“You can ride with us. Anyone else will have to follow,” the paramedic with red hair and freckles says. He doesn’t seem to be a day over eighteen. As long as he knows how to do his job, we won’t have any problems.
“We will all follow. Go,” Jaxon says. “We’ll see you at the hospital.”
“Finley.” I reach for her, and she immediately lays her hand in mine. I can’t do this without her. She’s become my rock in a very short amount of time. I had no idea how I was aimlessly floating in the sea before, but I’ve wrecked, and Finley is the reason.
She’s wrecked me into pieces only to put me back together again, situating the fragments of who I am in the correct place.
“Only family, sir,” the paramedic says, his eyes drifting toward Finley. I don’t like how he looks at her. He likes what he sees.
“Yeah? She’s my fucking wife,” I push his chest. “Keep your eyes to your fucking self and take my son to the damn doctor.”
His large Adam’s apple bobs, and him and his partner hurry out the door with Dillon. I wrap my arm around Finley as I follow them to the ambulance. The rig’s lights are still swirling red, and there is a light mist of rain in the air with a hint of sea salt. The waves crash against the cliffside. The rolling water sounds like static, a broken signal, and that’s exactly how I feel right now. I’m not able to portray how I feel; I’m too lost in the white noise.
We climb in the ambulance, and I settle Finley next to me, holding her close as I watch the paramedics hook Dillon up to a bunch of machines.
“He has a blown left pupil. Call it in, Bridges,” the redheaded paramedic barks.
“What’s that mean? What’s that fucking mean?”
“It means he has swelling in his brain. I can’t do anything about that. We have to wait until we get to the hospital and wait for Neurosurgery.”
“Oh my god,” Finley gasps.
I tuck her head under my chin and hold onto her tight. She has no idea how much I need her right now. At first, I called her my wife so she could be with me. The thought of being alone in this ambulance was terrifying, but I like the idea of her being tied to me. I know it’s too soon, but she’s my safe place in this fucking nightmare I’m living. How do I let something like that go?
Something vibrates in my pocket, and it hits me that my phone is still there. I dig it out and see it’s a text from Maggie.
Maggie: I called Portland. They are having Dillon’s Oncologist fly into Trinidad now. We don’t have to worry about traveling. I told them you’d donate to their hospital if the doctor came as soon as possible. Hope that’s okay.
“Oh, wow,” Finley reads the message over my shoulder. It doesn’t bother me. I want her to see who I’m talking to. I’m not hiding anything.
Me: I’ll write them a check for a million damn dollars. I’ll buy them whatever they want. I just want Dillon to be okay.
Maggie: I know. Me too.
I tuck my phone in my pocket and hold Finley a bit tighter, then I reach for Dillon’s hand. He’s cold, clammy, and he doesn’t squeeze back. “Finley, I’m scared,” I whisper into her ear so only she can hear me. “I’m so fucking scared.”
“It’s okay to be scared. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be human. I’m scared too.”
I lean my forehead against her shoulder and do my best to control myself. This, this right here is another reason why I refused to get close to anyone again in the last eight years. I finally had nothing to lose.
And now I have Dillon and Finley.
The reasons why I have everything to lose.
Chapter Sixteen
FINLEY
Finley
If someone would have told me a month ago that I would be in the hospital with my older boyfriend waiting to see if his son was okay, I would have looked at them like they had lost their mind.
But here I am, in a cold waiting room in the hospital, waiting on Dillon to get out of surgery. Grayson is pacing back and forth down the hall, and everyone else is sitting in the uncomfortable gray chairs. Quinn and Gabriella are seated on either side of me, and Maggie is on the other side of Quinn.
The guys are across from us. Zeke is talking on the phone in his New York accent so fast, I can’t understand what he’s saying. Heaven and Owen are watching Grayson pace. Jaxon and Sebastian are talking in hushed tones.
I look over my shoulder when the hair on the back of my neck stands up. That’s only happened to me a few times in my life, and it usually means Trevor is near. That’s impossible, considering I bashed his head in. Someone is watching me, though. I feel it.
When I turn around to see who is behind me to get a better look, all I see is an older woman reading a magazine and her husband napping next to her. There’s a TV on in the background, but it’s on the news. I hate the news, so I turn around again, trying to pay attention to the conversations happening around me. I still feel a weird inkling, but there isn’t anything I can do about it right now.
Maybe I’m just hypersensitive because of the situation.
“I can’t be here. I need fresh air. I need to go. I … I don’t know how to handle this,” Grayson says abruptly, stopping in the middle of the walkway.
Jaxon stands to stop him, but Grayson is already marching out the door.
“I got it,” I say, and Quinn reassuringly squeezes my hand before I go.
Jaxon takes my empty seat, and I run out of the automatic doors, hoping Grayson didn’t go far. The sun is just starting to peek into the sky, and the stars are slowly fading. I look left and then right and see Grayson sitting on a bench.
A bench surrounded by dandelions.
They are just weeds, but there is a small part of me wondering if maybe it’s my dad. I doubt it.
Those silly wishes again.
Grayson’s hands are folded together to make one large fist, and his chin is resting on it. He’s staring at the sidewalk beneath him, unblinking, completely lost in thought. I take a seat next to him and pull my legs to my chest.
For such a big man, he feels so deeply, which is something so unexpected when someone looks at him. This is a very emotional time, but in general, even while we have sex, he is gentler than I ever thought he could be.
It’s another reason why I love him.
He’s gentle through the rugged mask he wears.
I don’t say anything to him. I want him to know I’m here. I hope my presence is enough because I know words will never be able to make him feel better. Only Dillon can make that happen.
“What the hell do I do?” he asks me in a croak. “I have no idea how to be a dad, and I barely know that kid in there, Finley. But the thought of not having him?” He rubs his chest where his heart lies underneath. “God, it kills me. It isn’t fair that I had to spend eight years away from him, not knowing he existed, and now I might not even get a week. I know it’s a cynical thing to say, but I swear, sometimes all I feel like life has done is fuck me over. I know, I have him, and that’s great. But how long? What, does life just get to say, ‘okay, you had him for a week and now we’re going to take him because I want to see you suffer?’ That’s all I feel like I’ve done is suffer. I suffered because of Kendall, and now I’m suffering because of her all over again. She chose to keep him from me, and then she turned him over to foster care? Without contacting me? I hate her. I hate her so much.” He stands quick and let’s out a frustrated noise. “I hope she dies. I hope she fucking rots in the damn ground. I’ll be the one to do it too. She was on my list before, but now that I have Dillon, I’m going to make sure she’s buried so deep she feels the flames of hell burning her fucking back.”