My Kinda Night (Summer Sisters Book 2)

by Lacey Black

  “Okay. Okay.” What to do? “Dean?” I start to ask, turning towards my guy for guidance.

  “I’m on it,” he says to me, worry marring his handsome features. What once was a light and fun gathering has turned stormy and dark, and until we have answers, I know that none of us will be able to enjoy the rest of our evening.

  Dean’s on the phone with the local hospital, not getting anywhere because he’s not family, when Meghan’s cell phone rings. Her hand is trembling as she brings it to her ear and whispers a hoarse greeting.

  “This is she,” she says into the phone. Moments later, I can see it. The color drains from her face and her body practically goes limp. Ryan is there, grabbing a hold of her arm to keep her from going down all the way, and I grab her phone.

  “This is Meghan’s sister, Payton,” I direct into the phone.

  “This is Jupiter Bay Hospital. We have a man here named Joshua Harrison who was brought into the emergency room via ambulance. He’s in critical condition but asking for Meghan Summer.”

  “We’re on our way,” I say as I disconnect the phone.

  Dean is standing with Meghan, on the opposite side of Ryan, both of them holding her up while she cries. “Hospital. Now.” Those two words cause a flurry of activity. Abby and AJ start grabbing purses and jackets, while Jaime throws cash down on the bar. Dean and Ryan each help guide Meghan towards the exit. I don’t even tell the instructor that we’ll be back another time to get our finished product. I couldn’t care less about those vases right now. Getting to the hospital is more important.

  Outside, the storm is blowing, rain pelting us like tiny sledgehammers. “My car is right there,” Dean says as they make their way towards his vehicle.

  “AJ and Abby, go with Ryan and Jaime. Lexi, get in the front seat with Dean,” I instruct. No one questions my orders; everyone just follows suit. Before we all separate, I see the anguish mirrored in the eyes of my sisters. While Ryan helps Meghan buckle her seatbelt, my sisters all plead with their eyes to make this okay. As the oldest, I’ve always been the fixer.

  But, my God, I can’t fix this.

  “He’s going to be okay,” I tell them, praying with everything I have that my words are true.

  Piling in the back seat beside my sister, I try to console her, but she’s crying too hard to pay attention to me right now. So, instead, I hold her. My shirt is soaked from the rain and the tears, but I don’t care. Dean is driving as fast as he can to safely get us to the hospital, while I hear Lexi make a call to our dad. After a very short conversation in a hushed voice, our eyes meet across the car and I know she feels it too: gut-clenching fear.

  Dean pulls into the circle drive in front of the emergency department. Before he even has it in park, we’re piling out of the car, Ryan’s truck parked right behind us. The six of us head towards the automatic sliding doors that lead to the entrance of the hospital.

  “We’ll park the vehicles and be right in,” Ryan hollers as he and Dean go to move from the emergency entrance.

  “Josh. Joshua Harrison. He was brought in a little while ago from a car accident,” Meghan says evenly as we approach the desk just inside the front door.

  “And you are?” the older woman asks, glancing up from her computer.

  “Meghan Summer. Someone called me.”

  The woman types on the keyboard in front of her. When she glances up, she says, “There’s a private family area right through that doorway. Have a seat for a moment, and I’ll go get someone to help you.” Then she scurries away quickly through the closed door of the emergency room.

  “Come on, Meg. Let’s have a seat,” Abby says gently, leading us all through the doorway and into the empty room.

  “I can’t sit. I need to see him,” Meghan pleads with angst eyes.

  “Someone will be out soon,” I add as the guys come rushing in from the parking lot.

  Dean’s arms are around me instantly, warm and comforting. I lean into his embrace, calling upon every ounce of strength I possess to be strong for my sister. We don’t even know anything yet, but I don’t have a good feeling about this. My gut tells me something is drastically wrong, and I don’t have a clue what to do about it.

  A few moments later, Dad comes rushing into the room with Grandma and Grandpa hot on his heels. They all look disheveled, and I’m pretty sure my grandparents are still in their pajamas, but no one seems to care. Dad pulls Meghan into a hug as a man in blue scrubs and a white jacket comes into the room.

