Careless(7)

I smile at her. “No. I’m bored out of my mind. I need to keep busy.”

Evie gets up. “I’m going to shower. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. Willow said she’s going out with Marcus so she’ll be late tonight. Her battery died so she couldn’t message you. I’m going to meet Rhett, Carter, and Logan for a drink if you want to join us.”

With my luck, Jaxson will be there.

“No thanks, I’ll watch a movie until Willow gets back.”

“You have my number if you change your mind.”

“Thanks, Evie.”

I grab the remote for the TV and channel surf until Evie comes out of her room. She’s dressed in a tight shirt and flowing skirt which reaches all the way to her sandals.

“You look pretty.”

“Thanks. You sure you don’t want to come?” she asks again.

“I’m sure.” I stretch out on the couch, making myself comfortable. “Have fun.”

I flick through the channels until a documentary about unexplained deaths catches my attention.

I must have dozed off because I’m woken by my phone vibrating on the coffee table as the shrill ringtone echoes through the apartment.

I press the phone to my ear as I push strands of hair away from my face. I glance around the living room to see if there’s anything lying around that I can use to tie my hair.

“Hello.” Sounding groggy, I clear my throat.

“Leigh, it’s Dad.”

“Hey, Dad. I was going to call you tomorrow.”

I rub my eyes and suppress a yawn. Who knew doing nothing all day long could be so tiring.

“You have to come home, sweetheart.”

Relief washes over me. Thank God for answered prayers. Now I just have to convince them to allow me to sit in on their surgeries. They shouldn’t have a problem with it, seeing as I’ll be in the gallery.

“That’s why I was going to call. I’m bored out of my mind. Do you think I can sit in on your surgeries as an observer? I promise I won’t get in the way.”

A shuddering breath from Dad fills my ears. He must’ve had a long day.

“Dad? Is everything okay?”

“Sweetheart… it’s your mom. She had an accident.”

I dart up from the couch as my hand flies to my mouth in shock. Worry for Mom pours through my body and settles like a rock in the pit of my stomach.

“Is she okay? What kind of accident? How bad are her injuries? Was she taken to a hospital?” I look at the time and see that it’s already past nine pm. “I can try to get a flight out tonight still.”

“Leigh, I want you to listen to me. I’ll book a flight for you for first thing in the morning. Stay with Willow until I collect you from the apartment.”

“I don’t mind coming home tonight. I want to be there for Mom.”

“She didn’t make it, sweetheart,” he rasps as his breaths falter.

I frown, and the words don’t sink in. For the first time in my life, I can’t get my mind to understand what he’s trying to say.

“What do you mean? She didn’t make it to the hospital yet? Are they still on route?”

Icy fingers claw their way into my chest and grip my heart as the seconds slowly creep by. My worry morphs into panic and fear when Dad takes too long to respond.

“Leigh, she didn’t…” His words trail away as a sob bursts from him.

I close my eyes as a cold sensation spreads over my body until it feels as if my whole body has been submerged in ice. Pins and needles creep over my skull as the realization slams into my gut.

“Say it, Dad,” I croak.

My throat closes up, and I gasp like a fish as I try to force air into my lungs.

“You have to say it. You told me it’s the first thing they taught you. You have to say the words.”

A grief-stricken sound fills my ear, and it robs me of the precious air in my lungs. My chest tightens as if my ribs are trying to form a cocoon of safety around my heart, to protect it from the fateful blow that’s coming.

“Your mom’s dead, Leigh,” he brokenly forces the words out.

I close my eyes as I listen to Dad’s anguished cries.

My eyes remain dry as the inevitability of what Dad just told me engulfs my mind. The shock is still too fresh. It hasn’t hit me fully yet.

Shock and denial. Pain and guilt. Anger and bargaining. Depression. Acceptance.

I repeat the stages of grief over and over.

My mind stops at shock. Shock hits first before denial strikes. Shock. My mind races to retrieve everything I know about shock.

Inability to move.

I blink and place my free hand over my stomach.

General pains.

