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But life didn’t work like that.
There was no ceiling on how many times life could destroy you.
“Kace would not shut up about lasagna,” I continued, ignorant to the fact that this would be the last few moments of happiness I’d have for a while. “So I made lasagna. I might’ve gone a little overboard, because I was taking into account that he’s got all those muscles to feed, and now my son has decided he’s going through a ‘growth spurt’ so he eats almost as much as Kace. Anyway, that’s my long way of saying I actually have enough for two macho men, one mini-man, three and a half women and a toddler.” I peered around. “Where’s David? There’s plenty for him too.”
“I’m going to go to the kids,” Lauren remarked, something odd about the way her voice sounded. She moved past me, but not before grabbing my hand and giving it a squeeze.
My blood went cold. This was all far too familiar. I knew what that voice was, what that squeeze meant.
I squared in on Gage. “What is going on?”
“Honey, I need you to brace yourself,” Gage instructed, his voice as gentle as I’d ever heard it.
And it scared the ever-loving fuck out of me. If I didn’t know my kids were in the backyard playing, I would’ve collapsed right there, thinking that something had happened to them.
But since they were in the backyard, and Gage had that soft look, was calling me honey, I knew there was only one person he was here to talk to me about.
“Is he alive?” I choked out. “Is Kace alive?”
“Why don’t we sit,” he invited, trying to move inside. I barred the doorway.
“No. We’re not fucking sitting. You’re telling me right now, is he alive?” My voice bordered on shrill, my patched-up heart already bracing for another break. Scars from the last time I’d gotten news like this were as fresh as if they’d been inflicted yesterday. The tissue knew. Emotional muscle memory.
Gage was silent for a beat, most likely trying to figure out what would be gained from trying to force me inside to give the news versus doing it right here. As if it made any kind of difference. As if my fucking sofa would soften any kind of blow he was about to give me. I could be wrapped in ten tons of cotton wool, and it wouldn’t make a damn difference.
“He’s alive.”
There was no relief that came from that statement. No. The way he said it was not meant to comfort me. It was a fact. One that seemed tenuous. I could feel it.
“It’s bad,” he continued. “We need to go.”
“The kids,” I choked out, thinking of the two children who’d so recently recovered from the loss of their father. Who had welcomed a new man with the same cut into their lives. Who had fallen in love with that man. A lot in love. They’d done it without fear or hesitation, because the scar on their hearts was alone. They thought their father’s death was a fluke. They had no reason to think that life would give them another wound so soon after they’d healed.
I’d done that too. I’d been foolish with my own heart. But that was fine. It was whatever. The biggest sin was being foolish with my children.
“Lauren’s got them,” Gage replied. “We’re goin’ to the hospital.”
There was an urgency in his voice, something that told me he didn’t know how much time we had. How much time Kace had.
The bottom fell out of my life then. For the second time. And I didn’t know how I was going to survive it.I didn’t speak on the way to the hospital.
I must’ve breathed, because I was still alive when we got there. But everything inside me was frozen, on pause. My mind was blank. Empty. I couldn’t think anything right now. Wouldn’t let myself think anything.
The second Gage rolled to a stop, I jumped out of the car. Cade met me at the entrance of the hospital. I still didn’t say a word. But I didn’t need to.
“Semi clipped him,” Cade explained, his voice grim. He held my eyes because that’s the kind of guy that Cade was. It was hard for him. Painful, too, because despite what first impressions might communicate, this was a man who cared about people. About his club. So this was hurting him too. A lesser man would’ve looked away.
Cade did not look away. That’s why he wore the president patch.
“Bastard was eating a fuckin’ sandwich. Fat fuck.” He shook his head. “We’re taking care of him.”
I nodded. I probably should care about the fate of the trucker who’d done nothing wrong aside from driving carelessly. But I really didn’t. In fact, in that moment, I really hoped they made him suffer.
