Page 98 of While You're There
The weather had been so nice all week that Jake had taken the hard top off the Jeep. The humid summer air assaulted them from all sides as he drove through the abandoned streets of Hampton. Her hair whipped around her face, the seatbelt dug into her tender abdomen. She didn’t feel any of it, though. The only sensation that registered was the ache to be by Rhett’s side.
“Baby.” Jake had to yell to be heard over the wind. A pained look distorted his features. “There’s no other quick way to get to the highway… Close your eyes now if you don’t want to see it.”
It defied human nature to not gawk at a car crash. There was no way she couldn’t look. The flashing yellow light on top of the tow truck was her only indication they were close as they approached the train bridge that separated the more residential neighborhoods from downtown Hampton.
A small black car was suspended at an angle, strung up so it could be towed away from the scene. The left side was a crumbled, indented mess. The driver’s window was shattered. The wheel well was turned in on itself. The car was destroyed, surrounded by bits of glass and metal scattered on the road like confetti.
She stared unblinking, desperate to memorize every inch of damage. But she wasn’t even seeing the car as they passed. She was seeing the moment of impact. She was seeing Rhett being pulled from the vehicle.
“Tori!” Jake barked, pulling her out of her own head and forcing her to finally look away. It wasn’t until she heard him scream her name that she realized she was sobbing. Her nails dug into the seatbelt she was trying so damn hard to hold away from her body. Her breathing was heavy against the unwavering torrent of wind whipping through the car.
“Tori,” Jake repeated, calmer this time. “He’s not in there. He’s safe. He’s at the hospital. We’re going to him now.”
She knew that. Rhett was okay. Or he would be okay. That wasn’t even the dominant thought in her mind anymore. Not after seeing the car. Not after seeing the point of impact.
She turned to assess Jake’s profile. She saw the truth in his hardened expression before she even asked the question.
“Where’s the other car, Jake?”
A stillness filled the space between them. They were existing on a tightrope. She closed her eyes and savored the silence that she knew wouldn’t keep. Once Jake answered her question, everything she thought she knew would unravel. There’d be no more denying what she so desperately didn’t want to be true.
“There was no other car involved,” he admitted.
She dragged in a breath before a flurry of accusations tumbled out.
“He went to a bar tonight. He was out drinking while I was waiting for him to come home to me. He got drunk the night before our egg retrieval. He drove drunk! He totaled your car!”
“We don’t know any of the details for sure yet,” Jake defended.
“But you know. Or you at least suspect.”
“I’ve got texts out to my guys, yeah,” he confessed. “Dempsey and Cole worked at The Oak tonight. I made a big dramatic scene telling them not to call me unless the place was on fire…”
She heard the self-blame in his words. His tone mirrored exactly how she felt. But she couldn’t allow him to go there. There was only one person involved in the crash; there was only one person who made the series of decisions that led to a car crash tonight.
“You can’t blame yourself for this, Jake. I don’t think any of us realized how determined he was to self-destruct. Not even him.”
Tears filled her eyes as she thought about the slow but deliberate downward spiral Rhett had been riding for weeks. She rested her head against the frame of the Jeep, crying silent tears for her Golden Boy who was so out of reach. This wasn’t her fault. This wasn’t Jake’s fault. But she couldn’t help but wonder what else she could have done to keep him from getting to this point.
She didn’t know. But she should have known.
“We’re looking for Everhett Wheeler,” Jake informed the man sitting behind the check-in station of the emergency room. “He was brought in by ambulance around two a.m. They thought he was going to need surgery.”
The man nodded as he stared at a computer screen. “Umm… Wheeler. There he is. It looks like he was admitted to the third floor,” he informed them. “But it’s family only, I’m afraid.”
“I’m his wife,” Tori said without missing a beat. She held up her left hand for emphasis, as if her wedding band could magically grant her access to his room.
“And I’m his brother,” Jake added, grasping Tori’s right hand and giving it a squeeze.
“Take that elevator to the third floor, then turn left. He’s in room 305.”
An involuntary sob escaped her when they entered the room. She hadn’t been prepared for him to look so broken. Jake had to steady her shoulders and walk behind her just to get her past the bed.
Rhett’s left arm was braced against his body in a sling. His right wrist was wrapped, and he had stitches running from just above his ear lobe all the way into his hairline. There were other marks on his body, his face marred with scrapes and blossoming bruises.
She approached the bed, taking in the monitors and screens that surrounded him. An IV was stuck in his arm, with EKG wires laced under his hospital gown. Her fingers itched to pull back the sheet and analyze every shattered piece of his broken body, but she knew it was futile without having anyone in the room to answer her questions.
“If he just got out of surgery, he might be out of it for a while.” Jake placed an arm across her shoulders. “Come on,” he urged, titling his head toward the small plastic couch in the corner. “You should try to rest while he’s asleep.”
