“Nathan,” I whisper as we near the edge.
His arms give an answering squeeze.
“That’s not… she’s not the DOA. Is she?”
He swallows loudly. “If I leave you here to check, are you going to do anything stupid?”
“Oh, God.” My head falls back on his shoulder. “N-n-n-no.”
Nathan’s hands cover the backs of mine, and he gentles his hold. “Stay right here. I mean it. You move a fuckin’ inch, and I’ll sedate you myself. I’ll be right there. I’m going to check. Don’t you dare move.”
“Okay.” Terror laces my response.
I don’t want to watch, but I can’t look away. My eyes glue to his retreating back.
It knocks the breath from my lungs once more as he crouches down and unzips the bag. His chin drops to his chest. What does that mean? We all feel compassion for the victims we come across, but is that compassion for me?
I break his rule and meet him halfway, desperate for an answer.
He seems just as desperate to give it to me. He grips my upper arms and grinds out, “It’s not her. God.” He closes his eyes and doubles over. “It’s not her.”
I cover my mouth with my palm and close my eyes too. I open my mouth to ask who it is, knowing there are only two other people in that car, when a voice rings out.
“Move out of the way!”
Seven rescuers rush forward carrying a gurney over the icy snow and to the ambulance.
One glimpse of auburn hair, and I take off in that direction. I catch up to them, and my entire world flips on its axis.
Blood. All I can see was blood. That brief glimpse of auburn hair is the only part not covered in it. Her eyes are closed, and she’s so still I’m not even sure she’s breathing.
“Is she alive?” I ask to no one and everyone at the same time.
When no one responds, I screech, “Is she alive?”
Seven sets of eyes swing in my direction. They shove her into the ambulance.
“Barely.”
“Move. I’m coming with.”
My emergency training kicks in, forcing my reaction from panicked to professional.
“Who’re you?” An officer asks, stopping a firefighter from shutting the back doors.
“I’m her mother. Nathan!”
He looks up from where he watches the exchange.
“Take my car and meet me at the hospital. The keys are in the ignition.”
Nudging the officer out of his way, he takes hold of the door. “Stay strong, Cami.” They slam shut. Through the window, I see him jogging to my car.
My eyes drift down to take in my beautiful, broken girl as the ambulance roars to life. Sirens blare, and the lights cast an eerie glow through the hazy snow. As the other paramedic works on Evelyn, I hold her hand and pray. I pray in a way I haven’t done in fourteen years.
I pray she hangs on long enough to get to an O.R. I pray the ambulance makes it through the rough conditions and gets us there fast and safe. I pray Nathan doesn’t have any trouble following us.
But mostly, I pray that the universe isn’t about to fuck with me again and take away the one thing I’ve fought nearly my entire life to protect.
20
A trauma team waits in the ambulance bay. As soon as Evelyn’s unloaded, they kick me out into the waiting area. She’s immediately rushed into surgery. All I’ve been told so far is that her injuries are extensive. Several broken bones, massive internal bleeding. They won’t know until they get a CT scan if she has a head injury too.
Nathan arrives shortly after we do and finds me alone in the waiting room. After they take Evelyn up to the O.R., a nurse comes and brings us to a private waiting room instead.
I need to pass the time, so I pull out my phone and call the two other people who exist in my life.
Kiersten’s up first. She’s out of town and can’t do anything, and I need time to stall. I don’t have a clue what I’ll say to Law.
I keep it brief with her, holding onto my pain long enough to tell her Evelyn was in an accident. She offers to leave right away to be with me, but I tell her to stay. It’s her family holiday, and the roads are dangerous. After promising hourly updates, she tells me she’ll be home as soon as the roads are safe, and lets me go. Once I hang up, Nathan stands and hugs me hard.
“I have to get back to work. If you want, I can get someone to cover for me so I can stay.” The statement lingers like a question.
“I have people coming. Go back to work. I’ll keep you updated.”
“Keep the faith,” he says, giving me one last lingering hug.
I’m thankful for a few minutes alone to call Law. I know why I need to call him, and it’s more than my desperation for the comfort only he can bring. He doesn’t know that, though, and if questions arise, being alone is the best way for me to answer them.
The phone rings three times before he answers, and at the sound of his voice, I nearly lose it.
“Did you miss me already?”
I pace across the ugly blue carpet in a path that quickly becomes comforting. Words fail me. The only thing I can do is choke on the sob that overcomes me.
“Cami, what is it?” His voice turns insistent.
“You need to come to the hospital.”
A clattering sounds through the phone. “I’m coming, baby. What’s happened?”
His engine roars in my ear moments later. This is my Law, just like old times. I need him, and he’s there. No questions asked.
“Evelyn was in an accident.”
“I’m coming, baby, you hear me? Stay calm.”
“Law, hurry.”
“I am, but you stay calm for me.”
I whimper, calm the last thing on my mind.
“Close your eyes, Cam.”
“Law,” the desperation in my voice begs him to help me.
“Do it, baby.”
I do as he asks.
“Are they closed?”
My voice is a strangled whisper. “Yes.”
