by Rylon, Jayne
“What?” Eli’s tone morphed from cajoling to serious in no time flat. The hot-rodder might have mastered his cool facade, but Joe didn’t have to be told Eli led his gang of mechanics with the same natural instinct Mike used to glue their crew together. The rest of Eli’s shop was comprised of a motley assortment of kids from rocky pasts. His dad had rescued each of them after getting involved in his wife’s community outreach program following her untimely death. They’d stuck together ever since. A blend of family, yet not. It was scary how much they reminded Joe of the crew when he got to hang out with them, which wasn’t as often as he’d like, being a couple states away and all. “I was talking about Neil’s fucking Facebook post that claimed he was gonna be an honorary uncle again. And James’s comment that Morgan was going to kick his ass for spilling the beans. Assumed that had to be all you. Congratulations, daddy-o.”
Joe glanced over his shoulder to where the youngest guy in the crew fiddled with his smartphone. Devon curled under one of his arms, reading off the screen too. Joe had assumed they were playing some brainiac word game together, as usual, to pass the time and keep themselves from going insane with worry.
“Ah, right. Yes. Dad-to-be. That’s me.” How could one man be so damn happy and so torn up at the same time?
He glanced over to where Morgan had dozed off on a bench, her head resting on Neil’s thigh. The tall blond man stroked her hair idly, calming himself along with Joe’s wife. Purple smudges still stained the skin beneath her eyes, and she huddled beneath two flannel shirts the guys had sacrificed for her. He felt as though he wanted to laugh until he cried. Again.
“Dude?”
“Ah, thank you. I can hardly believe it’s finally real.”
“So, not to cut the celebration short, but what the fuck did you mean about Dave?”
Rocketing to his feet, Joe stormed around the corner, frustration bubbling to the surface. “It’s bad. We’re in the mother fucking hospital trauma center. The waiting room. We’ve been here for fucking ever. Like, six hours at least. We don’t know jack shit. Except that we’re all about to fucking go nuts. Long story short, Dave and I left work about the same time. I had to stop and pick up the pregnancy test. It took way longer than I thought. When I got home, he hadn’t made it yet.”
A horrible noise, maybe something like a sob, tangled in his throat.
“Calm down. Deep breaths, man.” Eli waited him out until he got his shit together.
“He never made it.”
“Holy shit.” Eli sounded like he might be running. Breath huffed from him. A heavy metallic crash could have come from the thick fire door, which separated the auto-body restoration offices from the garage, slamming into the cinderblock wall.
A chorus of cheers burst through the receiver.
“Woot woot!”
“Congrats, man.”
“Way to knock her up!”
Eli tried to shush them. They clearly didn’t understand.
“It’s not true?” That sounded like Sally, the lone girl Eli’s dad had brought into their fold. Tough as nails on the outside, Joe suspected she had a gooey core not so far below the surface, if only she met the right person to crack her shell.
“It is, it is,” Eli reassured them. “Alanso, clear my schedule and yours for a couple days. We’re heading out there.”
“What’s wrong, boss?” The guys loved to rile Eli by calling him that. They’d realize things were serious when he didn’t bother protesting. No time to waste.
“It’s Dave. There’s been an accident. Don’t know much yet. At the very least we can deal with his truck, get the insurance under control and take the paperwork off their hands. We know that shit inside and out.”
“You don’t have to—” Joe tried to interrupt. He shouldn’t have bothered.
Eli railroaded right over him. “Dude. Let us help. That’s what family is for. You’re going to have other shit on your plate. Double now. How is Mo, anyway?”
“Up and down.” Tension crept along his neck, infusing a dull ache in the base of his skull. “The whole reason we headed home in the first place was ’cause she was acting funny at the mall. Kay called us to give us a head’s-up. Oh, fuck. I was so pissed off there was an accident, cursing and raving like a road-raging lunatic because it was going to make me five minutes later getting back to Morgan. I detoured. Took the back way. And all that time he was lying there, hurt. If I’d gone the other way, maybe…”
“You’d have been stuck in the miles of traffic behind him. You couldn’t have helped. Not even to stand by his side. Quit it, Joe.” Eli broke him from the destructive line of reasoning. “There’s enough legitimate stuff to freak out about here.”
