The Hail You Say

by Lani Lynn Vale

At least not until we pulled into the driveway and saw my brother, Dante, as well as Rafe standing there.

  Dante was a surprise.

  He’d been making himself scarce after an accident had claimed the lives of his children and wife—an accident that had been caused by our sister.

  I couldn’t blame him for his withdrawal, though. I’d almost experienced that myself just a couple short weeks ago, and just living a few hours of my life thinking that Krisney wouldn’t be in it for much longer had felt like I’d been repeatedly punched in the chest.

  How Dante lived it, day in and day out, was a phenomenon to me.

  “Dante,” Krisney breathed.

  I looked over at her as I shut the truck off.

  “That’s his daughter,” I murmured.

  Dante was holding his child—a little girl by a woman who was no longer in the picture—and staring at us through the windshield of my truck.

  “Hmmm?” she breathed.

  “Nobody told you that particular little tidbit?”

  She didn’t answer, completely forgetting the box of leftovers that she’d insisted we bring home.

  She climbed out and then shuffled the length of the driveway that separated her from Dante, walking straight up to him and wrapping her arms around him.

  My breath caught in my throat at the sight.

  Dante looked broken all over again for a few long seconds as he held Krisney closely, and then patted her gently on the upper back, whispering something softly in her ear as he did.

  The jealousy that I would’ve felt with any other one of my brothers wasn’t there. All that was there was a sense of hope. A tiny little flicker as I hoped and prayed that maybe, just maybe, Dante was healing. And when he was done healing, he would come back to us.

  The moment was there and gone in less time than it would take to recite the alphabet, but the hope that was taking root in me, despite the perilous situation we were in, was enough to make me feel happy.

  “I had your place wired.”

  I looked up to find Rafe staring at me expectantly.

  “Thanks?”

  He snorted.

  “I had a guy install it. Came down from Kilgore to do it. He’s going to be monitoring this off site, and any problems that he sees while he’s monitoring it, he’ll forward straight to the police department, Detective Cree’s phone, as well as mine and your brothers.”

  I blinked.

  “So, I have nannies?”

  Rafe shrugged.

  “If that’s how you want to look at it,” he shrugged.

  My eyes narrowed.

  “What are you really doing here?” I asked. “You’re not here because you’re working for my brother and need a job.”

  His eyes held mine. “No, I’m not.”

  I growled.

  “Rafe…”

  “Rafe can’t talk to you, just like he can’t talk to the rest of us. When it’s done, he’ll be leaving. Until then, just let him do what he does best.”

  “And what the fuck is that?”

  Krisney placed her hand on my chest, and all anger fled.

  I didn’t even know why I was mad.

  I just knew that I had to be mad at someone, and both of the men standing in front of me were convenient targets.

  “I don’t have the answers you’re looking for right now,” Dante said. “But when I do, you’ll know.”

  Which pretty much meant he had some information that he wasn’t willing or able to share.

  Typical Dante.

  “Whatever,” I muttered. “Can you at least tell me what it has to do with Caria, Krisney and me?”

  “That,” Dante said, “has nothing to do with him. Rafe is here for a completely different reason.” He paused. “He’s just willing to help out while he’s here when he has some downtime.”

  Rafe looked like he would’ve added more, but the little girl in my brother’s arms—my niece—stirred.

  She was a little bit of a thing—or at least I’d have thought that before I’d met my children.

  Dante started to bounce her, but Krisney put her hand on his forearm. “If I go inside, can I hold her? Let y’all talk for a minute?”

  Dante looked like he was reluctant to give her up, but he nodded once and followed her inside, leaving Rafe and me alone long enough that I could say a few words.

  “If my brother’s in trouble, I want to know.”

  Rafe nodded once.

  “Is he?”

  Rafe’s eyes studied me.

  “Not yet,” he said. “But he’s right. I don’t have any information. Not any more than when I came here. But I’ll find it.”

  With that he disappeared into the shadows until he blended in with the night.

  “Rafe leave?”

  I looked over my shoulder at Dante. “Yeah.”

  “Did he tell you anything?”

  I looked at my brother, studying how he’d changed over the last year.

  He was harder. Darker. Less receptive to talking.

  It was funny, really.

  Dante was the big brother. The protector.

  Now he looked like a man possessed. Like something was on the tip of his tongue, and he was about to let the whole fuckin’ world have it.

  And honestly? Maybe he was.

  Maybe he was going to fuck everybody up, and it was only a matter of time.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” he barked.

  “Yes,” I answered his earlier question. “He told me this whole sordid tale that centers around you and everything—everyone—that you’ve decided to hurt.”

  His eyes flashed for a moment, as if I’d hit home with those few pointed words, but just as suddenly as it appeared it was gone.

  “Rafe didn’t tell you anything.” he snorted. “Not if he wants to fuckin’ live, anyway.”

  I tilted my head and stared at him.

  “What are you doing here, Dante?”