  “Meghan Summer?”

  “That’s me,” she says, her voice wavering and cracking. We all gather around while the doctor steps forward.

  “Would you like to go somewhere to talk?”

  “No, whatever you need to say can be said in front of my family.”

  “All right. Mr. Harrison was in a car accident this evening and has a fractured leg, arm, and lacerations to his face and chest. But our biggest concern is a TBI, or traumatic brain injury. It’s caused from his brain jarring against his skull during impact. We know there is blood and a lot of swelling in the frontal lobe. There’s also internal bleeding in his chest. He was pinned between the steering wheel and his seat when the vehicle was crushed causing damage to his liver, as well as blood around his heart. I’m afraid we must get him into surgery as soon as possible to see how extensive the damage to both his chest and the brain. We have paged a neurosurgeon along with our chief surgeon, and as soon as they are ready, we’ll get him prepped for surgery.”

  “That sounds bad,” Meghan whispers, sniffling, as the tears continue fall.

  “His condition is very critical, Miss Summer. You should know that this surgery is both lifesaving, but also very complicated. There are a lot of injuries to major organs, and when you add them all together, well a lot could go wrong with a surgery of this magnitude.”

  “What are his odds?” my dad asks from his position beside Meghan.

  The doctor hesitates. We all see it. “We’re going to do everything we can for Mr. Harrison. We’re ready to get him to the OR and prepped for surgery. He has been in and out of consciousness, and even though we’ve tried to sedate him, he refuses until he gets to see you first. It’ll have to be a very short visit, but you can come in while we prep Mr. Harrison to be moved.”

  “Thank you,” she replies, latching on to Dad’s hand. Together, they walk towards the closed doors. Before they can enter the emergency room, Meghan turns. “Oh, my phone.”

  “I have it,” I say, pulling it from my pocket.

  “Someone needs to call his parents.”

  “I’ll do it,” Grandma says, stepping forward and reaching for the phone in my hand.

  “John and Angie,” she says before turning and disappearing behind the doorway.

  I don’t pay attention to Grandma as she walks across the room to make the call that none of us wants to make. Instead, I head over to one of the hard plastic chairs against the stark-white wall. Dean is there, holding my hand as we wait. There’s no conversations, no small talk, no noise except for the ticking of the wall clock. We all sit or stand, anxiously awaiting word of Josh’s condition. My hand is warm where he holds it tightly in his own, the silent gesture of support appreciated more than he’ll ever know.

  It seems like only a matter of minutes before Meghan and Dad are back from the ER. She looks completely stricken, heartbroken and inconsolable. I instantly worry that something happened while they were inside.

  “They’re taking him into surgery now. They said they’d keep us updated, but they won’t know the extent of some of the injuries until they get him opened up,” Dad says, steering his daughter towards the floral patterned vinyl covered loveseat. “Someone will be in shortly to move us up to a waiting room by the OR.”

  Meghan stares at the ground, completely ignoring everyone and everything around her. I suppose if I were in her shoes, I’d be the same way. Just the thought of Dean being on the other side of that wall makes my heart bleed and the lump lodged in my thro
at suffocating. Sitting here, surrounded by the scent of sterile chemicals and stale coffee, I know I’m completely in love with him.

  I just wish I knew what to do about it.

  After months of dancing around emotions and each other, we’ve finally decided to give a relationship a try. And what does it give me? Clarity. Clearly we’ve been working towards this place for a while now. Everything was fast-tracked in Richmond. The slow dance we partook in led us right here: to the big L.

  I’m not certain he feels the same, but he might. I’ve seen the way he looks at me. I’m not so dense that I haven’t felt his eyes on me or swooned at the smile he gives me when he thinks I’m not looking. Something has been brewing for a while now, and I know he feels it too.

  His arm wraps around my shoulder, pulling me into his embrace. My head connects with his chest, his heart beating strong against my ear. I try to relax, taking deep cleansing breaths in and out. Unfortunately, the calming effect only lasts a few moments before the reality of the situation rears its ugly head again.

