Page 52 of The Tryst

My phone rings but I ignore it. I’ve got the steering wheel gripped so tightly for control that I can’t even think to try to answer.

It seems to take forever but then the emergency room looms before me. I park in a loading zone, not caring if I get ticketedor towed, and rush inside where a harried receptionist greets me. “My brother… Wade Blackburn… he was just brought in by ambulance.”

The nurse nods, her expression sympathetic. “They’re working on him now. Have a seat, and someone will be out to speak with you soon.”

Looking around, I see the lobby is half full. I collapse into the nearest chair, my body shaking uncontrollably. I can’t lose him. Not like this. The reality of the situation crashes down on me, and all I can do is pray that Wade will survive, and somehow, we’ll find a way to mend what’s been broken.

I stare at the floor, willing it to swallow me whole and make this go away. I ignore the bustle of activity around me but every time the double doors open past the reception desk, my head pops up, wondering if I’ll be getting good or bad news.

“Trey!” I hear my name and look up to see my parents and Ethan.

I stand, trying to say something but nothing comes out. My dad puts a reassuring arm around my shoulders, leads me back to the chair. They sit around me. “What happened? The woman who called Ethan said it was a bad car accident.”

I nod, my throat dry. “Looks like it was a head-on collision. The other driver is dead. Wade…” The words choke off as tears spring to my eyes. “It’s bad. I heard them say maybe a contusion to his heart. He was unconscious. They had to cut him out with the Jaws of Life.”

My mother’s hand slaps across her mouth and a squeak of dismay seeps through. Tears fill her eyes and Ethan wraps her up in a hug while my dad keeps a strong arm around my shoulders.

“It’s my fault,” I whisper and they all turn to look at me. “We got into an argument. He left the house angry. I went after him… and… I came upon the wreck.” My eyes beseech my mom’s forsome understanding. “One of the last things he said to me… was that he hated me.”

My dad’s fingers dig into my shoulder, way past the point of being reassuring and bordering on painful. I know how mad he must be at me, but I bravely meet his gaze and brace for the worst.

Instead, I find sympathetic eyes. “You did nothing wrong, son. You didn’t cause that accident. And your brother did not hate you. You know that deep down, okay?”

I can’t stand to see the understanding in his eyes when I don’t deserve it. I stand up, needing air but giving the excuse, “I need to call Holland. Did someone let Kat know?”

Ethan nods. “She and Gabe are on their way. We’ve called Abby and she’s on standby.”

Nodding, I pull my phone from my pocket, intent on stepping outside to call Holland but I’m stopped dead in my tracks when the double doors open and a doctor walks through.

His eyes are tired, defeated and he looks around. “Family of Wade Blackburn?”

I’m closest to him so I step forward, but my parents and brother are right on my heels. The doctor motions toward a room that says Conference on the sign outside it. “Let’s talk in here.”

My chest squeezes painfully and I’m having a hard time sucking in air. My mom looks on the verge of collapse as my dad on one side and Ethan on the other escort her in. I follow behind, closing the door behind us.

There’s a desk against the wall with an office chair, along with two couches perpendicular on adjoining walls. Without the doctor asking us to, we all take seats. He stands before us, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m Dr. Barrymore, a trauma surgeon. I evaluated Wade when he came in and he was unfortunately in full cardiac arrest. We attempted for over twenty minutes toresuscitate him, but I’m sorry to say… we weren’t successful. He’s unfortunately passed.”

I don’t remember much after that other than a low, keening wail that my mother lets out. It hurts my ears, like nails on a chalkboard, and it seems to go on forever and ever. I slump back onto the couch, rub at my watery eyes.

This can’t be happening.

This can’t be fucking happening.

Wade is dead and it’s my fault.

CHAPTER 18

Holland

Itake theturn into the Blackburn driveway too fast, the tail end of my car skidding slightly. The call I’d received from Ethan sent me into a panic. I’d been in bed, reading a book and feeling for the first time in a very long time that my life had purpose and direction.

Ethan’s number wasn’t in my phone. He’d been so much older than us growing up and there was always a divide. There was never any reason to have his number when I got my first phone or when I left Kentucky. Certainly, there’d been no reason since, so I almost didn’t answer the unrecognized number.

But there was something about receiving a call at almost midnight that had my hair standing on end. It was with dread that I answered. “Hello?”

“Holland… it’s Ethan. Something bad has happened.”

His voice was raw and warbled with emotion. I’m not sure everything he said, but I got the gist.

---