“Evelyn Walker’s family?”
“That’s us. I’m Diesel. Her son. How is she?”
“We’ve managed to stabilize her. But I’m concerned about her overall deterioration.”
“Can we see her?” I ask, finally stepping up beside them.
Diesel glances down at me and I shrink under his hard glare. He’s barely spoken two words to me since he arrived at the house.
I suppose I deserve it, but it doesn’t stop it from hurting.
I’ve always been the thorn in his side. A loose cannon he’s struggled to contain.
It isn’t personal, I love my brother.
I love him more than anything.
But growing up in the shadow of the MC and my mom’s disease hasn’t been easy.
“She’s heavily sedated right now but I can show you up to her room.”
“Thank you, doc,” Diesel holds out his hand, and the two of them shake hands.
“I’d like to speak with you, if possible.”
Diesel nods. “Why don’t the two of you go on up to see Mom and I’ll speak to the doctor.”
“Come on, Kat.” Aunt Cassie puts her arm around me and follows after a nurse who offers to show us the way.
“How are you holding up, sweetie?” she asks me.
“I’m numb.”
Less than forty-eight hours ago, I was in the hospital, my world imploding.
Now this.
But I don’t know why I’m surprised, the universe sure likes screwing me over.
“Here we are,” the nurse says. “You can go on in. It might seem a little daunting to see her hooked up to the machines but they’re all helping her. So don’t be too alarmed, okay?”
“Thank you,” Aunt Cassie nudges me inside but the second I see Mom lying there, still and unmoving, her skin pale and clammy, I want to turn around and run.
“It’s okay,” Aunt Cassie soothes as if she can sense my panic. “Here, let’s sit down.” She leads me to one of the bedside chairs, and I sit.
“Hey, Mom.” I take her hand and lean forward, resting my chin on the bed. “I know you can’t hear me but I love you. I love you so freaking much. Don’t leave me, okay? I’m not ready to be alone. I’m not ready—”
“Fuck.” Diesel steps into the room and I meet his exhausted gaze.
“What did the doctor want?”
“We can talk about it another time.”
Code for: he doesn’t think I can handle the truth.
A fresh wave of tears spill down my cheeks as I clutch Mom’s hand.
“I want to stay with her,” I say.