I nod against him.
“Which hospital, sweetheart? I need you to tell me where to take you.”
I rack my brain, trying to remember what the lady on the phone said. “CHI Medical.”
We make it to the car. Jax holds my hand while he shifts gears. It helps, but what I really need, who I really need, is Chase. I try to call him. Over and over and over.
Please, Chase. Pick up. Can’t you feel me breakin’?
No answer. Eventually, it goes straight to voicemail.
I can’t breathe.
The ride to the hospital is a blur, but we make it. Daddy’s pacing in the waiting room with a white bandage on his arm and tears on his face. I rush into his arms and the pressure in my chest starts to ease.
“Daddy, what happened?” I cry. “Are you okay? Where’s Mama? Have you talked to Eli?”
He brushes my hair with his hand, shushing me. His voice cracks as he tells me everything will be alright. He says God has a plan, and all we have to do is pray.
So that’s what we do.
We sit in small plastic chairs and we pray.
A couple hours later and my panic has calmed. Jax’s solid grip on my hand and Daddy being alive and well has helped me fight through the shock. But I’m scared. Mama is still in surgery, and nobody has told us anything.
Jax curses beside me.
“What’s wrong?”
He’s on his phone, but as soon as I ask, he puts it away. “Nothing for you to worry about, sweetheart.”
His smile irritates me. “Jax, don’t treat me with kid gloves. I could use the distraction. Tell me what you were lookin’ at.” I’m being nosy and I know it, but I don’t care. Anything to escape this purgatory.
“I was just scrolling Facebook. Dumb stuff to pass the time.” He won’t meet my eyes. The tingling at the base of my spine has me apprehensive. What else could make this day any worse?
“Jax. Please.” I put my hand out. “Just let me see.”
He purses his lips as he stares at me. Finally, he heaves a sigh and hands his phone over, his screen lit up.
When I see the picture of a smiling Lindsay next to a sleeping Chase, wearing his shirt and in his bed, my heart shatters into pieces.
When Mama dies two hours later, those pieces turn to dust.
15
Chase
Twenty Years Old
An arm on my chest is what wakes me. I run my hands down my face, groaning. I reach over to pull Goldi further into me, but instead of soft curves, I grasp sharp angles.
The fuck?
I look down and see bleached blonde hair, not the honey-blonde I was expecting. Lindsay? What the hell? Throwing her arm off me, I scoot back.
She stirs, blinking groggily. “Chase?”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I see my phone on the desk, and I jump out of bed to grab it.
My forehead wrinkles as I realize it’s turned off.
I look around, trying to get my bearings. The sun is streaming through my blinds, which means I’m officially fucked because my window faces east. That means it’s morning. I slept through Goldi’s recital.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Chase, what’s wrong?” Lindsay pushes back the covers, sitting up in my bed, stretching her arms above her head. Shock filters through me as I notice she’s wearing nothing but my shirt.
Mistaking my wide eyes for something it isn’t, she smirks. “Looks good on me, doesn’t it?” She sweeps her hands down her body.
“What the fuck, Lindsay?”
My phone vibrates in my hand as it powers on, diverting my attention.
25 Missed Calls. 10 New Voicemails. 7 Text Messages.
My stomach knots.
Lindsay stands, coming close to peer over my shoulder. “Your phone wouldn’t stop ringing yesterday afternoon, so I turned it off. Thought you could use the rest instead. I know how tired you’ve been from school and work.” She rubs my arm.
I remember her leaving yesterday afternoon. Obviously, once I fell asleep, she decided to show back up. I am seriously regretting leaving my front door unlocked.
I shrug her off, my teeth grinding. “That’s just great, Lindsay. I had an alarm set. You knew I was supposed to be going home. Do you have any idea how hard you’ve made things for me?”
She scoffs. “Please, Alina will forgive you. She always does. You obviously needed sleep.”
Her words are a punch to the gut. Self-loathing beats my insides with the fact that even she realizes how shitty I’ve been to Goldi. “Care to explain why you’re even fucking here? Or why you took it upon yourself to put on my clothes and sleep in my bed?”
“I was tired, too.” She lifts her shoulders. “I didn’t have anything to wear that was comfortable. I didn’t think you would mind.”
“Of course I fucking mind,” I snap, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I don’t have time to deal with you right now. Make yourself useful and go start some coffee.”
I look down at my phone, pulling up Goldi’s name and pressing call. I just need to explain. She’ll understand.
She has to understand.
The phone rings, but her voicemail picks up. I try Jax next. No answer.
Shit.
I open up my text messages.
Goldi: I’m sorry about earlier, It’s just hard with you being gone.
Jax: Hey, bro. Excited for you to be back! Whoop! Let’s chill tomorrow after you get your Alina time.
Goldi: Are you almost here? We need to leave soon for the rec hall.
Goldi: Chase. Answer your phone!
Goldi: I’m having Jax take me. If I wait any longer, I’ll be late.
Jax: Dude. Where the fuck are you?
Goldi: I’m done.
This is bad. This is really fucking bad.
I go to my call log next. Most of them are from Goldi. My eyebrows furrow as I realize there’s a string of them during the time of the recital. I keep scrolling.
Jax.
Jax.
Jax.
Becca.
I stop short, my thumb hovering over the screen. Why the fuck did Becca call?
I go to my voicemail and skip to the one from
