Dante stepped in front of him, and bent down to get eye-to-eye.
“No, you’re not. We’ve got three weeks to go and you can do it, but only if you have faith in yourself. So are you with me or not, Ace?” He got the disappointment. The kid had been in the pool every day for the past twelve days. He’d even made a deal with his dad that he had to go swimming when he went to visit or he’d have to skip the weekend.
Surprisingly, even though Rossi wasn’t the best of ex-husbands, he seemed to be trying on the dad front.
“Do you really think I stand a chance against Chris?” Dylan asked.
“I do and I wouldn’t be shocked to find out he’s lying about his time. But we’re not going to worry about him. You’re going to practice and on the day of the race, you’re going to get in the pool and do your best. Then at the end of the day, no matter where you placed, you’re going to be proud of yourself.”
“Will you be there?” His big brown eyes pleaded with him to say yes. “Mom, Dad, and Mia are coming, but I want you there, too.”
Man, this was huge. It was more than a casual invitation. It was written all over the kid’s face. Dylan had lumped him together with his parents. Total acceptance. He wasn’t sure what to say. He needed to talk with Fiona first.
“I’ll have to check with work, but I’ll try. Deal?”
Dylan wrapped his little arms around his waist, squeezing as tight as he could. Emotions swelled inside Dante, pushing against his chest, clogging his throat and burning his eyes. Fiona had to say yes, because he didn’t think he could take breaking Dylan’s heart. But it was more than that. He wanted to be there, wanted to be the one cheering him on to the finish line and giving him a high-five. And all of that, the emotions and the wanting, scared the hell out of him.
It reeked of commitment and putting down roots, and accepting that his days in the field were over. Even if he got better, he’d never want to put a family through the stress that came with his type of deployments.
He hugged Dylan back. “Okay, recruit. Time for another lap and remember just swim. Don’t worry about time. Focus on the moment, the strokes, your breathing. Got it?”
Dylan grinned and got into ready position. The minute Dante blew the whistle Dylan was off and swimming with everything he had. They practiced for another half-hour when he called time. Dylan whined that he wanted to keep going; he hadn’t broken his forty-two seconds yet. Dante reminded him there were other ways to build up his speed, like building up his arm and leg muscles running and doing push-ups.
“Besides, Ace. I think Mom is ready for dinner.”
“You’re staying, right?” Dylan asked as his head swiveled back and forth between the adults.
Fiona nodded.
“I’ll stay, but let’s give your mom the night off. Fiona, mind if I borrow Dylan for a bit to run out and get dinner?”
“If it means I don’t have to cook, you bet.”
He and Dylan made quick work of getting cleaned up; both kissed Fiona and headed out the door. “So what will it be tonight? Burgers, tacos, pizza, or shawarma?”
Dylan’s face scrunched up. “What’s shawarma?”
“It’s like a taco, but from the Middle East. Instead of a tortilla, they use naan bread. Trust me, it’s good.”
“Is it like a gyro? I like those,” Dylan said happily from the back seat.
“Same concept, slightly different taste.”
“Okay. Sounds good. I’m really hungry. Did you know that a hundred-thirty-pound person burns like five hundred and ninety calories in an hour?”
“Sounds like you’ve earned a ice cream sundae.”
“Maybe. I’m smaller so I’d only burn about two hundred twenty. Maybe less because I had to take breaks.”
“Good point. How about we stop at the grocery store first and get the stuff to make small ice cream sundaes? We don’t want to blow your training, right?”
“Right.”
Man, he loved this kid. He never knew what new fact Dylan was going to hit him with, but it never failed to amaze Dante. Dylan was like a walking Wikipedia. Dante’s youngest brother, Mateo, had been the bookworm in his family. Dante and George were busy with sports, and Tawny was a shopping diva barely out of diapers. So far his nieces and nephews were following in their parents’ footsteps, which made Dante wonder what would a kid of his be like?
