"Book us a flight. It's time to make my comeback and formulate a plan. You're coming with me. I'm not getting on another damn plane by myself for a while. I need to speak with my attorney. Kinzleigh should have been cut a check when they pronounced me dead. I don't know what happened, and it doesn't matter now, but until I figure out a career I need to find a place to live and start acting like a man. I can't bring a family home to live with Mom and Dad. It's going to take money for all that. It's time to cash in on my trust fund and that money I've been investing for years."
I push off the pole, not giving him any time to say anything. "We're going back home. Someone is holding onto something that is mine and I intend to get it back no matter what I have to do. I need you with me to do this, to face everyone. Can you be my wingman?"
"Sure, Brey. I'll always be your wingman. I'm offended you even have to ask. Honestly, I don't understand the feelings you have for Kinzleigh, but I can tell they're real. I'll do anything you need if it helps you get her back." I nod my head and begin walking in the direction of his truck a few rows over.
I've made the decision to try and live without her for a little while, but actually enduring it day in and day out until I get her back is going to be the hard part. It almost killed me when I wasn't sure she was real. Now that I've spent the last two days with her, survival is going to be the next step above impossible. The faster I get all of this done, the faster I can get her back and we can begin our lives together...
Chapter 1
Breyson
We pull up at my house in the rental vehicle. All vehicles seem to be present except for mine and Moms, leaving me to assume she's at work and maybe they sold mine. "Are you ready to do this?"
I look over at Ryland in the driver's seat and he looks a little pale, his knuckles turning white from the grip he has on the steering wheel. If anyone should be nervous about doing this it should be me. I have no idea how this is going to go. With Kinzleigh, I got slapped and then left. I don't know if she's in an emotional state of shock or lying to me, because frankly she wasn't herself when she told me goodbye. She acted more like a soulless person. In the time since I reappeared she has built up a wall to her emotions; emotions I used to be able to read like a book.
"As ready as I'm going to be," I say in return as I open the door to the truck and get out, walking to the front.
I stand in front of the truck, looking at the house before me. It doesn't feel like my home anymore. I feel like I'm walking into a stranger’s house. The truth is, I don't belong here anymore. Where I belong is with the beautiful blonde girl in California. Where she is, is where I belong, whether it's here or there. I feel just as lost here as I did in Spain, because she is not with me. I guess that's what happens when your soul is connected with another, but they remain absent in presence. As crazy as I want to think Lauren sounds, I'm starting to think she's right...about everything.
Is it so crazy to believe in something as romantic and mushy as soul mates, especially with the extreme and bizarre things the two of us have been through. Is feeling this way that far outside of the norm? I'll be honest, when I think of my age and how fast we fell for each other it seems fucking crazy to me, but then I imagine myself walking away, and then I really feel like a damn lunatic. That shit alone is enough to kill over.
That conversation from earlier is branded in my mind, pushing me forward. I have to do this. I have to bring her back to me. It's simple. We belong together. After so much misery and heartache we should get a fucking break. We've been through enough that the invisible monster following us should move on to the next victim for a while.
The front door appears faster than I thought it would. I guess my heart is steering my limbs this time.
I hear Ryland step up behind me as I place my hand on the doorknob. "Do you want me to wait out here?"
"Hell no. I need you with me. I need someone to be a buffer for some of the emotional overkill I'm about to endure. One person can only bear so much. I was at my limit when Kinzleigh left with our son, when she left without me." I look beside me where he is now standing. He nods, but doesn't say anything more. He doesn't need to. He knows what I need from him right now. Ryland and I have always had a brotherly connection without all of the unnecessary words being spoken. It's why we're so close.
I push the door open and the house is unusually quiet for everyone to be home. It's the first red flag. I walk inside and close the door. I still hear nothing. When I look over at Ryland he has the same look on his face: worry. "Mom, Dad, Braxton, Briar, Brylee!” I call out as loud as possible. Where the hell is everyone?