  After about twenty minutes, we’re moved to another room. This one is larger with old copies of magazines on the tables and a television on mute in the corner that’s on some news channel. Not long after that, the door opens and Josh’s parents run in. I’ve met them both on a few occasions where our family gathers with his family and they seem like great people. Like their son.

  Angie is hysterical and clings to Meghan as if she were a lifeline. They’re both speaking through their sobs, but I’m unable to tell what they’re saying. John goes over to my dad and grandparents first. My dad fills him in on the information that the doctor gave before taking Josh to surgery. Once he has all of the details, John settles into the chair beside his wife and holds her.

  The minutes crawl by at a snail’s pace. Ryan and Jaime are over with AJ and Lexi, while Abby is curled into our father’s arms. Meghan still sits in a chair, rocking and praying. Her eyes are glued to the floor, but when they do finally glance around the room, they look so haunted and empty.

  Dean has been stationed beside me since we arrived almost one hour ago. His presence is not only comforting, but necessary. He’s the very air I breathe, and I’m not sure I’d be able to keep my sanity without him here.

  We’ve made small talk to help pass the time. Five seconds after our conversations, however, I’ve already forgotten what was discussed. My mind just keeps replaying everything about this night, from hearing about the accident all the way to waiting out the surgery. How can we go from drinking and painting, laughing and have a great time, to this?

  It seems like an eternity before the door finally opens. The doctor from earlier, along with another man in scrubs, come in, their faces void of emotions. We all stand up. The room is silent except that stupid ticking of the clock on the wall. No one moves, no one breathes. When their eyes lock on Meghan’s, I know.

  I know.

  And she does too.

  The worst cry I’ve ever heard erupts from my sister, her legs refuse to hold her body up any longer. Mrs. Harrison wails beside her before collapsing on the floor right next to Meghan. They cling to each other tightly, neither of them ready for the words that will haunt them until their dying day.

  John and my dad each help the ladies up off the floor and guide them into chairs. Both doctors sit across from them, speaking softly in hushed tones. Finally, Meghan looks up and shakes her head.

  “I’m Dr. Lopez, the neurosurgeon for Jupiter Bay Hospital. My team, along with that of Dr. Beck, did everything we could for Mr. Harrison. Unfortunately, the extent of his injuries to his chest, as well as the damage to his brain, was too severe. He passed away in surgery while we were trying to stop the bleeding.”

  Meghan’s head drops, her shoulders shaking from the force of her crying. I tune out the rest of their conversation and everyone around me. The weight of what has happened is too much to bear. I turn into Dean’s arms and cry. I cry for my sister, for the beautiful soul that was Josh, for his parents and siblings, as well as our own family, who has grown to love that man as if he had always been a part of it.

  There will never be another Josh Harrison.

  Ever.

  My heart is completely broken.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Dean

  Coming from a small family, I’ve never really experienced death like this before. Sure, my grandparents both passed away, but that happened when I was younger. I lost my uncle Frank, Kate’s husband, about five years ago, but I don’t recall it hitting me as hard as this. Yes, I was close to him, but I was also a new dad at the time of his death, and just remember going through it in a sleep-deprived daze.

  I never even met Josh, and I’m affected.

  Maybe it’s because I see the agony in Payton’s face, hear her pain in her voice, and feel it in her touch. And don’t get me started on Meghan. I can’t even look at her. Just the thought of seeing her so broken leaves me tearing up with a golf ball sized lump in my throat. Two hours ago we were smiling and laughing, and now this.

  After the doctors left, a grief counselor came into the room and talked with Meghan and Josh’s parents. His brother showed up not long after the doctors exited, and we all had to experience the loss all over again while they told Jason that his brother was gone.

  When the coroner came in, Meghan, John, Angie, and Jason all went back to view his body and start to make the final arrangements. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room while they were gone, nor a single word spoken. No one knew what to say. So instead, I just held Payton in my arms and offered her as much strength and support as I could.

