Bad Wolf

by Jo Raven

  “What’s going on?” one of them asks. “Who are you?”

  “He’s her son,” the other one says, and I vaguely recognize him from my visits here. “Just give her the sedative, Jimmy. She’ll be fine.”

  I don’t move as this Jimmy lifts a small bottle, shakes it and adds it to the IV going into Mom’s hand.

  “What’s wrong with her?” I whisper. “She’s never done this before.”

  “She’s getting worse,” Jimmy says. “Quick deterioration, that’s what one of the doctors said. So you’re her son?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “Yes,” the second nurse says, ignoring me. “He’s here every other day. I think it’s safe to leave him with her.” He turns to me. “If you want to stay, that is.”

  I don’t know what the hell I want. “What else did the doctor say? Why didn’t anyone tell me about this… this quick deterioration?”

  What is it supposed to mean?

  But the two nurses are already walking out of the room, and Mom is dozing in her chair. Cold sweat has drenched my back, and my heart won’t stop racing.

  What the fuck was this, what the fuck? Why was she so scared of me? Why couldn’t I understand what she was saying? Why…?

  Dragging myself to my feet, I reach out to touch her, and stop.

  I walk out and close the door quietly, then head to the reception desk to get some answers.

  I don’t go over to Gigi’s to spend the night.

  Instead I sit in the dark in my bedroom and try not to think of what the doctor I spoke to said about Mom’s condition.

  Worsening. Quick deterioration was accurate. They don’t know why for some patients the condition advances so much faster than for others.

  Eventually, I roll on my side, grab my phone and shoot Gigi a quick message to let her know not to wait for me, that I’ll crash at the apartment. It’s way past midnight when I send it, and I don’t expect a reply. She’s probably long asleep by now.

  I still stare at the dark screen of phone on the nightstand for hours. When trying not to think, I still can’t stop thinking about her.

  Damn, I miss her. How can I miss her when I was with her last night?

  I wish I could haul her into my arms right now, let her soft body chase away the cold fear. She speaks softly, touches me softly, moves softly. I crave that. Now that I’ve been with her, I dunno how I can go back to my life.

  How to live without her.

  I close my eyes and a reel passes in front of them. Memories of running in the yard with Connor, flying a kite, learning to fish. Then older times, older memories surfacing, gilded and fading, of my real parents—a playground, a toy car, a huge tree with a swing. Smiling faces. A sense of safety and joy.

  No, dammit. Don’t wanna remember those good times.

  Moments like this, I envy Mom’s lost memory. She’s only kept the good parts. I wish I could forget it all.

  And then I feel like an ass for even thinking that.

  Christ, Jarett. Stop the pity party. Do something about the mess you’re in.

  I could go find Gigi and lose myself in her.

  But my jaw throbs and my ribs ache, and if she sees the bruises she will ask questions, and I’ll have to answer, because it’s getting harder and harder to lie to her. To keep the truth hidden.

  So I roll on my back and stare at the ceiling, counting the cracks and stains, waiting for morning.

  But before dawn breaks, my phone rings.

  “Merc isn’t answering his phone, and I don’t know what to do, I just… couldn’t think of who to call,” Gigi wails into the phone. Then, “Crap, I shouldn’t have called you. Sorry, I just, sorr—”

  “Gigi, breathe.” I swing my legs off the bed, instantly alert. “What’s the matter?”

  She doesn’t seem to hear me. “You didn’t answer last night and didn’t come by, and I should have known you don’t want to see me. Oh God, I should’ve called Syd—”

  “I wanted so damn much to see you,” I tell her earnestly, cutting through her stream of breathless words. “Something came up. Listen to me, Gigi.”

  “What?” Now she sounds close to crying.

  Fuck. Can’t stand the thought of her crying. “Tell me what’s going on. Did something happen?”

  “Okay, okay.” She draws a shallow breath. “Mom twisted her ankle and can’t walk, and her boyfriend is out of town, and Tati’s gone into labor, and there’s a complication, and I can’t go to be with her because of Mom, and Merc won’t answer his frigging phone.” A hiccupping sob. “Don’t know what to do.”