I begin searching all of the rooms in the lower floor of the house, but find nothing. "You look outside and I'll look upstairs," I say to Ryland and sprint up the stairs to the second floor. It finally dawns on me that maybe Mom wasn't at work, and maybe they all went somewhere together. Maybe they didn't sell my truck and my brothers drove it.
I get to the top of the stairs and the strangest feeling overtakes me. Without thought my feet begin walking in the direction of my room. I have no idea why, but I don't question the bad feeling I have in my gut, more so now than before; I've learned not to. When I get to the door I notice it's cracked, so I push it open.
The sight before me cuts off my circulation like a rope around my neck, leaving me unable to breathe. "Ryland!" I manage to scream out his name as the tears fall without any effort. "Fuck, Mom." I run over to her limp body lying on my bed. The panic that is consuming me is nothing I've ever experienced before.
Her hand is hanging off the bed with a pill bottle loosely enclosed inside. Pills are scattered across the floor below it. I've never seen her this way. I get to her side and wrap my arms around her. I'm crying hysterically as I pick up her limp body, unsure of what to do. "Mom, please wake up. Fuck!"
I push her eyelids open and her eyes are rolled in the back of her head. Her breathing is barely noticeable. "Ryland!" I can barely get his name out of my mouth from the anxiety and adrenaline that is coursing through my body. I've never seen her so weak. She's always been such a strong woman. I should have come sooner. Why the hell didn't I come back earlier?
I finally hear Ryland running up the stairs and he barrels through my bedroom door. His eyes widen to the size of saucers as he takes in what is laying across my lap. I feel her pulse and it's still there, but weak. My heart feels like it has been squeezed with a pair of forceps at the point of bursting in two. "Please, call an ambulance! Call a fucking ambulance," I scream.
He pulls out his phone with shaky hands and dials the number. I'm not even listening to him talk as I rock back and forth with my mother in my arms like a baby. "What the hell were you thinking, Mom? Please don't die. Dammit, wake up." I begin frantically slapping her face in an attempt to get some kind of response out of her. She's a doctor for fuck's sake. She knows what that shit does. How long has she been like this? Why would they leave her alone if she was in this kind of condition? Signs are always fucking there if you pay attention.
"Ava, we're home." I can hear my dad calling out her name from the front door. He's talking to someone calmly, as if nothing is even fucking happening. I begin to get mad. Ryland is spitting out my address into the phone for the dispatcher. I'm two seconds away from driving her myself.
I stand with her in my arms and run through the bedroom door, Ryland following behind closely. They are standing at the bottom of the stairs, but look up when they hear my footsteps as I descend from the upper floor. It's Dad and Braxton standing next to Briar. I'm not sure where Brylee is.
Braxton drops the cell phone he's holding in his hand and I can hear the screen shatter against the tile floor. Every one of them looks like they've seen a ghost. They aren't speaking, or even acknowledging Mom is hanging onto her life by a thread in my arms. "Are y'all just going to stand there or freaking help me so she doesn't die?"
They are blinking and rubbing their eyes as if they are trying to figure out if this is some kind of a dream.
I get how odd this is, but there are more important matters at hand. I finally got my existence and family back, I sure as shit am not losing them now. "Breyson?" Braxton is the first one to speak, but it comes out like a question instead of a statement.
"Yeah, Brax, it's me. Snap out of it. Mom needs help." His mouth falls to the floor almost, and Dad takes off in a sprint across the floor. I guess his physician reflexes finally kicked in. It's more of a blur, but suddenly he's standing in front of me, holding my face between his hands.
"Son...you're here? Where the hell have you been?" His voice is not coming out louder than a whisper. A tear falls down his now aged face as he searches my eyes for answers to all the questions scrolling through his mind. I can't recall a time I've ever seen Dad cry. If I have, I don't remember. The men in my family aren't criers.
