Edges of Gone (The Gone Series Book 2)

by Jessica Gouin

  Through strands of my red hair, Nash’s face comes into view. Eyes locked onto mine.

  “Sloane, look right at me, take a deep breath. Focus on me. There’s only me and you right now. There’s nothing else. There’s only me and you. Forget about everything else.”

  He used those same words to calm me while I was having a panic attack at Lachlan’s house when I found that mug. I do what he says anyway because it worked last time and I’m desperate to stop feeling this way. It takes only a few more breaths to find my regular rhythm again. I raise my head and swipe my hair away from my face. A few pieces stick to my damp cheeks, and Nash delicately picks up the strands to tuck the locks behind my ear.

  “It’s just us. Nothing else matters.”

  “How do you do that?”

  “Do what?” He seems shy as though the power he holds on me isn’t a big deal.

  Together, we stand as a few people leave the building. We both move toward the side stairway that’s a bit more private.

  “My life has been such a cyclone for months, and every time I’m around you…”

  “What happens when you’re around me?” With each word, he inches closer.

  I cast my eyes to the brick wall because if I look at him, I don’t know what would happen. I just know what can’t.

  “You still everything. You have this effect on me…like all the gears begin to go slower. I can catch my breath again.”

  I allow myself to peek at him before I descend stairs to the sidewalk leading to the parking lot.

  Without looking back to Nash, or even thanking him for dropping his plans and helping me today, I slide into my car and drive away.

  EIGHTEEN

  Owen

  It’s hotter than hell in the shop. Two of the industrial fans broke, and while Adam keeps reminding me and the other techs hourly the repair guy is coming this afternoon, it doesn’t ease the feeling of pending heat stroke. A bar would have been nice and air conditioned, but since I couldn’t find one open so early, I thought work would provide a distraction from this morning.

  Leaning against my bench, I chug an entire bottle of water, but it doesn’t quench anything. My mind keeps drifting to what happened at the courthouse. I wanted to kill those fuckers. Drew and Hudson both.

  My cell buzzes next to the repair order form, and I recognize the number right away.

  “Lachlan? What’s going on?”

  “Jesus, mate. Thank God you answered. I don’t know what to do.”

  Adrenaline kicks in over his panicked tone. I haven’t known Lachlan that long, but I’ve gotten a sense he isn’t quick to react over nothing.

  “What’s wrong? Is it Noah?”

  “Yeah. It’s bad. I tried calling Sloane, but she’s not answering her cell and she’s not at Revamped. I even tried my aunt or uncle, but neither of them is home. Owen, you gotta come here right now.”

  I jog to Adam’s office and shout, “I gotta go, man. Family emergency.”

  He’s on the phone but stands and nods, concern radiating from him.

  “I’m leaving the shop. I’ll be there in ten minutes. You’re at home?”

  “Yeah, mate. We’re here.”

  My tires spit gravel in the parking lot. After hanging up with Lachlan, I try dialing Sloane’s cell number, but, just as Lachlan said, she’s not answering. It’s not like her at all, she always picks up. Lately, we’ve been doing so well communicating with each other. Today of all days, she doesn’t answer?

  I speed to Lachlan’s house the entire way and am grateful I didn’t get pulled over in the process. Slamming the gear into park, I’m out of the door before I make a complete stop.

  Lachlan’s waiting for me by the front door when I enter.

  “Thank Christ.”

  “What the fuck’s going on, man? You’re scaring the shit out of me.”

  Lachlan walks to the living room with me on his heels. “He won’t stop vomiting. It started last night, and it hasn’t let up yet. He’s puking like every hour and can’t keep anything down. I’ve tried water, crackers, anything. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

  I kneel on the floor in front of Noah who’s lying on the couch. His favorite blanket covers his small body, he’s pale. Really pale. I press the back of my hand to his forehead then feel his chest.

  “He’s burning up. Have you taken his temperature or given him any medicine?”