“No kidding. Morgan fucking passed out when she heard the news and spent several hours getting fluids at the hospital before we joined the rest of the crew. I’m worried. The stress isn’t good for her or the baby.”
“See, see.” Eli dropped to a hush. The background clanks and ratchet whirs died down, telling Joe he must have stepped outside. “Too much at once. We’ve got your back. Look, Joe. I’ll never forget the summer after my mom died when you quit your league to come out here. Baseball is everything to a fourteen-year-old, especially one as good as you were. You never blinked twice. For my dad and me. You pumped gas at the station, cooked those horrible meals and did whatever you could to keep me from going crazy. Let me do this for you.”
Joe swallowed hard. The times he’d sat shoulder to shoulder with his cousin while silent tears streaked down his cheeks were as vivid as if they’d happened yesterday. He hoped they didn’t have to repeat those sessions in reverse. Still, it’d be nice to have that kind of support, one step removed from the pain. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
“Great.” Eli sighed. “We’ll be there tomorrow around lunch. I’ll call when we’re closing in so you can tell us where to meet you.”
“Thank you.”
“You got it. Call us if…anything changes.” Eli didn’t have to spell it out.
They both knew what he meant.
“Will do.” Joe couldn’t manage more than that. He disconnected then slammed his fist into the wall. Bruised knuckles wouldn’t help the situation. Still, they gave him something else to focus on. “Son of a bitch.”
Chapter Six
“We’ll see you first thing tomorrow, okay?” Kate hugged Kayla tight enough that the bulge of her baby belly bumped into Kay noticeably.
“There’s not going to be a lot for you to do. You should sleep in as long as you can.” She patted Kate’s back. “Don’t want your little princess getting upset. Same goes for you, Mo.”
Joe didn’t argue. In the shadows of the hospital parking lot, she thought she detected frown lines around his sexy pout. He tucked his wife close to his chest.
“Okay.” Morgan nodded before glancing at James. “As long as somebody promises to text us any updates.”
“I’m on that.” He tossed her a mock salute.
“Agreed then.” Mike and Joe boosted their wives into Mike’s extended-cab pickup. Despite everything, Kay smiled softly at the picture they made. Two young families. Everything in front of them potential.
“Sweet dreams.” Kate’s wish for Kayla escaped before the door shut. The women waved as they pulled away.
“Come on, sweetheart. We were thinking we’d take you to our place since it’s closer. Just in case. Unless you’d be more comfortable at your cabin?”
“No. You’re right, Neil.” She allowed him to entwine their fingers and direct her to Morgan’s car. “It’s smarter to stay nearby. Plus, I just don’t think I could sleep in our bed knowing he’s up there…”
Neil broke her line of sight with the ultra-modern glass-and-chrome building, so unlike their craftsman cottage in the woods. Everything about the cold, concrete structure would repulse Dave. Neil picked her up and carried her across the remaining few steps to the vehicle. Even in the blackest hour of the night, its cheery neon paint glowed. He slid into the
backseat and buckled her in before attending to his own restraint. He used his sleeve to wipe rogue tears from her face.
“S-sorry.” She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed them herself. “Didn’t think I had any of those left.”
“You don’t worry about that.” Neil held her hand. “I’m sure we’re all going to be taking turns with the tissues. When someone’s down, the rest of us will shoulder the load for a while, okay?”
She nodded, with the pathetic amount of affirmation she could muster in opposition to the millions of inner voices shouting nothing would ever be all right again.
“Good night, Dave,” she whispered, craning her neck to keep his window, or one as near as she could guess, in sight as long as possible.
