“Dear God.” Michael muffled the phone and muttered something unintelligible to Marilyn. “We’re on our way.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, struggling to breathe above the panic running riot inside me.
“We’ll understand more when we get there. Benji is tough, and his injuries might not be serious,” Michael assured me, but it did nothing to calm my nerves.
I hung up the phone and handed it to Layne.
“I have questions,” he said, taking it from me and setting it in his seat between his legs.
“No.” I turned to stare out the window. I didn’t care if he had saved Benji and me or not—he didn’t deserve any answers. Facing him again, I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “What? What are you doing here?” I snapped. “Does the universe hate me so much that it sent you to torment me again?”
A heavy silence hung in the air. “It’s a long story.” He spun a silver ring on his middle finger as he took a deep breath and focused his attention on the road.
Maybe it was a long story, but my stomach stirred with something I hadn’t experienced toward him before: compassion. Layne sounded … broken. Defeated. With a little work, I finally convinced myself that my moment of sympathy toward him was due to the highly emotional evening I was having. Nothing more, nothing less. And I needed answers. I wanted to know why he was there and why he’d treated me like crap in high school.
Most importantly, I wanted to know why I should trust him. The only reason my brain could grasp was that Layne owed Benji and me nothing, yet he’d stepped in to defend us, to save us. That said something. I just wasn’t sure what yet.
“We’re almost there,” he said as he guided the car up a steep hill to the emergency entrance.
Layne parked, and I hopped out and bolted toward the sliding glass doors before he turned the engine off.
Hurrying to the front desk, I glanced around for Benji’s parents, but I didn’t see them yet. “Benji Parker. He was just brought here by ambulance.”
“Hi, hon. Are you a relative?” a middle-aged nurse asked.
“I’m his sister. I was with him when we were attacked.” Sometimes I was amazed at how quickly I could lie, but I knew they wouldn’t share anything if we weren’t related. My fingers drummed nervously on the desk while I waited for her to provide an update.
“He arrived about twenty minutes ago and was rushed into surgery.” Her large doe eyes filled with compassion. “I’ll see what I can do about an update for you soon, but it might be a while.”
My shoulders sagged. That wasn’t good, but I had no idea how bad it really was. Until we had additional information, my mind was left to its own devices, which meant it would taunt me with the worst possible scenarios. I turned around slowly, made my way to the waiting room, and sank into a blue chair as far away from the other three people in the room as possible. I wouldn’t call it a love seat necessarily, but two people could sit in it together. Surprisingly, the ER wasn’t too busy, which was fine with me. The fewer shrieking little kids or crying adults I had to deal with, the better.
Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with exhaustion, and my entire body ached from defending myself. I closed my eyes briefly as the events of the evening rushed over me like a tidal wave. The seat next to me gave way, and I peered through one eye to see who had sat down.
“You’re still here?” I asked, aggravated. “Why?”
Layne combed his fingers through his hair and pinned me with an intense gaze. “What did they say about Benji?”
“He’s in surgery. I don’t know anything else.” I leaned back in my chair and willed Layne Garrison to disappear.
“I’m sorry,” Layne said in a low tone. His jaw muscles clenched for a moment before he spoke again. “I’m sorry for how I treated you in high school, I’m sorry I didn’t reach you sooner tonight, and I’m sorry about Benji. I wish I could have done more.” His eyes met mine then drifted to the floor.
Who is this guy in front of me? There was no way of knowing if he’d changed for real or if he was blowing sunshine up my ass. Can someone like him even change? I shook my head and clung to my anger, refusing to consider the possibility that he was different. He didn’t deserve a second chance.
“Tensley?” Marilyn hurried toward me, her heels clicking on the tile floor. Her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. Typically, there wasn’t a hair out of place on her head and she was impeccably dressed, but not tonight. She’d haphazardly put herself together after hearing the news about her son. She’d pulled her shoulder-length dark hair into a messy bun, and her face was free of makeup. But what killed me the most was the pain etched into her beautiful features. I silently cursed the gods for allowing the Parker family to be hurt like this.
I stood and allowed Marilyn to pull me in for a big hug. Benji's parents had treated me as their own, and I couldn’t ask for better.
Shit, in all the excitement, I’d forgotten to call Avery. I would have to borrow Marilyn’s phone. The less conversation I had with Layne, the better.
“Michael,” I said, pushing up on my tiptoes and embracing Benji’s dad. Dark circles shadowed his weary eyes, but he appeared strong. I knew him well enough to know that he would want to be Marilyn’s rock and not allow his emotions to show, at least not yet. No loving father could keep his feelings tucked away for long.
He hugged me, then held me at arm’s length and assessed me. It hadn’t occurred to me that I probably looked like a complete mess.
“Are you hurt?” Marilyn asked, concern in her expression as she gave me the once-over.
“I’m shaken and bruised, but that’s all. Some Advil would be awesome, though.” I didn’t feel the need to see a doctor, but I’d taken some hits on the asphalt, and it wouldn’t surprise me to find bruises on my back and legs. I self-consciously rubbed my cut-and-scratched hands.
Layne stood next to me and extended his hand to Benji’s parents. “I’m Layne. I showed up on the scene and did what I could to help tonight. Hopefully it was enough.”
Marilyn flung her arms around his neck and broke down sobbing on his shoulder. Layne did his best to comfort her, but I didn’t miss the awkwardness of the situation. Marilyn finally backed away and rummaged around in her purse for a tissue.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her eyes swollen. “The nurse at the desk said Benji was in surgery.”
Layne and I sat back down while Michael and Marilyn settled into seats across from us.
“How do you know Benji?” Michael asked Layne.
“I don’t, actually.” Layne rubbed his chin, and I wondered if he was trying to select his next words carefully. “I’m friends with Tensley.”
I mentally kicked him in the shin. Hard. Friends? Not ever. But I knew my manners, and there was no way I was going to call him out while we waited to see how bad off Benji was. At least he got my name right.
“Marilyn, can I borrow your phone?” I asked. “I need to call Avery. Mine was broken during the … the attack.”
Once again, Marilyn performed a deep dive into her purse. “Of course, hon.” She gave me her iPhone and held her tissue tightly in her trembling hand.