  “Yeah.” He grabs a bottle of children’s Tylenol from the table and shows me. It’s the same one we keep in our cupboard in the bathroom in case Noah has a fever. “I’ve been giving him this as directed on the bottle, but it’s not helping. I think because he just keeps throwing it back up. I took his temperature just before I called you, and it was one hundred and two. Google said that’s a middle-grade fever and to only go to the doctors if it’s over one hundred and four.”

  “His eyes look really glazed over and face looks kinda sunken in. You said he’s been vomiting for twelve hours and hasn’t kept any fluids down?”

  If possible, Lachlan’s face pales more than his son’s. “You think he’s dehydrated?”

  “Yeah, I think he might be. It’s okay. Let’s just get him to the hospital to be sure.”

  Lachlan rushes to Noah, removes the blanket, and scoops him up into his arms. Noah’s head instantly falls against Lachlan’s chest.

  “I’ll grab the wastebasket from the bathroom in case he throws up again. Get him in your car. I’ll drive.”

  “Thanks, Owen.”

  An hour later, the doctor has already seen Noah, and the nurses have hooked him up to an IV line to get some fluids into him. Just as I thought, he was dehydrated. The doc said it looks like something viral and the dehydration isn’t too severe. It was a good thing we brought him in, though.

  Lachlan sits in a chair next to Noah’s bed while I hover just outside of his room, calling Sloane over and over again. She still hasn’t answered and the chick that works for her says she’s been gone since this morning. I don’t know where the fuck she is or what could be more important than her sick nephew, but I’m seriously pissed off.

  The doc and a nurse leave Noah’s room, stopping to let me know I can go in to see him.

  “Hey, buddy,” I whisper, pulling up a chair on the other side of his bed across from Lachlan. His body looks so tiny under the sheets. He hasn’t thrown up since we left the house, and he already has a bit more color in his face. “How ya feeling? A bit better?”

  He nods his head, eyes fluttering as if fighting to stay awake. I look to Lachlan who keeps twisting Noah’s blanket in his hands over and over. He’s definitely on edge at the sight of his son in a hospital bed again. Neither of us wanted to see this for the second time.

  “You okay over there?”

  A trace of a smile appears on Lachlan’s face then he moves to stand over Noah, laying the blanket on the bed and brushing back the boy’s dampened hair to gently kiss his forehead. “The doctor gave you some medicine to make you sleepy. Your body needs to sleep in order to feel fully better, okay, son? I want you to close your eyes for a bit. Uncle O and I will be right here when you wake. We’re not going to leave you.”

  Within a few seconds, Noah’s eyes completely shut and his breathing increases. He’s out.

  “Poor kid. He must be exhausted.” Lachlan wanders to the window on the other side of the room.

  I shuffle to him, hands in my pockets. “You must be pretty tired yourself. I remember the feeling of being up all night with a sick Noah. It ain’t fun. You did well, man.”

  With arms crossed, he glances to his sleeping son, then back to the world outside. “I should have brought him here sooner. It didn’t even cross my mind he could be dehydrated.”

  “Of course it didn’t. You’re not a doctor.”

  “You knew.”

  “I knew because we went through this two years ago. He’d been real sick and wouldn’t stop throwing up. That’s the only reason I knew to take him in today. Listen, man, this parentin
g shit, it doesn’t come with a guide book. You stumble, you get up. You keep going because that’s what it takes. It’s hard as fuck, trust me. I’m not even a parent and I know that. If it were easy, it would mean you’re doing it wrong.”

  Lachlan stifles a laugh then lets out a long breath. “It’s scarier than I thought it’d be.”

  “That’s good. It means you give a shit.”

  He nods, reaching his hands behind his head to stretch. “Did you reach Sloane?”

  “She still won’t answer.” I take my phone from my pocket to look again to see if I missed a call or text from her. Nothing.

  “That’s really unlike her. I hope she’s okay.”

  “Yeah me, too. If she doesn’t call me within the hour, I’m going to drive around. Maybe she’s at home and her phone died or something.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.” He pauses like he wants to say more.