Devon and James occupied the front seats. The four passengers kept quiet the entire drive to her friends’ house. No one uttered a peep. Not even when they pulled in the driveway and shut off the engine. It seemed to her they all took a breath in unison, then sat, trying to muster the energy to move. Kayla might have thought she was asleep except her eyes were open and her body was quasi-responsive to her commands, if a bit sluggish and delayed. She reached for the door handle when James took action first, leaving the vehicle.
It was his turn to scoop her into his arms, surprising her as always with his deceptive strength. Though she was far from Devon’s petite build, he had zero trouble subduing her token protest and toting her up to their bedroom in no time flat.
While he held her, Devon and Neil stripped out of their work clothes.
“Do you want a shower?” James paused as they neared the bathroom.
“No. Just a warm, soft bed, please.” She hurt all over. Tension locked her muscles stiff enough to give the Tin Man a run for his money. Hours of gritting her teeth, endless bouts of crying and the uncomfortable furniture at the hospital hadn’t helped either.
“That can be arranged.” Neil smiled. Devon ran her fingers along Kayla’s shoulders as she and Neil headed for the adjoining space. “We’ll be back lickety-split. We were dry-walling earlier, gotta get this dust off before mussing up James’s fancy sheets or he’ll spank us.”
Kayla nodded, though she only listened to half of what they said.
“Damn.” James let her legs down gently. “You’re done in. Can you stand just a minute? This will go quicker if you do. I know how much you hate clothes. These have to be bugging the shit out of you after all this time.”
She wobbled but stayed upright when he released her torso and reached for the hem of her sweater.
“Lift up, honey.” He nudged her into the position required to slip her shirt over her head. Before she knew it, he’d knelt at her feet to unbutton her jeans and peel them off too. From there he probably had a great perspective on her bare essentials. She couldn’t stand binding herself with underwear in addition to the rest of the garments. Unlike any other day, he didn’t comment on her nudity. “There you go. Better?”
“Much.” She heaved a huge sigh of relief before scratching at the dent left by the button on her jeans. When she did, something funny twinged in her shoulder. A wince tugged the corners of her mouth further south.
“Sore?” James focused on her with unflinching intensity.
“Hell, yes.” She had to lie down or fall. Reaching out with one hand, she searched for the bed behind her.
James put his arm around her waist, then guided her to the lush duvet. “Roll over onto your front. I’m nowhere near as good as you, but I’ll try to work out some of the knots.”
“Mmph,” was all she could muster. He impressed her by running his hands lightly across the surface of her skin, averaging their temperatures and assessing the greatest areas of tension to target. Maybe he had been paying attention when she’d given him lessons. Usually he practiced on Neil or Devon, which led to a lot of fooling around and not so much serious massage-technique acquisition. Or so she’d thought.
The pressure of his fingers increased as he threw a thigh over her torso. Heat and softness assured her that he’d joined her in the clothes-free club for the evening. Kayla closed her eyes and took a deep breath, let it out then drew another.
“That’s right.” He crooned to her as he alternated caresses with real rubbing on either side of her spine. “You’re here with us, safe. We’ve got your back, Kayla. No matter how long or hard this journey is, we’ll be with you both.”
The gentle rush of water in the shower cut off. Kay drifted. Sometime after, probably not too long, the bed shifted and more hands joined James’s. Damp fingers traced the caricature of Dave she’d added to her back tattoo as a wedding gift to the man who’d already indelibly marked her soul.
A keening whimper ripped from her throat.
“It’s okay,” Devon whispered in her ear. “We have you. We love you. Go ahead and cry if you want.”
“Don’t. Want.” But still she couldn’t seem to halt the steady stream of agony propelling moisture from her eyes and sobs from her lugs.
Six hands roamed her body, petting her, soothing her, untangling her. Someone concentrated on her back and ass while the others paid attention to her arms, starting at the top and progressing to her fingers. When they’d turned her mostly to jelly they began again, this time on her legs.
The more her body deflated, the easier the despair tore free of her. It poured out all over the soaking pillowcase like an infection lanced from her core. Without the crew, it would have festered, eating her alive from inside.