Not that he cared one way or the other, as long as they were happy and healthy. Being around Fiona and Dylan had opened his eyes to what he’d been missing all these years. He loved the time he spent with them, and when he went home at night to Sinclair the Cat, he rambled around his apartment, unable to settle down.
Like a stray dog in the desert.
Belonging nowhere, to no one, always looking for a safe place to lay his head.
Sitting on the edge, watching life pass him by.
Maybe that was all about to change? While they hadn’t been dating all that long—a couple of months—he knew he cared deeply for both, Fiona and Dylan.
He’d even caught himself imaging a different kind of life. One with a pint-sized fireball by his side, kids tackling him when he came home and sleeping in his own bed every night.
First, he had a few things to figure out.
While they ran into the grocery store, Dante sent a text message to his buddy at the Shawarma Spot with his order so all he and Dylan had to do was pick them up and pay. This way the frozen food stayed frozen and hot food hot. Sometimes it was good to be a regular. He let Dylan pick out the toppings, hoping Fiona wouldn’t kill him when they brought in their haul: cherries, whipped cream in both regular flavor and chocolate, chocolate, strawberry, and pineapple sauce. Somehow they’d gone from small sundaes to full-on banana splits.
A quick stop across the parking lot, they had dinner and were rolling.
He took the shortcut out of the parking lot, skipping the stoplight that took forever to change. After a few minutes of nonstop traffic, he was thinking he’d chosen poorly. Dylan rambled on about the characters in his video game. Dante hit the accelerator and pulled out into traffic.
Someone hit their horn and Dante turned his head as tires squealed. He was thrown from one side to the other as the cars collided. One second they were going forward across the lanes and the next they were spinning sideways into the center lane.
Dante gripped the steering wheel. His heart pounded like a racehorse as he fought to control the car and keep from hitting anyone else. It only took a couple of seconds, but it felt like a lifetime.
Dylan didn’t utter a sound.
Dante yanked his seat belt off and half crawled between the seats to get to him.
“Are you okay?” He visually checked him over. No blood. Thank God he was in the back and buckled up.
Dylan’s eyes were as wide as saucers, his face ghost pale, and tears streamed down his face. He didn’t answer, but he nodded.
Traffic came to a halt and some guy pounded on Dante’s window. Sirens sounded in the distant. Dante got out of the car, pushing the guy out of his way.
“Man, are you okay?”
Dante ignored him and ran around to the other side of the vehicle, whipping open Dylan’s door. He checked him over again, as the guy rambled on about the accident. Dante needed to get Dylan to safety, and he needed more than anything to just hold him and breathe.
Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed the other vehicle. It was totaled, but the driver was out and talking to another person.
Dante unbuckled Dylan and carried him to the sidewalk. He knelt down so Dylan could stand, but neither let go as Dante pulled out his cell phone and called Fiona.
“Fee, honey—” His voice shook as the adrenaline pounded through him.
“What’s wrong?” Her voice broke on a deep breath. “Please, tell me everyone’s okay?”
“Yeah, we’re o
kay. Hey, Ace, talk to your mom.” He handed Dylan the phone. While Dante stood, he kept a tight grip on Dylan’s shoulder. Thank God for seatbelts.
“Mom?”
“Baby, are you hurt?”
“No. Maybe a little. I think I hit my head.”
“What?” Dante gingerly felt the kid’s scalp, looking for any bumps, or blood. Dylan sucked in his breath as Dante touched a spot on the side. He must have whacked his head on the window.
“Baby, give the phone to Dante, okay? Love you.”
Dylan passed him the phone. “He’s got a bump. Someone already called 911 and an ambulance just pulled up. I’m going to have the EMTs check him out, but you should probably come down. I might be here for a while.” He gave her their location and hung up.
“What happened?” Dylan asked.
Damn good question. He remembered sitting and waiting for a break in traffic. It was taking forever. He looked right, left, right and back to the left again. Why did he do that? You always, always look right, left, right.
