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“You brought that girl and her thug boyfriend into our lives. I told you... I told you she would ruin you.”

Guilt wrenched through me, squeezing my heart like a vise. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“But it did.” Disappointment drenched his words. “Your mom may never recover from this, and for what? Because you wanted to prove a point and date the Hernandez girl.”

That wasn’t it at all. But words failed me. It was hard to argue with him when Mom was lying there hooked up to machines because of Jermaine. A guy who never would have entered our lives if it wasn’t for Mya.

Pain splintered through me. I didn’t think it was possible to feel more hurt than I had when I saw Dad cradling Mom’s body, blood covering her, fear shining in her eyes. But I was slowly realizing there wasn’t a limit on how much agony a person could feel. I hadn’t only almost lost Mom tonight, I’d lost Mya too. The one person who made everything seem brighter was now the one person who would forever be a reminder of this moment. Of standing here and watching my mom lifeless and pale in a hospital bed.

I pushed all thoughts of Mya out of my head. Right now, I needed to concentrate on my family.

“I need to make a call,” Dad said suddenly, pacing across the room. “I trust you’ll stay with her?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll be back.” His tone was cold, sending chills up my spine.

I dropped into the chair beside Mom and let my head fall back, closing my eyes. The last four hours felt like a bad dream. People in Rixon didn’t get shot. But it wasn’t a dream, and Mom had been shot by my girlfriend’s ex. It was hard to believe that only a couple of days ago I was planning our future and now I couldn’t think past the next hour or the one after that.

My cell phone vibrated, and I pulled it out of my pocket, wincing at the blood still streaked over my hands.

Mom’s blood.

* * *

Mya: Felicity said your mom is stable. That’s good, Ash... really good. I’m thinking of you both. You know where I am if you need me xo

* * *

I stared at the screen for a couple of seconds, before powering it off and placing it on the small nightstand. My head wasn’t in the right place to deal with Mya, not yet. Things were different now, I knew that. She had to know too. But I didn’t want to say something I might regret later down the line.

Running a hand over my face, I dropped my weary gaze to Mom again. It was inconceivable how someone who looked so peaceful could be walking the thin line between life and death.

“You have to pull through,” I whispered, the words ripping out my heart. “I need you, Mom. I need you.”

She was the one redeeming thing about our family, the glue that bound our fragile state together. Without her, we would be nothing.

Tears rolled down my face as I let my worst fears take hold.

She had to pull through.

Because if she didn’t, the hole she would leave behind would be irreparable.

Four days.

I sat by my mom’s side for four days, waiting, hoping, praying the doctors would give us the news we wanted to hear.

But four days passed and nothing changed.

Her condition was stable, but the doctors didn’t want to prematurely wake her for fear of sustained damage to her brain from the severe blood loss.

“Hey, man,” Cam slipped into the room, bringing me a fresh coffee. I’d lived on the stuff since I figured everyone would frown if I sat here drowning my sorrows at the bottom of a bottle of whisky.

“Thanks.” I sipped at the cup, barely tasting it.

“How is she?”

“The same.” I rubbed my face. “It’s weird, you know. I’ve been used to not having her around much. But this is fucking torture. Knowing she’s right there but might never...” I swallowed down the swell of tears.


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