It kills me to see them so hurt, which brings me back to the present matter at hand. "Dad, can we please talk about this later? Mom is messed up...I think she took pills."
As if he is just now realizing she's even in the room he looks down. "Oh, God. Ava, what have you done?" He grabs her from my arms into his own. "Please, baby, wake up. He's back, baby. Come back to me." He kisses her on the lips and anything whole I had left inside of me just shattered. I've never seen Dad so panicky. He's always the most laid back person of anyone I know, even in disastrous situations, but this could be his ruin. I now understand an increment of how it feels to feel like you're losing your heart and soul.
I stare down at my mother. Her lips are starting to turn blue. "Where are the fucking paramedics?" In a state of panic I scream. As the last word exits my mouth, I hear the sirens sound outside the door. My heart is beating out of my chest. I've worked too hard to get back here to start losing the ones I love. No matter what I have to do I will find happiness and normalcy again. If this is the work of Satan, he can go fuck himself. This is war...
***
I sit in the lobby chair of the hospital, my attempt at waiting patiently as they pump my mother's stomach. How did all of this happen? The woman I knew was always so strong and sure of everything, and now she's trying to kill herself? Why? She believes in saving people, not killing them.
Dad sits in the chair next to me. Braxton and Briar went to the cafeteria to get something to eat since we can't see her yet. Brylee is at a friend’s house, but Dad told her to stay there for now. I lean forward, placing my forearms on top of my thighs and look down at the floor. I'm so worried I can't think straight. The woman I've lived with for eighteen years could die.
Dad takes a knee in front of me, grabbing me by the back of the neck with both hands. I look up at him with tears in my eyes. His expression matches mine. I can see the muscle in his jaw working back and forth as he tries to gather his thoughts. It's been a long time since I've looked my father in the eyes. "It's good to have you home, Son." He's trying so hard not to break down in front of me, but he's failing miserably. His wet cheeks are the first that gives him away.
He pulls me in with force, crashing my face into his broad chest. It takes a lot of humility to bring a grown man down to his knees, especially one of his stature. He begins to weep outside of my ear. This is one of those moments that you don't have very often with a parent. For some reason they are always trying to act ten feet tall and bulletproof in front of their kids. This is that moment when you sit and cry together with no shame. "Where have you been, Son?"
He sounds out of breath and weak. It's unfamiliarity with him. He lets me go and backs up enough to look at me. He continues to hold the back of my neck and the side of my face in his hands as he studies every feature on my face, no doubt double checking to make sure he's not crazy. I stare back. It feels good to see someone that looks like me. It gives me a reassurance that I'm where I belong. I'm not an orphan after all. "Where you been," he whispers in question, repeating himself.
"For now, know that I was in the closest place I could get to home," I say in response, not ready to elaborate. It's not much of an answer, but it's all I've got. There is no way to explain where I've been to someone that hasn't experienced it. He nods, and stands to take a seat beside me. There is one thing that Dad has always been good at and that's to let it go when he knows you don't want to talk about it any further. He has that father's intuition.
I continue to stare straight ahead at the passing nurses and doctors, carrying on as if there aren’t people in this hospital holding onto their lifeline with all they have. Dad puts his arm around me and squeezes my shoulder in his right hand. "She hasn't been well since we found out you were in an accident. A few months ago it got worse. She took a leave at work and she stayed in bed constantly. She started having nightmares, screaming your name. She was dying on the inside with every waking day. I didn't know what else to do." He breathes out.
He looks over at me. "I thought she was getting better. I never knew she would do something like this." His matching blue eyes are faded and worn out. "You were actually in a plane accident, right? This wasn't all for nothing?" Anyone else would wonder how he has the audacity to ask a question like that, but I can see how much they are hurting and how the thought could pass through someone's mind that I would just run off. It happens to people all the time.