“Let’s go get you checked out, Ace.”
“The ice cream’s going to melt,” Dylan said.
Dante laughed. Food was the last thing on his mind, but leave it to a ten-year-old to think with his stomach. “We’ll get more.”
The paramedics checked out Dylan, while Dante talked to the police officer that’d shown up.
According to the other driver, Dante had pulled out right in front of him.
That can’t be true. I looked, the coast was clear. But then I looked the other way. Did I look right again? If so, where the hell did he come from?
Shit. He wasn’t sure. The cop asked him a dozen or more questions and told him to sit tight. The paramedics gave Dylan the all clear, but advised that he should see a doctor, too. They tried to check out Dante, he refused. He hadn’t been hurt and there was nothing they could tell him that he didn’t already know.
The officer walked back up to Dante at the same time Fiona ran through the crowd, dropped to her knees to hug Dylan.
“We got a couple of witnesses who said the other car was speeding. He denies it, but he blew just under the limit. I can’t get him for driving under the influence, but I sure as heck can get him for negligent driving. The tow truck should be here soon. You got a ride home?”
At Fiona’s nod, the officer walked away to finish dealing with the mess the accident had caused.
“Fiona, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t. All that matters is you’re both okay.” She hugged Dylan again before standing, never taking her arm from around her son. “Did he say you could go? I’d like to take Dylan to urgent care and have his head checked, just to be sure.”
“I should wait for the tow truck, make sure they take my ride to the correct place. You go ahead. I’ll call one of the guys to get me.”
She hesitated for a second. “Come on, Dylan.”
“I’m hungry. Our dinner is still in the car.”
“Hang on, Ace.” Dante ran across the now closed road, grabbed the bag with the shawarmas in it, and gave them to Dylan and Fiona.
Dylan smiled and said bye.
Fiona left without a word.
Not that he blamed her. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, a dozen ways this night could have ended differently. Some of them good, most of them worse.
But there was thought that kept circling his brain: he probably just lost the two most important people in his life.
He stood off to the side as people milled around and cars crept by with the drivers taking in every little detail of the crash. Lights from the police car, the ambulance and tow truck flashed all around him. His head pounded in rhythm.
Could he have avoided this?
Had he looked right one last time?
Why couldn’t he fucking remember?
“Son.” The officer, who couldn’t have been more than ten years older than him, touched him on the arm. “Here’s the address where they’re taking your vehicle. Since you told the driver you didn’t know a place, I had him take it to one I know that has a good reputation. When you call tomorrow, tell the owner Alex Carr sent you.” He gave Dante a card with an embossed classic Chevy on it.
“Thanks.” When had they hauled away the SUV? They asked him where to take it? He didn’t remember any of it. The meds were supposed to make him better. Given the events of the last hour or so, he’d call it an epic fail.
“You need a ride?” Officer Carr asked. “I saw your wife leave.”
“Girlfriend, but yeah, she left.” He had a feeling she’d left in more ways than one. There had been something in her eyes, a distance, regret, sadness. Maybe all of the above. She’d kept it classy, kept her cool, and didn’t cut him off at the knees in front of everyone. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she had. He should have taken more care. If it were him, he would have said adios on the spot. “Thanks for the offer. I’m good.”
But he was as far from good as it got.
* * * *
Dylan complained from the back seat about going to the doctor until Fiona relented and let him eat the taco thing in the car. Sometimes a person just needed to know which battle to pick and where. The car could get cleaned later, and it would need it, because her son was anything but a neat eater.
On the short drive to urgent care, she kept her focus on the road, hands gripping the steering wheel, and her speed under the limit. Her gaze shifted rapidly from the front window, the rearview mirror, to the side mirror and back. Upon parking the car, she let out a sigh of relief and wanted to laugh. She hadn’t even been in the accident and was freaked. Whereas Dylan had and hadn’t a care in the world outside of filling his belly. Oh, the joy of being ten.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go get that hard head of yours checked.” Keep it light and he’ll be fine. If only she could will away the accident. She couldn’t think… no, wouldn’t think about what happened. Not then, not yet. Later when she was home, alone in her own room she’d release everything she was holding inside.
