Page 102 of Long Story Short

“Pop’s in the hospital,” I manage to get out before my voice breaks. “He collapsed. The paramedics got him stable—whatever that means—but they don’t know what’s wrong yet.”

Saying it out loud makes it too real.

“I should’ve answered,” I whisper, the guilt of missing his calls hitting me all at once. “I had my phone in my bag. We were out and having fun, and I didn’t even hear it. He was calling me—he needed me—and I⁠—”

“Hey,” Tyson interrupts gently. He reaches his hand up to cup my face, forcing me to look at him. “You didn’t know. This isn’t on you.” His words are firm but soft at the same time.

My breathing is uneven and shallow, like I can’t get enough air into my lungs.

“What if something’s really wrong?” I ask, barely holding it together.

His thumb brushes over my cheek, swiping away a tear I didn’t even realize had fallen. “Then we’ll handle it,” he begins, sounding confident and sure. “Together.”

Together.

The word settles in me just enough to keep me from completely unraveling. He’s here with me. I’m not completely alone in handling this.

I give him a nod despite the tightness in my chest.

Tyson pulls me to him and wraps me in an embrace. I didn’t realize how badly I needed a hug from him until I feel his arms around me. I don’t know how long we stand like that, but it’s long enough for my breathing to even out slightly. I focus on the sound of his heartbeat against my ear as I take deep breaths.

Eventually, Tyson presses a kiss to my forehead before pulling away.

He grabs his phone from his pocket and starts to type something on it. He shifts into action in a way I can’t right now.

I can’t move from my spot in the kitchen.

Not as he asks me what he needs to pack for me.

Not when he asks what Mouse needs to travel.

Not when he tells me he’s found a jet ready at the airport now.

I don’t move until he comes to a stop in front of me. “Ready to head to the airport when you are,” he tells me, keeping his tone gentle.

I nod, grabbing my purse off the counter with shaking hands as my mind races ahead of me.

Pop.

Collapsed.

Hospital.

I close my eyes for a moment. Please let him be okay. He’s the only family I have left.

“Josie,” Tyson says as we start to leave.

I turn to face him, trying to ignore the dread that courses through my veins.

He lifts the hand that isn’t around Mouse’s cat carrier and runs his fingers along my cheek before it drops back to his side. “I’ve got you. I’m here.”

Something inside me gives way at his words. They hit home because I believe him.

I reach for his hand without even thinking, gripping it tightly as he leads me out of the house.

I don’t let go. Not in the car. Not on the plane. I don’t think I could let go of his hand if I tried, because right now, he’s the only thing keeping me from falling apart.

FORTY-SEVEN