“Remember our waterfall? Imagine you’re there. You’re surrounded by the deep greenery, sitting in the shade beneath the rocks. Water rushes overhead and pours into the pool of water beside you. You’re so close, if you reached your hand out, you could feel how cool the water is.”
My breathing slows.
“Are you there? Do you see it?”
Another whimper. “I’m there.”
“Good. Hold tight. I’m coming. I’m almost there.”
“Okay, Law.”
The calmness of his voice keeps coming at me. “See you soon.”
The line clicks off.
I lower the phone from my ear, trying to hold on to the image of the waterfall in my head.
Eventually, the image fades, replaced with the memory of Evelyn’s bloodied face, and I crumple to the floor and cry.
* * *
I don’t know how much time has passed, but I know it’s him without opening my eyes. His scent surrounds me; the smell of cedar the most distinguishable. And the feel of his body pressed against mine has become familiar. As if I weigh nothing, he picks me up from the floor and cradles me in his arms. He sits in one of the double chairs with me in his lap.
My hands find the open halves of his jacket, and I clutch them tightly in my fists. I want to crawl inside his body and live there until all this is over. I can’t do it again. The thought of losing another person I love eviscerates me.
“I won’t survive losing her.”
“Shh.” He strokes my hair, my shoulders, my back.
Abruptly, I sit up. “I’m serious,” I state in a tone that matches my words. “I can’t do it. I lost my parents, Ritchie, you.”
“You haven’t lost me. I’m right here.”
“But I did. I lost you, and it nearly killed me. I can’t do it again. I can’t lose anybody else.”
Pain etches across his features. He cups the side of my head and tucks me in the space beneath his chin.
“I’m rig
ht here, Cami, and you aren’t gonna lose anybody else.”
I slip my arms beneath his jacket, holding on tight as if by letting go I’d float away into the ether, never to return.
“Three days before Ritchie died, I visited him for the last time.” I don’t know why I tell him this, but in light of what’s happening, it feels like the time to come clean. Too much heaviness weighs on me. The only way to lighten the load is to set it free. Something I should have done a long time ago.
“When it was time to go, I drove to Logansville instead of Arrow Creek. I parked outside your house.”
The ministrations of his fingers in my hair help to ground me.
“I know,” he says, after a few moments of silence.
“You did?”
“Not then. I found out the day of your birthday when you were drunkenly rambling to Ritchie’s headstone.”
“Oh. Well, I forgot about that.”
Law chuckles and moves his fingers from my hair to trace my arm. “Why did you bring it up?”
“I just wondered what would have happened. If I’d have come back. Knocked on the door or something.”
His body stills beneath mine. “You can’t think like that,” he says in a gruff voice.
“I’m sorry. I was just thinking about how much I have hurt us. Directly and indirectly from my mistakes.”
“Our mistakes.” His inhale lifts me with the rise and fall with his chest. “I spent years focusing on the what-if’s. We’ve found our way back to each other now. No use in running through imaginary scenarios. It’ll just torture you.”
“You’re right.”
We both fall silent again.
I watch the fish tank across the room, but my eyelids grow heavy. The adrenaline leaks out of me and exhaustion takes its place. I curl into Law’s shoulder, and although I don’t sleep, dream-like images dance behind my eyelids.
Someone shakes me awake.
“Cami. The surgeon is here to see you.”
Jolted, I shoot up from Law’s lap.
“Is she alive?”
That’s the only question that matters. The details can trickle in later, but as long as she’s still breathing, I know we’ll figure them out.
“She’s alive,” he reassures me immediately.
My legs shake with relief.
“Things were touch and go. We had to shock her heart on the table. She’s not out of the woods.”
Law slips an arm around my back, supporting me.
“How bad is it?”
“I won’t lie to you. It’s not good. She had a lot of internal bleeding. We had to remove part of her intestine and her left ovary. She had penetrating trauma to the abdomen from a piece of metal from the car. Her pelvis is fractured, which contributed to the sizeable amount of blood loss. Thankfully, there’s no sign of a head injury. She’s intubated and in a medically induced coma. We have her in ICU.”
Sickness washes over me. “Can I see her?”
The surgeon nods and gives me a sad smile. “You can see her.”
I want to run, to knock over any hurdle that gets in my way, and find my daughter. I have to see for myself that she’s still alive.
Law releases me, and without looking back, I follow the doctor down the hall. He opens a door with his badge and gestures me through.
The sterile, antiseptic smell assaults me as I enter the Surgical Intensive Care Unit. A nurses’ station is in the center and patient rooms fill the perimeter. The doctor leads me to bed six and slides open the glass door to let me inside.
“Take your time. We allow family twenty-four hours, unless her status changes. If you need anything, push the red call button or let one of the nurses know.”
He steps out and closes the door behind him. In a panic, I spin around and call out. “Hey, doctor?”
He pauses and his brows lift as if to say, go ahead.
“Do you… is it possible to find out about the others who were in the car with her? They were friends. I was told one was DOA.”
I don’t want the answer, but I need it. I feel like I can’t go another second without knowing.
“I’m sorry.” He clasps my shoulder. Letting his arm drop, he delivers the news that feels like a blow to the gut. “The mother was DOA, and the other young lady is still in surgery.”