The visions of that night start replaying in my mind, reminding me of what I went through and what I somehow survived. I nod and my eyes lose focus. "Yeah, I was, but I don't think I'm ready to talk about it yet. I've got too much on my mind right now with Mom, and Kinzleigh; my son."
"You know?" He looks at me with a confused expression. I suppose the situation would seem strange to an outsider. It's still strange to me.
"Yes. I know. I was there when he was born." I place my hands over my face, trying not to cry again, but I seem to be having a hard time getting my heart and brain to agree. My mind is trying to be strong, but my heart is in mourning. As the vision of that car pulling away with the two most important people to me resurfaces, I break down.
Some guys my age probably wouldn't give a shit. Hell, some of them would see this as an easy way out, but not me. When you find the girl that consumes you, completes you, and captivates you, nothing else matters. Football used to be my dream, but now my dream is a life with her. Dreams are worth fighting for. A life in love is so much better than a life filled with booze, sex, and partying. No one is prepared to be a parent at eighteen, but you have to play the game with the cards you're dealt.
In hindsight, I would have been more careful, because this is going to affect both of our lives, but I would rather give up my dream and work for a living if it means I can have my family together. If you're going to fuck around carelessly, you have to be prepared for the consequences. Kinzleigh's the only girl I was careless with. My family raised me to take responsibility for my actions, whether it was something I wanted or not. Any boy can conceive a kid, but only a man stays and raises it. The alternative, the option she's giving me, is not going to work for me. I need her like I need the blood coursing through my body.
"If you went there before you came here then where is she?" He asks that question, because when I was here we were inseparable. I want that year back plus some. Everything bombards me like a tidal wave crashing against my body.
"She left me." There is no way to feel like a man right now. Every time I feel like I'm taking another step forward towards the light, the fucking darkness follows me, smoldering it. It cuts off my circulation, my air supply. The only thing in existence that can defeat the monster that wants to consume me is her. Her absence is the only thing that can ruin me. I will armor up. I will win.
"Dad, I need your help." It's time to start asking for help some. I have things bigger than me right now that have to be done if I'm going to win her back, starting with a place to live. I've never known Kinzleigh to go back on her word. "Anything, Son. What is it?"
"I need some help getting back on my feet. I need to finish my diploma so I can go to college and I need to figure out a place to live. I have a kid now. I won't stop
until she's mine again. I won't live with half of me missing. I need to figure out how to cash in on my investment accounts and my trust fund until I can find a job. Kinzleigh should have already been the primary beneficiary, but according to her she's staying because he can support them; therefore, I need to find out what happened with my attorney. Her warped view that I would be happier without her is horse shit, but the other is a legitimate reason that needs to be rectified as soon as possible."
I look up at him from the floor. It pisses me off to ask for help, because we've always been taught independence, but it's something I'll have to get over…for now. "Consider it done as soon as we get your mom out of here, okay?" I nod and lean my head back against the wall behind me.
"Abercrombie family?" My head snaps forward and a tall, slender man with a pair of scrubs is standing at the entrance to the waiting area. I jump to my feet at the same time as Dad.
We come to a stop in front of him. "Brooks," he says, addressing my father. He releases a breath before he continues in a hushed tone. "She's going to be fine, but I'm going to have to keep her on suicide watch for a while before I can discharge her. It's a state requirement. There is nothing I can do to get around it, fellow physician or not. I will do everything I can to keep her admittance discrete. This could ruin her reputation to practice medicine at this hospital. She's a damn good doctor. Something like that would be a huge misfortune."
Dad looks a little sick. I am guessing this is the first time since we brought her in that he's thought of this from a career aspect. Mom always loved her job. She said bringing babies into this world was her calling, and something she's wanted to do since she was old enough to have a dream. "What's the damage," Dad asks. "She's been through enough with the...death." He pauses and looks at me briefly. "Or assumed death of our son. This isn't like her. She's been in mourning for over six months. She can't lose anything else important to her."
Lasting Fate Page 2
