Taking a few steps back to let the nurse do her job, I cleared my throat. “Is it okay if I stay the night here with her?”
The nurse frowned with her entire tiny frame while shaking her head. “I’m afraid that’s not allowed in critical care, sir. Visiting hours start at seven and end at nine.”
I glanced down at my watch to see that I was already overstaying my welcome by an hour. Failing at forming a smile, I shoved my hands into my pockets. “All right. I’ll be on my way.”
Her kind eyes searched mine as more damned tears welled up and a lump the size of Long Island formed in my throat. “I’m Karla. I’m working all night.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a business card and a pen. “Write your cell number here. I’ll call you personally if anything happens.”
With shaking hands, I did as she asked with more gratitude than I had thought possible. “I don’t really know how to thank you for this.” My voice was weak and fading.
As I handed her back the business card, I realized how wobbly my hands were. The nerves and worry were starting to get the better of me.
“Just try to get some rest. Here.” She handed me another business card. “Just in case you get worried during the night, my cell number is on there.”
“I appreciate it.”
In what seemed like the blink of an eye, I was making my way to the parking garage on autopilot. Everything was turning into a blur. Unlocking my car, putting my seatbelt on, putting the car in drive—it all felt like I was watching a movie, not actually experiencing it myself. Pulling into the garage at my parents’ house shocked my senses awake; I didn’t even remember pulling onto Elm Street or rounding the corner onto Addison.
Throwing my keys onto my dresser, I fell back onto my king-sized bed. I didn’t know how I was still moving, breathing, thinking—I just knew I had to keep it up. Myla had to be all right and I had to be strong for her. In just one phone call, my entire life had flipped over on top of me, crushing every bit of my soul. All at once, it hit me—my anger, my rage, my temper. Within minutes, my meticulously manicured room rumbled into a mirror of the torment of my situation.
After I released all the tension, a wave of realization flooded me. As I stood in the middle of my oversized room with the glass from my mirror scattered around the floor, blood coming from my busted knuckles, and a few new holes that needed to be patched peppering my walls, I couldn’t escape the reality of the day’s occurrences any longer.
My mother was dead and my sister was in a medically induced coma because of her extensive injuries. The guilt was overwhelming. There was nothing I could have done to prevent the truck from running that stoplight or make my mother buckle her seatbelt, but I was the man of the house and the responsibility of protecting my family was mine to bear.
The hours ticked by until exhaustion took over. I was startled awake by my alarm clock chiming loudly in my ear, and I realized I was still wearing my sweats and long-sleeved shirt from the practice I had been ripped away from when the hospital called.
Checking my phone, I saw a few texts from teammates checking up on me, a few voicemails from my assistant coach, and a text from an unsaved number.
Swiping open my phone, I read words that brought tears of relief to my eyes:
Just letting you know, your sister did great overnight. I gave your number to the day nurse and will check in later to see how you two are doing. Take care – Karla.
I quickly rattled off a reply:
Thank you for letting me know. I am heading that way now. Hope you get some rest after a long night shift.
After a quick shower, a few bites of cold pizza from a few nights back, and a call to my coach, I made the drive back to the hospital.
Just be strong.
Breathe.
Deep…slow…breaths.
Everything is going to be fine.
She’s going to be fine.
Myla
Pain and confusion completely consumed every cell in my body.
“Myla?” Brayden’s voice sounded miles away. “Myla? Can you hear me?”
I tried to respond but nothing would come out. My throat was a desert begging to rain out words that formed questions and cries for help.
My hair was being stroked, but my eyes refused to open to see who was caring for me. I pictured my mother’s dainty hand gliding over my thin blonde locks as my brother tried to speak to me.
Where am I?
Why does everything hurt?
Why can’t I speak?
Why aren’t my eyes opening?
A foreign voice that was barely audible started to explain something to my brother. “…and that’s why she’s still really out of it. She will be in and out like this for a little bit longer. Why don’t we let her sleep some more and try back in a few hours?”
Sleep sounded all too blissful. I felt like Scarlett O’Hara in the scene where she is at Tara and life is just all too much for her to deal with in that moment. “I can't think about that right now. If I do, I'll go crazy. I'll think about that tomorrow.”
Soft beeping broke into my dream-filled daze as my eyelids struggled to open. Shuffling and footsteps were the next sounds I could understand.
“Mom?” My voice was raspy and strained as tears started to fill my stinging eyes.
My brother’s deep voice was kind. “No, My. It’s just me.” I could feel his fingertips brushing my long bangs away from my forehead and cheeks. “It’s nice to see you awake.”
“What?” I started choking, gasping, and coughing uncontrollably. Everything hurt—my throat, chest, legs, stomach, back, face, eyes, lips. I was shivering and sweating. My body felt like it weighed a million pounds. If my hair could have hurt, I was sure it would have been screaming in pain at that point.
“You were in an accident. Do you remember anything?” Brayden’s calm tone was freaking me out the most.
The memories of the crash started to flood my mind and I started hyperventilating. “Mom? Where’s Mom?”
Brayden’s fingers laced with mine as he started to tell me about the accident. “I’m so sorry, Myla. I don’t know how to tell you this.”
My eyes would barely open and the tears filling them made it damn near impossible to see, but the pain on my brother’s face was something I would never be able to forget. That moment was seared into my brain—the split second when life turned into a complete horror.
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Acknowledgments
To Cactruery: for four people, not just two. Thank you for fueling me while I tried to learn about these characters.
To Amy Briggs: you’re fucking amazing. Thank you for never judging my weird texts and loving me through my oddness.
To Rich: for helping my sex scenes be more and more realistic and for opening my eyes to an entire new world of intimacy.
To girls night: for hanging out while I struggled to write these acknowledgments.
To Southern Belle Book Blog: for having Holidays with the Belles where I was able to debut Brayden and Karla’s story for the first time.
To Erin: for being one of the best people I have ever met in this crazy book world. You are fabulous!
To Jordan: This book would not be what it is without you. Your notes and edits were amazing and I could never thank you enough for everything you have done for me in the short time we have known each other.
To Schwendy: Your DJ skills are on point and I love you to pieces.
To My Twin: thanks for letting me sit on your living room floor to write this section of my book. You’re my ride or die and I love you to the moon and back.
To Heather from L. Woods PR: you’re so fucking wonderful and I seriously have no idea what I would do without you.
To Patti: you are a shining light of amazingness, never forget that!
To Jessica Ham: for being my stalker 2.0 and for becoming such an amazing friend. I am so thankful that this book world has brought us together.
To Mary Catherin
e Gebhard: Girl! I don’t even know where to begin! You’re one of my best friends in this crazy world and I don’t know what I would do without you. You have talked me off ledges and rooted for me the entire way. I love you.
To Dayna: For always believing in me, even when I didn’t know how to believe in myself.
To My Spirit Animal: for being you and letting your bravery and love help me when I couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel.
To Mikey Lee: for all of your shout outs and being simply your amazing self. You’re the best giant I know.
To The SisterHood Hangout: for bringing me into your group and making me feel so at home!
About the Author
Hi! I am just an average twenty-something following my dreams. I have a full time "day job" and by night I am an author. I guess you could say that writing is like my super power (I always wanted one of those). I am a lover of wine, sushi, football and the ocean; that is when I am not wrapped up in the literary world.
Please feel free to contact me to chat about my writing, books you think I'd like or just to shoot the, well you know.
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