Page 97 of Avenged

“She’s going to be okay, Daw.” She had to be, not only for my brother’s sake, but for Jersey’s. If she lost her sister to another car accident, I didn’t think she’d recover from it. Ever. She’d never forgive Dawson. Or me. We certainly wouldn’t deserve a second chance from her.

I jumped into the pickup and tore out of the driveway, heading south to the address Violet had given me two days before when she’d come to pack up their things. I knew then, and now, that she’d given it to me, hoping I’d make things right with Jersey. At the time, I hadn’t seen how it was possible.

I waited to call until I was close. I didn’t want her to get in the car and drive while she was upset. I didn’t want her to crash her fucking car on the way to the hospital.

I had way more questions than answers, and I knew she would, too. Why the hell was Violet with Dawson at two in the morning? He’d promised me he understood the age issue. I’d admired his strength in staying away, but nothing good happened at two in the morning. Nothing. Fuck.

I hit the dial button on the steering wheel, telling my phone to call Jersey.

It took her longer than I expected to answer. Maybe it was because it was my name she saw on the display. Maybe she just didn’t care to ever hear from me again.

“Truck?” My heart leapt at her voice and the nickname. I had hope if she was still calling me by it instead of going back to the Travis she’d called me for so long. But after tonight, would she ever want to see my brother or me again?

“I’m almost to you?”

“I’m not?”

“It’s Vi.”

Silence.

“What?” she breathed out in that barely-there voice of hers.

“There’s been an accident. I’m almost to you.”

“There’s some mistake. She’s asleep in the room next door.” I could hear the rustle of sheets as she got up, her breathing increasing as I could envision her going to the bedroom next to hers and seeing an empty bed. More silence.

“Jersey?”

“Where is she?” The pain in her voice stabbed me in the gut even more than my brother’s tortured tone. She didn’t deserve this.

“She’s at the hospital. I’m pulling in the driveway right now.”

The long, lined driveway twisted down to a mansion overlooking the sea. The kind of mansion you expected to have security gates and armed guards, but for some reason, Jada’s family felt safe there.

“Oh my God,” she whispered through the phone.

I slammed the pickup into park and ran to the door. I pounded my fist against it.

“Jersey!”

It took several minutes before Jada answered the door in a nightgown so small it should have been illegal.

“Jersey!” I shouted again, and she came running, shoes and phone in hand, blonde hair flying, and her face paler than I’d ever seen it. Paler than the day I’d picked her up and taken her to the ER myself.

I wrapped her in my arms, and she let me for all of ten seconds before she was pounding me against the chest. “What happened? How is she?”

I grabbed her hand and hauled her to the door. “Dawson said she was awake. That’s all I know.”

Jada was looking at us with blurry, tired eyes. “Wait? What? What’s happened?”

“Dawson and Vi are at the hospital; there’s been an accident,” I told her, but I was already out the door.

“I’m coming!” she said. I turned and looked her over.

“I think you should get dressed, and we’re not waiting. You can meet us there.”

Jersey was already in the passenger seat, and I peeled out of the beautifully paved driveway, leaving marks and not caring. Jersey was dialing Vi’s phone, chanting, “Please pick up, please pick up.”

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