Thankfully, no one sat in the urgent care waiting room and they whisked her and Dylan straight back to an exam room. The doctor directed all of his questions to Dylan first, then confirmed the details with her.
“How are you feeling, Dylan?” the doctor asked.
“Bored. Still kind of hungry. Dante bought ice cream but we had to leave it behind. We were going to make banana splits.”
They were? She made a mental note to stop by the local ice cream spot and treat Dylan on the way home. The poor kid had his whole night ruined.
The doctor ran him through the usual: reflexes, lungs, looking up his nose and into his ears, tracking his eye movement. Joking with her son the whole time.
He reminded Fiona of Dante, as both had a natural way with kids. He was gentle and didn’t rush. Dylan flinched when he touched the side of his head, though.
“Hmm, well I have some bad news for you, Dylan. There doesn’t appear to be anything wrong with you, so I can’t instruct Mom to give you ice cream for dinner and let you out of any chores.”
Dylan grinned. “It’s okay. I already ate dinner.”
“Well, in that case, I can’t see any reason why you couldn’t have it for dessert.” The doctor turned to her with a kind smile. “You did the right thing in bringing him in. And while I can’t see anything that leads me to believe there’s a problem, I want to run a quick scan before you leave. Err on the side of caution. He might develop a headache, that’s perfectly normal. Let him rest, so maybe no chores tonight. If the headache gets worse, or he’s dizzy, nausea, vomiting, or gets confused, then we’ll need to take another look.”
She thanked the doctor as he shook Dylan’s hand before leaving the room. A few minutes later a nurse showed up.
“Want to go for a ride, sport?” Quickly he unlocked the wheels on the bed and pushed it out
of the room. “We should only be gone a few minutes, Mom.”
“Have fun, baby. Remember, no speeding down the hallway or around the corners.” As soon as she was alone, emotions rushed to the surface. “Nope, not yet.”
She couldn’t let Dylan find her crying.
Her phone chirped and she pulled it out to read the text from Dante asking about Dylan. She sent him a quick update, ending it with a note she’d see him tomorrow.
Tomorrow. That thought brought a whole other set of problems, like how Sal would respond when she told him. And yeah, as much as she’d like to skip the drama, she had to tell Dylan’s father about the accident.
To fill in the time and save her later, Fiona sent her mom a text and let her know what happened as well. She assured them their grandson was fine and would be getting the royal treatment as soon as they finished up at the clinic. The nurse was good to his word and returned Dylan after not long.
“Doc says he’s good to go. Here’s his discharge papers. If anything changes, don’t hesitate to bring him back in.” The nurse turned to Dylan, held out a fist. “Good talk, my man. Anytime you want to know more about what we do here, I’m happy to answer your questions.”
Two hours later, she had Dylan tucked into bed, his belly full of ice cream with extra whipped topping. Slowly she walked around the apartment locking doors and shutting off lights. It’d been a long day and the first tear slipped down her cheek as she sank onto her bed. She didn’t bother to change out of her yoga pants and tee. Everything she’d been pushing aside for the past few hours rushed at her. All the fear and the anger. Guilt and relief.
She rolled over to her side and let the tears flow. Great, big sobbing tears as the realization hit that her son could have been taken away from her. She couldn’t imagine a life without Dylan in it, without ever seeing his smile again, or hearing his laughter. Never feeling his arms wrap around her neck and hearing him say, “I love you, Mom.”
Her heart broke into a thousand pieces.
Her mind a tumbled mess of grief.
If he’d sat on the other side of the car, he might not have walked away with just a bump on the head. Oh God, a few seconds earlier or later, and the car would have hit Dante. She could have lost them both in the blink of an eye and there would have been nothing she could have done to stop it.
Disarmed by Love Page 20