  While I numbly offered cups of lukewarm coffee to Payton’s sisters, the door opened. A man I’ve not met yet walks in, his hair disheveled and his face full of worry. His eyes zero in on Lexi before he makes a beeline for her. I watch as he wraps his arms around her and buries his face in her neck. I also notice that she’s tense and doesn’t hug him back. I can only assume that’s the elusive husband who didn’t show up at The Beaver tonight.

  Now, we’re pulling into my driveway. Payton hasn’t said much since leaving the hospital. I didn’t offer to take her home, instead making the choice for the both of us to take her to my place. Her dad, whom I spoke to very little, took the rest of the girls home, while Grandma went with Meghan to the place she had shared with Josh.

  “I feel like I should be with her, you know? I don’t know what I could do, but I feel like she needs all of us right now.”

  “Your grandparents and dad are staying with her tonight. I’m sure she’s going to need all of you over the next few weeks, but your dad was right, you should try to get some sleep tonight.”

  Unlocking her seatbelt, she says, “I don’t think I can.”

  I reach over and graze my finger across her jaw. “You don’t have to sleep if you don’t want to, but I think it’ll do you some good to rest for a bit.”

  Payton looks out the window as if seeing where we are for the first time. “This is your place?”

  “Yeah,” I tell her, unbuckling my own seatbelt. “Bri is away at my mom’s tonight, so I thought we’d come here.”

  “Okay.” That one word is full of exhaustion and dejection.

  I slip out of my car and head around to help her out. Fortunately, it stopped raining some time while we were at the hospital, so at least we’re not getting soaked to the bone once again. Leading her towards the front door, I keep my arm securely around her waist as we step up to the entrance.

  Inside, I give the place a quick once-over. It’s slightly cluttered with toys and half done craft projects, but it doesn’t look too bad. There’s no funky odor or dirty socks on the living room floor so that’s a plus. Payton glances around, but I don’t think she really sees it. Her eyes have a dazed look to them, and I can see the exhaustion settling in.

  Making sure the front door is locked securely, I steer her towards the hallway and to my bedroom. It’s dark inside, but instead of turning on the overhead ligh
t, I opt for the small lamp on my nightstand. Payton is staring down at the bed, her arms wrapped around her chest in a protective manner. No, I don’t think she has to protect herself from me; I think she’s protecting herself from life, from the hurt and the pain she feels.

  “Come on, sweetheart,” I say gently, walking towards her.

  She doesn’t say a word as I grab the hem of her shirt. When she realizes what I’m about to do, she raises her arms and stands still. Together, we slowly undress her. It’s not sexual, per se, but comforting, though my wayward cock apparently didn’t get the memo. When she stands in just her bra, because dammit if I didn’t forget that she’s not wearing panties, I grab one of my long sleeved, button-up shirts from the closet. I could probably grab just a tee from the drawer, but something tells me Payton needs the familiarity.

  I remove her bra and try to not ogle her amazing breasts. It’s hard, and, well, so am I. Of course I sneak a peek before slipping the shirt over her arms. She’s giving me the slightest grin when I glance up at her face. Of course she would catch my wandering eye, but I can’t help it. I smile back at her.

  “Do you need to use the bathroom?”

  She shakes her head, her eyelids starting to droop. Grabbing her hand, I lead her towards my bed. With the covers thrown back, my breath catches in my throat at the sight of her lying there. Her warm brown hair fans across my pillow, her soft curves nestled against the bedding. She’s a goddess and doesn’t even realize it.

  It only takes me a few minutes to strip out of my own clothes, down to my boxers, and quickly use the bathroom. When I make my way back into my room, I don’t find her sleeping like I expected. I find her crying, and the sight guts me.

  Sliding into the bed beside her, I draw her against my chest and let her cry. My skin is wet from her tears, but I don’t make a move to wipe them. Instead, I swipe at her lower eyes, but as soon as one tear is swept away, a new one replaces it. There’s nothing I can say or do to take away her pain, so I choose to do what I’ve done all night: hold her.