  “Tati… That’s your sister, right?” I try to think, my brain woolly and foggy from lack of sleep. “Why are you so damn worried? I mean… her husband is with her, right?”

  “Yes! But the… the fetal monitoring showed the baby isn’t getting enough air, and they will do a C-section, and… I need to be with her.” Another hiccupping sob, and I’m already on my feet.

  “I’m on my way to you.” I shove my feet into my boots and grab my jacket. “I’ll find Merc. Don’t worry, girl. Everything will be okay.”

  More promises, but I don’t fucking care. It will be okay, because the contrary ain’t an option. I’m taking care of my girl, no matter the cost.

  Which leaves the problem of how to locate Merc. Where the hell can he be? Out partying, I’ll bet. Drinking, like any guy his age on a Friday night. Or Saturday morning, by now.

  After requesting an Uber, I call Seb.

  He answers after a few rings. “Should’ve blocked your number, shithead. Whatcha want now?”

  Gritting my teeth, I tell myself this isn’t the time to start a yelling match. Besides, he’s probably high. “Need a favor.”

  He snorts. “What makes you think I’d do anything for you, you fuck-ass bitch, you don’t—”

  “Just do me one goddamn favor for once, you fucking asshole!”

  I’m panting hard, and there’s silence at the other end of the line. I start lowering the phone from my ear, resigned to the fact that my brother won’t help me the one time I ask for his help. As if I didn’t know, but hope dies last, or so they say.

  His voice, tinny through the phone speaker, stops me. “Tell me what you need.”

  I’m so damn shocked that the Uber arrives and I stare at the car, the phone back at my ear, speechless.

  The driver gestures at me to climb in, and I do, still in a daze. “Hey, okay. I need to find this guy. Merc. Mercury Watson. He’s probably in one of the bars near the college campus, or a house party. Dunno. His sister needs to contact him. Can you find him for me?”

  Seb curses. “Seriously? What am I, a bloodhound?”

  “You always say you know people. I’ll bet you can find him and tell him to call his sister within the hour.”

  “Fuck you, Fen. I’ll find him for you, just to show you I can, but don’t expect any more favors.”

  As if I’d ever expect anything from him.

  I hang up and stare out the window at the waking city, still unable to believe Seb said he’d help me. I’d called him because I couldn’t think of anybody else to call, anybody else who’d step in and help me.

  And that’s just fucking sad, right? Fucking pitiful.

  So I close my eyes and pretend it doesn’t matter.

  I arrive at Gigi’s house to find her at the door, her eyes red-rimmed. I haul her into my arms without a word, and she shakes against me.

  “I don’t know why I’m so scared,” she whispers. “But Matt sounded concerned, and Mom is upset she can’t go, and I just… panicked, I guess.”

  “It’s okay.” I kiss the top of her blond head. “It’s understandable. Too many things at once to worry over. How’s your mom?”

  “Unhappy. Her ankle is the size of a melon. She should have it x-rayed, but right now she just wants to be with Octavia, and I can’t even help her walk.”

  “I’ll help her. She can have the x-ray at the hospital where your sister is. I’ll get h
er outside, you ask for the Uber, and we’ll take her together.”

  Her eyes are wet when she looks up at me, but her mouth curves into a smile. “I love you, Rett.”

  And those words change everything.

  They let me see what matters most.

  And break me to fucking pieces.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Gigi

  The doctors are good. They know what they’re doing. Octavia is in good hands.

  That’s what I keep telling myself as I wait for the Uber to arrive, standing at the door, in the cold of dawn.

  They’ll make sure my sister and her baby are okay. But I know I won’t rest until I’m there, close to her, to both of them.

  “Ready,” Jarett says from behind me, and I turn to find him with my mom held in his arms. Her eyes are wide, and she’s holding on to him like she’s afraid he’ll drop her, but his face barely shows any strain.

  The sight makes me smile through my fear. “Okay, Mom?”

  She nods frantically. “Jarett says we’re going to your sister?”