  He turned his head and studied the darkened street where Rafe had disappeared.

  “It’s time.”

  “It’s time for what?”

  “To return to the land of the living.”

  “Why?”

  I had a feeling it had a lot to do with the little girl that was currently inside with Krisney.

  The little girl that we only got to see once in a blue fucking moon—IE, when one of us brothers got hurt.

  Tobias. Travis. Baylor. Me.

  “Because I have some unfinished business.”

  “What kind of unfinished business?”

  “The kind that I don’t want to talk about right now,” he amended. “But when I do, you’ll be the first to know.”

  I growled.

  “Dante, that’s bullshit, and you know it.”

  He looked away.

  “It’s got nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me.” He took a deep breath. “I…it’s a mistake I’m rectifying. Once I have it all figured out…I’ll be back.”

  “You’ll be back,” I repeated. “Why? How?”

  “Sometimes the darkness hurts,” he whispered. “I’m…fucking tired of seeing only black. I want to see sunshine again. I want to be a better person. Mary needs me to dig my way out, and that’s what I’m doing.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that.

  “I need a favor, though.” He returned his gaze to me.

  “Anything.”

  I didn’t even hesitate.

  I could tell I surprised him, causing me to grin.

  That grin quickly fell with what he had to say next.

  “If I die…”

  “Dante…”

  He held up his hand to stop me from speaking.

  “If I die, you have to take care of Mary.”

  “You know I will,” I said. “We all will.”

  He nodded once. “I need to go…just remember one thing.”

  I waited
for him to say what he had to say, and immediately regretted letting him say it.

  “You’re stronger than what you think. I’ve always admired you.” He looked at his hands. “Don’t let her go. Don’t waste even a second.” He took in a shaky breath. “Don’t be like me. Don’t take one single freakin’ second for granted…because sometimes they don’t make it home like you’re expecting them to. Sometimes life rips your soul to shreds and then expects you to go on living as if your heart wasn’t just ripped right out of your chest.”

  I closed my eyes.

  “Don’t waste it.”

  ***

  “I used to babysit a little girl who had Down Syndrome,” Krisney said softly.

  My eyes were wide open as I replayed what Dante had said to me an hour before.

  After Dante had collected his sleeping little girl from my fiancée’s arms, he’d walked out of the door and straight to his truck without another word.

  An old company vehicle. One that I hadn’t seen in a while.

  The one and only time I’d seen him out and about after the accident that had taken his wife and kids—as well as his car—he had been on a motorcycle. He still had his wife’s car parked in his garage, but I knew he wouldn’t drive it. Not ever again.

  Hence the old company tow truck.

  He could put the little girl into a car seat in the back seat.

  “Oh yeah?” I murmured.

  “She was the sweetest, kindest, most beautiful little girl that I ever met,” she whispered into the darkness. “She gave the best hugs, and I adored her from the tips of her piggy tails to her pink little toenails.”

  “She sounds like a sweet little girl.”

  “She was,” she agreed. “But…Reed, that little girl absolutely adored everyone and everything. Unfortunately, the reverse wasn’t true for her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” she cleared her throat. “That Mary, Dante’s daughter, has a tough road ahead of her. Not everyone is as accepting as we are, and one day, Mary’s going to be the target of some hate. I just hope when that day comes, that Dante doesn’t go off on some ignorant teenager who may be acting like a jerk but isn’t really a bad person.”

  I grunted.

  “Dante…” I growled. “Well, he’s getting there.”

  “Why now?”

  “Mary.”

  She rolled over slowly until she was pressed to my side.

  My chest felt like it warmed fifteen degrees just by the simplest of touches.

  I knew she wasn’t comfortable, but I could feel her determination to stay there.

  “I…I’m…I wish I was there for you when that happened.”

  I didn’t say anything for a long moment as I tried to collect my thoughts.

  “Do you want to know my worst days?”

  She froze.

  “I want to know everything you’re willing to tell me,” she finally said.

  “The day that we lost Dante’s family and then realized that it was Amy’s fault. The day that we buried Dante’s family. The day that Amy died. The day that we buried her.” I paused. “But, those were nothing compared to the day that I told you to leave.”

  “That day, I knew I’d fucked up.” I laughed harshly. “Amy told me I was stupid. Did you know that?”

  I felt a tear hit my arm, and I knew what I told her, and the memories they brought, caused her to cry.

  “No,” she cleared her throat.

  “She did,” I said. “She told me that I was a dumb person, and that one day I was going to regret telling you to leave.”

  I laughed harshly. “What she didn’t know is that I regretted those words as I was saying them.”

  “Reed,” she breathed.

  “Used to pray for sleep, because that was the only place that my life didn’t suck. That was the only place where I got to see you.”

  She sniffled and rubbed her nose along the skin of my arm.

  “Reed,” she tried to interrupt.