Instead, one of her friends focused on her neck and scalp while the others erased the debilitating tautness from her thighs, knees and calves. By the time they’d touched her everywhere, imparting healing, she had cried her heart out and was left wasted.
Gasps faded to hiccups and then to sniffles. Someone wiped her nose and kissed her cheek. They had to be as exhausted as her. She reached out, surrounding a wrist with her grasp. Gauging by how her fingers wrapped around the delicate bones, it could only belong to Devon.
With a tug, she invited her friend and sometimes lover to lie beside her.
The women curled together, Devon wrapping around Kayla as she entwined them completely. James and Neil bracketed them. James snuggled up behind Devon, hugging the joined pair tight to his chest. Neil blanketed Kayla’s back. He layered his long arm over all three of the people in his bed, keeping them close. The girls, at the center of their snugglefest, were protected from anything outside their tiny sphere.
“We always promised each other we’d take care of our own if it came to that.” Neil kissed her cheek. “This is what Dave wanted for you. We’ve got you. We love you. You won’t do this on your own.”
“Thanks.” Kayla could hardly get the whisper out. “Love you too.”
She accepted Devon’s tender, reassuring goodnight kiss as the world faded to black.
Together, they managed to find some solace and rest.
The next morning brought more endless waiting, ambiguous test results and a shitload of frustration. Dave remained unconscious. Doctors granted each of the crew members five minutes to make a quick pit stop by his bedside. Neil, James and Devon had gone in first, followed by Kate, Mike and Kayla.
Joe and Morgan waited their turn.
After precisely the prescribed visitation, Mike led Kate and Kayla from Dave’s room, one arm around each of the women. Tears streamed down his wife’s cheeks.
“He had more color this morning.” Kayla sniffled.
“I thought so too.” Mike agreed. He rubbed Kate’s shoulder when she sobbed again.
“How could he have looked worse than that? He was so still. So different from his usual self.” She slumped against Mike.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. They’re keeping him sedated so he can’t feel anything or aggravate his injuries.” Mike glanced from Kate to Joe. “Maybe you’d better hold off. It can’t be good for our babies for their moms to be so upset.”
“No.” Morgan gripped Joe’s hand hard enough to be uncomfortable. “I need
to see him. To talk to him, just for a minute. I’ll be okay. I swear.”
“If you’re not, I’m hauling you out.” Joe didn’t give a shit if that pissed her off. Her safety, and their child’s, came first.
“Deal.” Her throat flexed as she swallowed hard.
Joe braced himself for a horrifying sight. A deep breath expanded his rib cage before he consciously relaxed his muscles. Tension wouldn’t help any of them. He laced his fingers tight with Morgan’s, then turned the corner into Dave’s room. Reality exceeded the worst nightmares his imagination had cooked up. Tubes formed macabre spaghetti that threatened to choke Dave, machines blipped in a symphony of discordant electronic music and wires attached to a sling supported Dave’s left thigh in mid-air, transforming him into a ghastly marionette.
Joe had overheard the surgeon tell Kayla something about pre-operative traction for proximal femoral something-or-other fractures. He’d lost track about twenty-seven syllables in. All he’d caught was blah blah blah, multiple surgeries to correct, blah blah blah.
This…this looked bad. He hadn’t ever seen something so horrific outside of a movie screen. “Holy shit.”
“Oh, Dave.” Morgan rushed to his side. The big man nearly overflowed the hospital bed, yet the bruises and bandages covering his face and jaw detracted from the aura of strength and vitality that usually surrounded him. She kissed her fingers, then laid them lightly on his shoulder, which appeared free of obvious damage. “I’m so sorry.”
“What?” Joe whipped his gaze to his wife when she began muttering apology after apology to his best friend.
“If I hadn’t been so afraid of taking that stupid test, none of this would have happened. I should have bucked up and done it a week ago, when I first started to suspect. I ignored the signs. I didn’t rest enough. Didn’t drink enough either, I guess. If I had just been responsible, you wouldn’t have been driving right there, right then. I’m so sorry. I’ll never forgive myself for doing this to you.”
