I ran to him and scooped him into my arms. He clutched my neck in a stranglehold, his eyes wide. Desperate. "Help her, Tana. Help her."
"I will." I walked back toward our house and the detective fell into step beside me. Condescending. More questions. He thought I knew something I wasn't telling.
"Fuck off," I said, and kept walking, my steps keeping time with my brother's wailing. Inside the house, I closed the door. The quietness in the living room, the awful blanketing silence was smothering. I slid, still holding Mark, to the floor. He buried his face in my neck. From my position, I could see the uneaten supper on the table. Waiting for the salad dressing.
I choked down my own hysteria. "Everything will be okay, Mark."
His sobs grew louder. "I want Mom."
I leaned back and forced a smile as I cupped the sides of his face. "Why don't I take you to a friend's house and I'll go talk to Mom. I'll see when she'll be able to come home, okay?" Smoothing back his wet hair, I kissed his forehead. "Hey, have I ever let you down before?"
He shook his head and wary hope began construction in his eyes. "No." He ran his palm under the edge of his nose.
I struggled to stand with his weight. "You want to go to Will's house?"
Mark shook his head. "His games suck."
"Then Jason's house it is." I picked up my phone to call Jason's mom and saw I'd missed several calls from Ryan. I ignored them. I couldn't deal with what had happened between us on top of this.
RYAN
Tana wouldn't answer her phone. When I arrived at her house, I knocked on the door until my knuckles were raw but there was no answer. I leaned my forehead against the siding and yelled her name. Silence. I shivered when the wind blew a gust of rain across the porch and the water hit the back of my neck. The neighbor across the street had filled us in on what happened to Tana's mom. "Chanos is going to pay for this," I said.
Juvante's hand gripped my shoulder.
Lifting my head, I stared at him. He had to know as much as I did that this was my fault. Chanos hitting Rat. My brothers taking the drugs. Tana's mom lying in a hospital. It was because of me that Chanos had touched their lives. More than getting his drugs or money, Chanos had to protect his reputation. A gang leader that didn't deal with disrespect quickly was a toe tag waiting to happen courtesy of someone wanting to move up the ranks. Killing Rat was a message. Shooting Tana's mom was the postscript on that message and was meant for my brothers through me.
I turned and sat against the front door. I wanted to go to the hospital and see Tana. Be there for her to lean on, but I didn't know if my presence would only upset her more and I'd already caused enough damage. I didn't want to tear her apart any more than I already had. I swore silently that I'd do whatever it took to make this right by her and told Juvante as much. "Even if Chanos wasn't the one to pull the trigger, he knows who did."
Juvante eased down beside me. "I know what you're thinking, but if you take Chanos out, you can kiss your life goodbye." He shook his head. "You'll do hard time."
"Do you think I give a fuck?"
"How's that going to help Tana? She needs you around more than ever."
Guilt, as big ass and heavy as a semi, backed up and rolled onto my shoulders. Thanks to my fucktard brothers, my past had done this to Tana's life. I'd been afraid my past would somehow cause her hurt. I should have stayed away from her. I could have walked away.
"Mama Leena," Juvante warned seconds before her minivan swept into the driveway.
Worry, anger, and fear made crossroads on her face. "What happened?"
"Tana's mom was shot in a drive by," I said.
"That's what I heard. Who did this? You know what I'm talking about now don't play me." She put her hands on her hips and glared at the two of us.
Finally, I said, "I think it was Chanos."
"That's what I thought you were going to say. We're going to let the police handle this."
"The police tried to handle Chanos' brother and now Chanos for years, Mama. We can talk about it, but that's not going to solve anything and neither are the police." Juvante rose to put his arm around Mama Leena. "You know that's the truth."
Mama Leena ignored Juvante and patted my shoulder. "She needs you, Ryan."
"We had a fight. She made it clear she doesn't want to see me."
"Oh, son." She sighed. "You listen to me and go to the hospital. Whatever's going on between you and her, doesn't matter at this second."