  “Yes.”

  Right on cue, the Uber arrives, and we pile inside, Jarett carefully placing my mom in the back seat and climbing in beside the driver.

  And we’re off to the hospital, at last.

  Mom grips my hand and squeezes. I squeeze back, and we smile shakily at each other.

  We both turn to look at Jarett’s dark head.

  “Told you he’s a good boy,” Mom stage-whispers to me. “Didn’t I?”

  He’s the best guy in the world. I can’t even express how much his coming to my rescue means to me, can’t say how deeply it touched me.

  Even if I told him I love him, and he didn’t say it back.

  The hospital buzzes like a hive. We somehow find a wheelchair for Mom—though I have the feeling she was a bit reluctant to let Jarett put her down, clinging to him as he lowered her to the seat.

  I hide a small grin, because I know exactly what it feels like to be in his arms, surrounded by all the strength and warmth and protectiveness, and I can’t blame her.

  A receptionist takes Mom’s info. I take the opportunity to call Matt once more, see how things are progressing.

  “Gigi.” He sounds so much calmer than I expected, than I feel. “How’s your mom?”

  “Mom’s fine, the question is how’s my sister?” I swallow hard, aware my voice is rising. “How is she?”

  “Doctor says the C-section may be necessary, but they’re monitoring the baby’s heartbeat for now. It seems it’s not as off as they thought.”

  “Off?” I frown, glancing at the receptionist. Jarett is talking to her, his hands on the handles of the wheelchair. “Okay, that’s… good, right?”

  “No fucking clue,” Matt says, and suddenly sounds exhausted. “She’s having contractions, and is in pain, and nobody will really tell me what’s going on.”

  My heart thumps in my chest. “Tell Tati I’ll be there very soon. We brought Mom to have her ankle x-rayed, make sure it’s not broken. I’m right here, and I’ll find you in ten, twenty minutes tops.”

  “Okay. She’s been asking for you. I’ll be glad to see you, Gigi.”

  I hang up to find Jarett rolling Mom to one side of the waiting room. “Wait for me.”

  “You go find your sister,” he says, shoots me a faint smile. “I’ve got this.”

  “Yeah, go to Octavia,” Mom says, waving a hand at me. Her face looks much better, I notice, more relaxed, the lines around her eyes and mouth smoother. “I’ll be fine.”

  I don’t need to be told twice. I hurry over to them, bend to give her a kiss on the cheek, then grab Jarett’s arm and lift up on my toes to kiss him, too.

  He turns and our lips brush. He draws an uneven breath, his cheekbones coloring. “I’ll find you later.”

  Nodding, I call Matt again to find out exactly where they are and hurry away, knowing he will.

  Because if there’s one thing I know by now for sure when it comes to Jarett is that he keeps his promises.

  My phone rings as I hurry through endless hallways, asking a thousand people on the way for directions. I fish it out of my purse and bring it to my ear, wondering if it’s Mom or Matt calling me.

  Turns out it’s neither of them.

  “Sis? What’s up?”

  “Merc. I’ve been calling and calling. Where the hell are you?”

  “Sorry, sis, was at a party. A Sebastian found me, said to call you. Said Jarett owes him? What’s this about?”

  Wow. He did it. Jarett said he’d find Merc, and he did it, even if it meant asking a favor from his horrible brother.

  “You chose a bad night to go off grid.” The heels of my boots clack on the floor as I take another hallway. “Mom twisted her ankle, and Tati’s in labor and the baby may be in distress. You have to—”

  “Whoa, what? You serious? You fucking with me?”

  “No, Merc, I’m not. Get your ass over to the hospital right now.”

  He huffs. “On my way.”

  He disconnects and just in time, as I finally locate the door with a sign for the right wing. Heart pounding, torn between worry about my sister and gratefulness for Jarett, I open it, and the first thing I see is Matt pacing in the distance.

  Okay, I found them.

  And now I’m here, cold sweat running down my back, I don’t know what the hell to do. I hurry toward him, and he doesn’t notice me until I’m right in front of him.