I clamp a hand over my mouth and suck in air through my nose. “Thank you,” I choke out.
“I am truly sorry for your loss.” He dips his chin and leaves me alone with Evelyn.
Upon turning around, the first thing I notice is all the wires. Electrodes and tubes extend from everywhere.
“Oh, Evelyn,” I whimper and shuffle toward the hospital bed. A tremble overtakes my hand as I brush a lock of hair from her forehead. “I am so, so sorry, baby.”
I want to touch her, but there aren’t many spots that seem uninjured. My free hand finds hers while I continue to stroke her hair. The same hair I admired just three days ago is now a tangled, blood-matted mess.
An agonized sound comes from my throat, and I know I can’t do this anymore. Live this lie. I’m not the only person who needs to be in here right now. With that thought in mind, I bend and press my lips against a clean, bare patch of skin just below her left eye.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t do anything while I’m gone.” Terror grips me like quicksand, refusing to let me go from its dark grasp, even for only a few minutes. “There’s somebody I want you to meet.” I squeeze her hand once more, then force myself to uncurl my fingers.
My shoes squeak against the linoleum as they carry me backward to the door. Turn around. Go get Law. Come right back. She’ll be okay. She’s going to hang on for more than a few minutes. She’s strong; stronger than I ever was and ever will be. Just go. Get Law and come right back.
I turn and flee.
I burst through the door to the private waiting area. The second my eyes hit Law’s, he’s out of his chair and crossing the room.
His face morphs into worry and pain. “Is she okay?”
Tears burn before spilling hot onto my cheeks. A thorny vine formed from years of secrets and guilt snakes around my stomach, squeezing, pricking, inflicting the pain I so deserve to feel.
I soak him in, taking my last look of the man I’d loved my entire life. The man I fell deeper in love with over the past three days, and open my mouth to deliver the news that will ultimately break us beyond repair.
There’s no going back.
“She, she-she-she-she’s…” I suck in air through my nose, “She’s okay. It’s not her. I need you to come with me.”
He cups my cheek, and oh, how do I want to lie into his touch. The slight movement of his thumb swiping my tears away feels like he struck a match against the sensitive skin beneath my eye.
His concerned gaze moves from me to the door separating us from her. “If you need me, of course, I will.”
I step out of his comfort. Our point of contact falls in slow motion between us. “It’s not for me. It’s just that, if something were to happen, I couldn’t go on–ˮ
He attempts to shut down the train of thought from earlier by cutting me off. “Nothing’s going to happen to her.” Trying to close the growing gap between us, his feet shuffle forward, but it’s too late. It’s as if the earth cracked in a powerful earthquake. The chasm between us spreads wider and wider, and the tectonic plates shift. Mine drags me out to sea. An island of betrayal brought out by my stupidity.
“Listen to me.” I blow out a forceful exhale. “If something did. If. I couldn’t live with myself knowing I let you sit out here, when you should have been in there with her. Family sticks together.”
“Okay, Cam, I’m listening. I said I’d go in there for you. We’ve always been like family.”
I gather the hair in front of my head and twist my fingers at the crown. “I don’t mean me. She’s your family, Law. She’s your actual family.”
After reiterating, his brows snap together. His voice transforms to a dark rumble. �
�What exactly are you saying?”
I can’t look at him. My eyes drift to the row of chairs we sat in together not long ago, wishing and knowing I can never go back to having his arms around me and my ass in his lap.
“Look at me!” he barks ominously.
I return my sorrowful gaze and lay it out there once and for all. “I’m saying she’s your half-sister.”
“Fuck!” He spits the word sharply like it tastes foul on his tongue. “How? How in all the possibilities in the world could that have ever happened?”
Life leaks out of me as he goes from looking at me with concern to looking at me with disgust. Can I blame him? I’ve worn the same expression every time I looked in the mirror for fourteen years. The shame his produces within me is a hundred times worse, but I deserve it.
“The day you told me you wanted to see other people. I rode the bus home since I didn’t want to get into your truck, and I thought the whole way there. I wanted to talk to you, so I got off at the bus stop and ran to your house. You weren’t home, and I broke down.”
“So to get back at me, you fuck my father?!” he roars.
I flinch. “No! God, no. The thought of revenge wasn’t even on my mind.”
“Bullshit.”
“It wasn’t. I swear to you on my life, it wasn’t. I was so hurt and alone and vulnerable. At that point, I’d truly lost everyone I’d ever cared about. Ritchie had been sick for over two years without signs of getting better. He’d been back in the hospital for a nasty respiratory infection, and the day before, we’d gotten the news his cancer had spread again. Everyone around me was leaving or dying, Law, I just…” I grip the back of my head in both hands. My eyes well with tears, but I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to make this about me and my feelings. I look to the ceiling and blink them away. Hiding my eyes doesn’t conceal the tremor in my voice. “I don’t even know what happened! One second I was crying, and the next, he was telling me I didn’t deserve to hurt so much.”
“I don’t want to hear this.”
Those words reduce my heart to dust.
Where We Meet Again Page 18