My stomach is aching. It’s a weird sensation and one I haven’t felt before. It feels like I’ve swallowed burning logs.

I keep working through the facts as I try to keep my mind focused on substantiated data.

Feelings of heaviness.

That explains why I can’t make my body move faster. It feels as if time is suspended while I’m touching a live wire.

Dad clears his throat. “Please stay with Willow. I don’t want you traveling tonight, not while you’re in shock. I’ll fly to North Carolina and meet you at the apartment. I’ll bring you home, sweetheart. Can you do that for me? Can you wait until morning?”

“I’ll wait, Daddy,” I whisper, knowing it’s what he needs to hear. “I’ll wait here for you.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wish I could come through right now. I need to…”

“I understand, Daddy. You need to process your own shock. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll be okay.” I look around the empty apartment as I lie, “Willow is here with me. I’m not alone.”

After we’ve said goodbye, I dial Willow’s number. I need her to come home.

When it goes straight to her answering machine, I end the call.

I close my eyes as a devastating wave of hopeless anguish hits me.

I need to scream, or cry. I need to let the acute agony and shock out, but I don’t know how.

I start to pace while shoving my hands into my hair.

Keep moving.

“Myocarditis,” I whisper as I start to recite facts. “Inflammatory disease… ”

I grab fistfuls of my hair as a scream builds in my throat, but no sound comes out, only a gasp of air.

“Process it,” I whimper. “Understand what has happened.”

Birth and death is the natural order of life.

Death.

Dead.

Mom’s dead.

My mother is dead.

“Oh God.” I start to gasp for air as my stomach drops, leaving my heart to free-fall until it shatters at my feet.

I need Willow. Evie said she’s with Marcus. She must be at the guys’ house. If she isn’t then maybe one of the guys can call Marcus and ask him to bring her home for me.

I run from the apartment as I dial her number again, praying she’ll answer. I keep reaching her voicemail, and I only stop trying when I reach the house.





Chapter 4



JAXSON





I know Logan talks to Mom. Just because I don’t want anything to do with her, I don’t expect him to not have contact with her. I hate that she asks him to give messages to me.

As he ends the call, I know what’s coming.

“Mom sends her love. She says she misses you.”

My eyes snap to Logan. “Do you actually believe that shit?”

Logan shoves his phone into the back pocket of his jeans, avoiding eye contact with me.

“I think she cares,” he says.

“Look at me and then repeat the lie,” I grind the words out.

His eyes meet mine, and I hate that they’re filled with sadness.

“I really believe she cares. She’ll come back.”

I bite my bottom lip so I don’t say anything else that will upset Logan. It’s not his fault. He doesn’t know her the way I do.

“Are you going out?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Yeah, I’m already late. I’m meeting Rhett and Carter for a drink. You want to come?”

“Nah, I’m just going to hang at home.”

Opening the front door, Logan glances at me from over his shoulder.

“I love you, Jaxson. Not because you’re my brother, but because you always look out for me. I know what Mom did. I know you protected Marcus and me. You have a right to hate her, and I’m sorry that I can’t.”

She doesn’t deserve Logan’s love.

“I love you, Logan. Don’t worry about that shit. What she did is between her and me.”

He gives me a chin lift and shuts the door behind him.

The moment I hear his car pull out of the driveway, I throw the bottle of beer I’ve been nursing. It crashes against the wall, and I watch the liquid trickle down the white paint.

“I fucking hate you, Judy West,” I growl.

I’m glad I’m alone at home as wave after wave of anger, wash over me. I drop to the floor and start to do sit-ups. Exercising is the only way I can calm down.

I’m busy with push-ups when someone bangs on the door.

“I’m coming,” I shout as the incessant hammering continues. Yanking the door open, I snap, “You don’t have to fucking break it.”

“Willow,” Leigh forces the word out as if her throat is closing up, which immediately grabs my attention.

Her face is ghostly pale, and she’s shivering as if she’s freezing, while it’s hot as hell tonight. I glance at the rest of her body to see if she’s hurt anywhere, and that’s when I notice she’s barefoot.