I rose and stuck my hands in the pockets of my jeans, unable to meet her gaze. "I made her hate me."
"You can't run away emotionally every time you cause someone pain, Ryan. All relationships have their good and their bad. You have to stay and fight through it. Go on. I'll pick up Destiny and we'll meet you at the hospital."
I nodded even though I knew there was nothing I could do to salvage my relationship with Tana even if I wanted to. Her hating me was for the best, but Mama Leena was right about one thing. Tana needed me and that's all I needed to know.
Chapter Thirteen
TANA
The hours moved with the speed of a snail. Medically-induced coma. For now, the doctor had said in a jumble of words that sounded like he spoke a foreign language. I leaned back against the hard plastic of the chair, my fingers holding onto the paper cup of coffee like they didn't belong to my body. All around me the sounds and sights of the hospital bustled with life. I couldn't grasp how everything was business as usual when a huge part of my life lay in the recovery room. What an oxymoron. Why call it a recovery room if there was no promise of recovery?
"Tana?"
Ryan. Rumpled. Exhausted. His eyes dark with an emotion that I couldn't read. He slid into the seat next to me and I wouldn't look at him. I was too close to the edge, too close to falling to pieces and I didn't want his pity. After a second, he took my hand, threading his fingers in between mine. I let him because even though I was still hurt by the way he'd blown me off after we'd been together, his presence comforted me.
"I'm sorry."
"It's not like you caused it." I set the cup down and glanced at him.
He winced, looked at the floor and took a deep breath. "What did the doctor say?"
I repeated what I'd been told.
"She'll be okay," he said.
I nodded, but scoffed inwardly. I knew he couldn't promise that. Who lives and who dies is a crapshoot. A voyage into territory that had no guidelines or rules. A healthy athlete can drop dead. No warning. People survive falling out of the sky when a plane crashes. Who gets to decide the lucky and the unlucky? A cosmic draw? A universe poker game among the gods with human lives as the buy in?
"She'll be okay," Ryan repeated and I knew he was trying to convince himself my mother would survive. He and I had talked about death before. Books and movies depict death as a figure shrouded in black. But they were all wrong. Death was multi-colored, painting pictures with his actions that no one ever wants displayed in their home. Green for the envy toward other families who have not yet entertained the company of death. Red for the rage against the hopelessness that you can't uninvite death if he decides to visit. White for the nothingness when you feel hopeless and powerless as death plays a waiting game with you.
So we waited.
The night faded into day and then back again. People came and went. Coworkers. Mine and my mom's. Some of my old friends from school. Shelby. Brooklyn.
People Ryan knew came. Cooper. Juvante, Destiny. Mama Leena. Ryker. Zane. Forty-eight hours I sat at the hospital mainlining coffee, and refusing to leave my mother's side. Ryan wouldn't leave mine. He kept watch over me, rising protectively whenever the doctor approached as if impending pain was a freight train and he was determined not to let it crush me. But the pain did claim me. It moved into my body like an unwelcome roommate who took all the stuff that was once mine.
Laughter.
Joy.
Hope.
All of those had been stolen by pain now and she was a selfish bitch who'd shown she was reluctant to give them back. Time marched on and I zombied my way through it until Jason's mom had to head out of town and I needed to go home to take care of Mark. I couldn't tell him that nothing had changed. I would smile brightly and say that Mom was getting better. Then I would spend the night hoping that in the end I wasn't lying.
"I'll take you home," Ryan said. He helped me to the elevator with his arm around me. The elevator crept toward the parking garage. People got on. Visitors. A doctor in blue scrubs. Nurses. Talking. Laughing. Like they had a right to be happy. To live when mere feet away from all of us, Mom might not make it. I tried hard to drown out their happiness and Ryan folded me against him. When one of the nurses told a joke to the doctor, I screamed, "Shut up! Stop laughing!" They all stared at me. The elevator doors slid open and Ryan hurried me out into the garage. He led me to the Charger and put me into the passenger seat then reached across me to fasten the seatbelt.