  “What?”

  “Nothing…it’s just… Do you think she heard something about Drew?”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  A tap on the door earns our attention. “Mr. Williams?”

  “Oh, Ms. Ashers, hi. What are you doing here?”

  Noah’s principal stands in the doorway of his room. She’s in complete contrast to how she looks at school every day. Her hair is pulled up into a messy knot at the top of her head, and she’s wearing black leggings and an oversized plaid shirt. I wouldn’t have recognized her if Lachlan hadn’t said her name.

  “My father had a heart attack a few nights ago. He’s just down the hall there.”

  “Oh no, I’m so sorry. Is he going to be alright?”

  “Yes, thank you for your concern. The doctor says he’ll make a full recovery. Is Noah okay?” Her brows furrow together making her apprehension toward an ill student clear.

  “He’s been vomiting since last night. The doc says he’s a bit dehydrated, so they’re getting some fluids into him and running a few tests to make sure it’s not anything too serious.” Lachlan crosses the room to speak with her so he can keep his voice down. Although, I think at this point nothing will wake this boy up.

  “I hope he gets better soon. I’ll let his teacher know he’ll be missing a few days.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that. I can phone the school.”

  “No need. You take care of your son. I have to make some calls to the school myself anyway. I was heading down to get some coffee. The stuff they have in the waiting room is like drinking tar. Can I get either of you anything while I’m there?”

  I sit down the chair closest to the door. “Why don’t you go with her, Lach? You could use a little break and a lot of caffeine. I’ll stay here with Noah. He’ll be out for a little while anyway.”

  Indecision flashes over Lachlan’s face. “No, I should really stay with him. I want to be here when he wakes up.”

  “Did you see the amount of sleep meds the doc gave him? Trust me, you’ll be back long before he wakes.”

  “All right. I’ll bring you back a cup.”

  “Sounds good, bro. Just black, thanks.”

  Lachlan leaves with Principal Ashers, and I lean back in the chair, crossing my arms and closing my eyes. This day couldn’t possibly get any fucking worse.

  “Uncle O?”

  My eyes snap open, and I sit up straight, reaching for Noah’s hand. “Bud, you’re supposed to be asleep.”

  “I know. But before I sleep, can I ask you sumthing?”

  “Anything.”

  “Can you not leave me? Like the way Momma lefted me?”

  I thought my heart had been broken too many times to crack farther. I was wrong. “Noah, bud, I’ll never leave you.”

  He sniffles, eyes closing for longer periods of time between blinks. “’Cause you seem sad all the time. I know Momma made you happy, and I don’t want you to go where she did. I want you to stay here wif me.”

  I leave my chair and sit on the bed next to him, pushing his hair back from his forehead. “I do miss your momma, every day I miss her. But you know what? If I left, I’d miss you even more. I won’t go anywhere, I promise.”

  I squeeze his hand lightly until his eyes flutter close and his breaths steady.

  When I know he’s asleep I pull out my cell to try and call Sloane once more. I reach her voice mail again which is now full. I search my contacts until I find Adam’s number to let him know everything’s okay. He tells me to take tomorrow off as well.

  I call Chloe next to see if she has seen my wife.

  It’s time to man-up and make everything right again.

  NINETEEN

  Sloane

  I haven’t been to the graveyard to visit Sawyer since her funeral. Not because I’ve been too busy to stop by, or too afraid of how I’d feel once I got here. But because it still doesn’t seem real she’s down there in the ground all alone. I know her spirit lives on and that’s where I see her. Her spirit resides in her son when he laughs, or in a horse that’s running free. She hated leaving the horses in Woodsview. I tried a few times to get her to visit a local ranch here, but she said it wouldn’t be the same. She kept in close contact with Rose for the first year or so after we left and promised to come back and visit her one day. Life got busy and plans were postponed. Last we heard, Rose sold the ranch and retired sometime last year.

