Page 21 of Lighting the Lamp
I blink, startled. The edge of a laugh escapes before I can catch it, more breath than sound, but real. “Only if you want your mom to track you down and drag you back by the ear.”
He groans, dragging both hands down his face now. “God. Momma. I have to call her.” His whole body deflates with the weight of it, like the very idea has aged him ten years in three seconds.
“Yeah. I do not envy you.”
“If he did, it’s the nicest thing he’s ever done for me.” I shrug, trying to keep it light. That statement earns me a soft huff, more breath than humor, but it dies fast.
“Cooper said he’d take care of it, but I don’t know if he actually did.”
His gaze flicks toward the table where his phone sits, screen dark. The silence stretches again, longer this time. But I don’t say anything; I just wait and watch the way his throat bobs, the way his jaw clenches like he’s holding something in his mouth he can’t quite spit out.
Then his voice breaks the quiet, rough and so small I almost miss it. “I don’t know if I’m okay.”
I look at him, shoulders slumped again and his fingers twitching where they rest on the blanket. His eyes fill with moisture, rimmed in red, like he’s been holding back more tears than he’ll admit. Beneath it all, I see deep and gnawing fear, like he’s staring into a future he doesn’t recognize. I reach across and squeeze his hand gently.
“That’s okay. You don’t have to be.”
He blinks once, slowly, like he’s trying to believe me. I grab his phone from the table and place it gently in his hand. He takes it without a word, but when our fingers brush, I feel aslight tremble in his hands, but I don’t draw attention to it. I grin and stand, his eyes lifting to mine, and there’s something in them I’ve never seen from him before: fear. Not the quick, game-time kind of frustration, but the wide-eyed, soul-deep fear that comes when everything you’ve built your life around is cracking beneath your feet and you’re not sure what’s left when the dust settles.
“I’ll give you a minute.” I flash him another reassuring smile before pushing to my feet.
His eyes say thank you but also beg me not to go too far. I squeeze his shoulder once as he leans back, phone clutched like a buoy, the other arm thrown over his eyes like he’s bracing himself for impact.
I turn, not bothering to look back, and open the door to leave, but I don’t close it all the way. I leave it cracked, with just enough space so he knows that I’m still here. Outside in the hallway, it feels colder, like everything is so much louder after my and Beau’s hushed conversations in the hospital room. The overhead lights hum as I hear the soft sound of a nurse laughing down the corridor. I exhale for what feels like the first time in hours, lungs raw with the effort, before I round the corner and freeze.
“He hasn’t even had the full cardiac eval yet. You really think pulling him now makes sense?” Cooper’s voice, low and barely under control, slices through the hallway like a blade.
“It’s not just his vitals, Coop. It’s the silence. The collapse. His last name,” Parker answers a beat later, his tone stripped of its usual ease. “You think Coach is gonna roll the dice again after Cole?”
The muscle in Cooper’s cheek twitches as he grinds his jaw. His fists are clenched so tightly at his sides, his entire body looks like it is vibrating. He isn’t angry, at least I don’t think he is. It’s harder to tell with the other Hendrix boys than with Beau. Maybe because I don’t want them as close, but Cooper has feltthe sting of what was going on with Cole more than anyone. No matter how much we, including Cole, tell him there was nothing he could do to stop what happened, he still wants to shoulder the blame. It’s as if the sheer weight of everything he’s trying desperately not to feel is weighing down on him.
“He’s not Cole.” His words sound harsh, as if they clawed their way out of his mouth, but he doesn’t believe them.
We both know that although Cole and Beau are not the same person and the circumstances are completely different, both of them had to hit rock bottom to understand that they needed to take time to heal their bodies and their souls. Cole has had the courage to take a step back and do just that, but with Beau, there wasn’t a choice. He’s being forced to make changes and admit things to himself before he is ready. That in itself has the potential to end in disaster.
“No, he’s not. But he’s drowning, Coop. If we don’t make space for him to come up for air…” Parker shakes his head, swallowing hard. “He’s gonna stop trying.”
I stop just short of them, heart kicking up like it’s trying to escape my chest because I know Parker is right. I just saw what it looks like when Beau stops trying. The spark in his eyes dims, and he literally loses his will to fight for himself. But I can’t let that happen. Not now. Not ever. If Beau isn’t able to fight, to believe that he can get through whatever this is, then I’ll do it for him.
I step forward, the soles of my shoes squeaking softly against the tile, but loud enough to draw Cooper’s gaze. His brows knit together the moment he sees me, like he’s bracing for another blow.
“Did you call your mom?” My voice comes out hoarse, thin from holding back all my emotions. The last thing anyone needs right now is for me to lose my shit. I need to keep it togetherfor Cooper and Beau. I can fall apart later. Right now, my two pseudo-brothers need me to be their anchor.
“Yeah, and Ramona, too.” He nods, each movement deliberate, like anything more might break him.
My breath hitches in my chest at the mention of my best friend. What I wouldn’t give for one of her famous hugs right now. She and Beau have always been the ones to help me keep it together. To help me weather the storm when things in the outside world were too chaotic to handle, but now, Beau needs an anchor, and I have a feeling that Cooper needs Ramona more now than I ever could. For the first time that I can remember, I don’t have the two of them to fall back on, and that fucking terrifies me.
“How is she?”
“She’s probably losing her mind with worry, but she’s holding it together for me and Darius.”
Not only is Ramona my sister from another mister, but she’s Darius’s guardian. She has been ever since a car crash killed her sister when he was five years old. She’s strong and stubborn as hell, but I know how deeply she feels things. Especially when it comes to the people she loves. There is no way she isn’t feeling this with her entire being. Beau isn’t just Cooper’s brother to her. He’s just as much a part of her family as Darius and I are.
“What did she end up telling Darius?”
Cooper glances away, down the hall, like he can dodge the question if he doesn’t meet my eyes. “Nothing.”
“You didn’t tell Darius anything?” I ask, voice sharp, but I can’t help it.
