I held out the folder with all of Willa’s information, and he snatched it from me. Without another word, he stormed out. That’s all I could take before I was crying. I dragged in a few breaths, trying to settle myself down. Knowing Kira was taking care of Willa and would get her settled down for bed at least took pressure off, and I was able to just sit there and try to get calm.
27 Darren
I never realized just how exhausting anger and stress could be. I guess that was one of the benefits of not having as impulsive and fiery a personality as my brothers did. They were known to occasionally explode, some more than others, and seemed to experience more stress and anxiety than I did. At least, that’s what I thought. Then this happened to me, and I felt the full force of going through something so intense. After I left Kelly’s house, I was so full of adrenaline and rage it was like I could have done an Ironman competition and then built a house with my own bare hands. But that didn’t last for long. I couldn’t sleep at all the night after I got the life-changing news and was up bright and early the next morning to go get my blood drawn.
Getting regular blood draws was something I was very used to. Ever since I started racing, I submitted to getting my blood drawn on a fairly frequent schedule. This was for a few reasons. Ever since we were young, Dad had insisted all four of the brothers be responsible and accountable for their own health and well-being. He made it extremely clear he wouldn’t tolerate any sort of controlled substance, and that became even more pressing when I started racing. It had been a tradition of the company since well before I even got on the back of a motorcycle to check in with the racers randomly to screen for drugs or anything else that he might not approve of.
Even though I’d never used any type of drug and would never consider taking a performance-enhancing substance of any kind, out of respect for my father and for tradition, I kept up with the checks. Getting my blood drawn regularly was about more than just ensuring I had a clean bill of health every time I got on my bike to race. It was also about making sure I was ready to face whatever might happen in that race. As evidenced by the catastrophe with Greg at the last race, these events could be extremely dangerous. I was very fortunate to have never been involved in something truly dangerous or have my life at risk. But others had.
Some nights were still scarred by nightmares that came from the memories of wrecks I’d witnessed. Very early in my career, I watched a man go down and hit the track with a force that destroyed several bones and nearly caused him to bleed out. He was mere moments from death and was only saved by transfusions. When I met Colby and found out his sister was a phlebotomist, it inspired me to start collecting blood so it would be available if there was ever an emergency like that. Having a stash of my own blood ready meant if there was ever a time when I needed a transfusion because of an accident, the hospital wouldn’t have to try to find a match, and I wouldn’t deplete the stores of blood for others who might need it.
There was a certain degree of the macabre in the plan, but it made me feel more confident, so I did it as frequently as I could. I did it so often it usually didn’t bother me at all but asking for the extra blood and explaining the situation to her was upsetting all over again. She was understanding and supportive, even saying her lab could process the test for me. That made me feel better, knowing at least somebody I was familiar with was handling this critically important moment of my life. But after everything was done and submitted, all the adrenaline left me, and I was completely exhausted.
Feeling drained and empty, I didn’t leave my couch for all of Saturday afternoon or night and stayed there through Sunday morning. I fully intended on staying longer, but I wasn’t given the choice. My front door burst open and Quentin, Nick, and Colby stormed in like they were sent on a mission. Each one carried a bag under one arm, and I immediately wondered which one of them my mother talked to first.
“You look like a hot mess,” Colby said.
Quentin made a snorting noise.
“You’re a lot nicer than me. I was going to say you look like something chewed you up, spit you out, then turned you into cud,” he said.
“Gee thanks,” I muttered, dragging myself up so I was at least sitting up on the couch rather than lying on it to look up at them.
“What the hell did you do to yourself?” Nick asked.
“Liquor,” I answered.
As soon as I put the materials into the lab, I drove straight to the liquor store and stocked up. It felt like the kind of weekend where I was going to need it to get through. It was going to be a couple days before the results came through, and I wanted to be lucid and thinking about it as little as humanly possible. The ragged appearance all came from the night before, though. I hadn’t yet started drinking for the morning. But at least it seemed there was no judgment coming from my friend and brothers as Colby reached into the bag he held and handed me a bottle of green juice.
“This will take the edge off the hangover,” he said. “Do you have any good greasy food in your kitchen?”
“No,” I said. “I’ll have to order something.”
“That
