ve let you rest. Now up you go. Shower