  “Couldn’t fucking wait to lay my head on the pillow at night,” I continued. “I used to think about you all day long, and it felt like a freakin’ anvil was sitting on my chest. In my dreams, though, you were there. You were happy. I was happy. We got to live our lives together and live our happily ever after.”

  “Reed, we’ll have that.”

  I started to say more, but she raised her hand and put it against my mouth. “No more talking.”

  I smiled against her hand.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You bet yes, ma’am,” she countered.

  I placed a gentle kiss on her palm and then urged her to roll onto her back.

  “Go to sleep, Krisney.”

  “Bossy,” she said.

  “Determined,” I countered. “Worried. Scared. In love.”

  “You have such pretty words.”

  “They’re the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God.”

  She settled on her back, propped up partially with a pillow to keep her off the side with the incision, and then reached down for my hand.

  “This time, your dreams are going to be nothing compared to your reality.”

  I had no doubt that they would be.

  “And Reed?”

  “Yeah?” I asked, sleep starting to pull me under.

  “I don’t hate you. I never have and never will.”

  That was good, because I hated myself enough for the both of us.

  Chapter 22

  I often times try to convince myself that I actually like people. Then I go to the grocery store at five o’clock and realize that I’m fooling myself.

  -Krisney’s secret thoughts

  Krisney

  We’d both forgotten our cell phones at home.

  Last night, after all that had gone on with Dante, we completely forgot to plug them in to charge, so of course they both were dead.

  After a restless first night at home where neither of us slept well, we plugged our phones in to charge while we got dressed. But we had been in such a rush to leave that we forgot to grab them

  It wasn’t until we had arrived at the hospital that Reed had realized our mistake.

  “I have to go back and get them,” he said. “Everyone will freak if they can’t get a hold of us.”

  I agreed.

  “Okay,” I said, getting out of the car. Slowly. “I’ll start making my way up. You might catch me before I even get up there.”

  He grinned. “You’re not that slow, but I’ll try to be quick.” He looked at me sternly. “And when you get there, make sure you find a chair. Don’t stand up the entire time I’m gone.”

  I saluted him, causing his eyes to light with humor. “Be good.”

  “Don’t forget the charger. They’re probably not fully charged yet, but I’m sure they have somewhere we can plug them in here.”

  He winked and was gone, leaving me at the entrance staring at his truck driving away.

  When I arrived on the NICU floor, I wasn’t prepared for the flurry of activity in the room.

  “What’s going on?” I asked another one of the parents.

  The mom looked tired, run down and scared.

  “One of the babies stopped breathing and another followed shortly after,” she said. “When that happens, all of the parents have to leave.”

  “Whose babies?” I blurted.

  I didn’t have to guess who, though.

  I could see that all the activity was centered around the two incubators in the back right corner of the room.

  The exact same corner where Reed and I had spent nearly five hours yesterday after I’d been released from the hospital.

  Reed had turned around to go get our phones, and now I was left standing here, watching my worst nightmare playing out in front of me.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Those are my babies,” I whispered.

  The mother lo
oked sad. Horrified.

  “Oh, honey.”

  I walked up to the glass and rested my head there, staring at what was happening.

  I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.

  Turning on my heel, I rushed as fast as I could make my body go, ending up in a deserted hallway with only a door leading to the stairs at the end of it.

  I pushed through the stairwell door, climbed up a flight of steps, and tried not to cry from both the physical and emotional pain.

  “I thought you’d never come.”

  I blinked, looked up, and came face-to-face with the woman who had nearly ruined my life.

  The woman who was responsible for every awful thing that had happened to me over the last two weeks.

  “You.”

  Caria smiled.

  “Me.”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  Didn’t know what to do.

  Mainly because Caria had a fucking gun pointed at me, and I wanted to reach forward and yank her off the landing above me by her hair.

  Then my stupid mouth took off before I could get it under control.

  “You stupid, no good whore!” I screeched.

  The deep breath I’d had to take made pain in my stomach and back explode, but it didn’t stop me from saying the words.

  Mainly because Caria was a stupid whore, and she needed to hear them.

  “Touchy,” she said as she cocked the hammer and then leaned forward. “Scream like that again, though, and I’ll have to use this.”

  She waved the gun for emphasis.

  I clamped my jaw shut and tried not to think about how my legs were starting to shake.

  Not because she was scaring me—though she was—but because I still wasn’t at full strength yet.

  Which reminded me that my babies were currently fighting for their lives.

  “You know,” Caria smiled. “My badge still works. Still gets me into the hospital, and in locked places where I technically ‘shouldn’t’ be.”

  Her smile was so fucking smug that I wanted to slap it off of her face.

  “And since I worked on the baby floors, they freak out when you take kids out of the hospital.” She laughed. “But, I just took the stupid bracelet off. I don’t understand why they never thought of that. The sensors are good and all, but only if you leave them on their ankles. They’re so easy to take off that it’s almost comical, though.”

  I had no clue what she was talking about. None at all.