  “Gigi. You made it.”

  Duh, I want to say but just nod. The relief in his voice is loud and clear. He’s stressed, he doesn’t need my sarcasm.

  “Where are the kids?” Matt’s kids, Mary and Cole, are very close with my sister. They call her Mom now. It’s sweet.

  “With my mother. Seeing Octavia in pain isn’t good for them.”

  True. Not good for him, either, obviously. “Where is she? What’s going on?”

  “She’s with Layla. They both kicked me out.”

  Laughing now might not be the best idea. Also hugging him. He looks like a prickly bear someone woke up from hibernation.

  Also, Layla is probably the best person to be with my sister right now. She’s Matt’s sister-in-law and has two kids, so she knows all about having babies, I guess.

  “What did the doctor say?”

  “Nothing new. Waiting, monitoring. They still think a C-section would be best, though. Dammit, Gigi…”

  I give in and give my bear of a brother-in-law a hug. He engulfs me in his arms, and I hug him awkwardly back, patting his sides.

  “She’ll be fine,” I whisper, and now it’s me giving reassurances. The world has clearly gone batshit. “Where’s your brother?”

  “Kaden went to get us some coffee. He said we’ll need it.”

  Coffee sounds good, even if my stomach is twisted in knots. I want to go see my sister, hold her hand, reassure her—but I have the same problem I imagine he has: seeing her in pain won’t be easy.

  I take a bracing breath to ask which one is her room, or ward or whatever—when a doctor hurries to us, to Matt.

  “Mr. Hansen.” It’s a young guy in pale blue scrubs and a kind, tired face.

  “Yeah? What is it?” I’ve never seen him go pale like that, I swear. “Is something wrong?”

  “We’re going to prep your wife for the C-Section. If you want to be with her…”

  “Shit, yeah, of course.”

  “Can I come, too?” I start after them as they hurry toward a set of white doors. “I’m her sister—”

  “Just the husband, I’m afraid,” the young doctor says over his shoulder.

  Well, crap. “Is she going to be okay? And the baby?”

  “Yes, everything looks okay,” he says, although if that were true, why would they do a C-section?

  Truth or lie, the doors close in my face, and I skid to a stop.

  I didn’t even get to see her. Does she know I’m here?

  Oh shut up, mind. This isn’t about me, it
’s about her, and I’ll be the first person at her bedside the moment she’s out. I’m here in case my sister needs anything.

  Anything at all.

  I call Mom to tell her what’s going on, and text Merc and Jarett about it, too.

  When a person sits down beside me some time later, I fully expect to see Merc, but it’s not my tall, little brother.

  It’s Jarett.

  “How you holding on?” he asks in his deep voice, and I shiver.

  “Okay. She’s in the surgery now. Just waiting.”

  His hand searches for mine, grips it in a bruising hold.

  It feels good, grounding me, and I smile at him. “How’s Mom? Where did you leave her?”

  “With Merc. He called her, said he’s staying until the doctor is done with her, and then will bring her over here.”

  “How’s her ankle? What did the x-ray show?”

  “Still waiting for the doctor.”

  I nod, look down at our entwined hands. So much I want to tell him. I want to thank him again, tell him again I love him. But I don’t. The words are lodged somewhere in my throat and won’t come out.

  Time passes. He’s quiet, too, as he rubs his thumb in small, gentle circles on the back of my hand, his lowered lashes long and dark, hiding his eyes.

  The fact he’s here, it means so much to me. It means everything. What I know about it, all my carefully collected clues, they don’t matter. With tonight’s gesture, he’s swept them off the table, ended the game.

  He’s the kindest man I know.

  And just like that, I find my voice again. “Thank you for finding Merc,” I whisper. “For coming here with me.” He turns toward me, and I notice for the first time that his jaw is bruised. I disengage my hand from his, lift it to his face, but he flinches, turns away. “What happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You got into a fight?”

  His jaw clenches. “I didn’t, Gigi. They started it and ended it.”

  “Who’s they? Your gang?”

  He says nothing.