  But that’s when I feel her most. In the air around me when I’m sad or a memory flashes in my mind.

  Not here in this silent, depressing part of town. I place flowers from the local grocer above her name on the plaque we picked out for her, and it feels empty.

  Running my hands over the fresh blades of grass and touching the cold stone disconnects me from her even further.

  It was stupid to come here, just as stupid as it’d been to go to a gun range with Nash Hudson.

  The smart thing would have been to delete his message and go back to work. Why I have to make things harder on myself remains a mystery. Maybe one day I’ll figure out why I handle my problems the way I do.

  It’s been three hours since my meltdown, and I still haven’t come to any conclusions. No peace was found today. And stupid me left my phone at the gun range.

  I whisper a good-bye to my best friend’s resting place and head back to my car. I’ll have to contact the range once I get back to work and see if they can keep my cell aside for me if they find it. I might be able to coerce Immy into picking it up for me. She seemed to like the range. There’s no way I’d be stepping foot back inside that building again. Ever.

  Practically before I pull the door to Revamped open, Immy barrels towards me.

  “Sloane! Where in the hell have you been?”

  “I needed some alone time. I’m so sorry I left you with the store. Please don’t be—”

  “Noah’s in the hospital.”

  My entire body goes numb, and my knees all but give out. “What?”

  “Owen and Lachlan have been trying to reach you for a few hours.”

  She shoves my cell phone in my hands, and I cannot comprehend a word she is saying.

  “How’d you get this?”

  “Nash brought it by earlier. Call Owen. Now!”

  My hands quiver so severely Immy literally has to take the phone from me to make the call then shoves my cell at me once again.

  “Sloane?”

  “Owen! What the hell’s going on? Is Noah okay?”

  “He’s fine. He’s been sick since last night, so Lachlan and I brought him to the hospital. He’s been admitted for mild dehydration and they’re running a few tests to make sure it’s nothing too serious.”

  “Oh my god, but he’s going to be fine? Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, he’s gonna be okay. We’ve been trying to reach you for hours. Where have you been?”

  “I know. I’m so sorry. I left my phone…at home by accident. What hospital are you at?”

  I tell Owen I’ll be there soon and end the call.

  Immy bounces in nervous movements besid
e me. “Is Noah okay?”

  “Yeah, Owen said he’ll be fine. He’s dehydrated from vomiting all night. What a nightmare for Lach to have to deal with all alone. I have to get to the hospital. I’ll just close the shop and you can go home, you don’t have to stay here by yourself.”

  “Don’t worry about anything here. I’ll take care of Revamped.” She pulls me in for a quick, hard hug. “And Sloane?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Next time I see you, I want answers.”

  I’d hoped she didn’t catch the white lie I told my husband. The words, or even how to assemble some sort of an explanation, refuse to form.

  “I know.”

  The hospital smells exactly how it did that night. It assaults my nostrils the second the elevator doors open to Noah’s floor. When I see his little body in the big bed a greater sense of déjà vu strikes and almost brings me to my knees.

  Noah’s asleep and I don’t see Lachlan anywhere but Owen is sitting in a chair next to our nephew’s bed. His head rests on linked hands next to Noah’s side.

  For a moment, I think Owen is asleep, but he stirs when I enter the room.

  “Sloane. You’re here.”

  “Of course I’m here. I’m so sorry I didn’t answer my phone earlier. Believe me, if I’d had it on me, I would have answered.”

  “Where in the hell were you? And don’t say work because Imogen already told me you weren’t there.”

  I’m not the type of woman that can lie to her husband. However, I’m not about to start a blowout in the middle of Noah’s hospital room. Another little fib is in order. For now anyway.

  “I was at Sawyer’s grave.” Technically not a lie.

  “This whole time? Jesus Christ, Sloane. We were worried about you!”

  His hushed anger sends chills down my spine. We’ve come so far since his last outbreak, and I’m worried this may send him right back to that dark place I dragged him out of only a month ago.