Page 35 of Forbidden Lyrics

Pulling my knees to my chest, I cover my mouth and rock back and forth as the severity of his words settles into my bones. Burns? From a car wreck? I can’t even imagine how terrifying that would be. To experience firsthand and to witness.

My chest tightens until I feel like I can’t breathe.

This can’t be happening.

“H-how bad?” I whisper.

“Bad enough to need surgery to remove the damaged skin.”

My lower lip quivers, but I stay quiet. This isn’t about me. I’m not the one who should need comfort right now. I need to be the strong one. The one Reese can rely on. Who Gibson can rely on. They’re his best friends. He must be going through hell right now.

“Gibson…” I bite my thumbnail, praying for strength. “I’m so sorry.”

“We don’t know the details yet,” he continues, sounding numb. Defeated. “I’m driving home from the hospital right now. We’re gonna try to take shifts for the next little while.”

His helplessness is crippling. I can hear it in his voice. And I can’t blame him. This is awful. River, Milo, Gibbs, and Jake spend almost every minute together outside of SeaBird. They’re family. Honestly, they’re stronger than family. Their bond is one of the most incredible things I’ve ever witnessed, putting my relationship with my sister to shame. Not that it’s difficult, considering our circumstances, but still. I’ve always been jealous of a bond like that. Unconditional. Stronger than steel. But there’s another side of the coin that comes with a relationship like that.

When one of them is hurting, they all are.

And right now, Gibbs is hurting. Bad.

“What can I do to help?” I ask softly.

His exhale is heavy, sounding louder than a freaking fog horn in my otherwise silent room before he admits, “I don’t know. They were throwing around terms like rehab and skin grafts, but I don’t know. I…I don’t know,” he rambles.

“It’s going to be okay,” I assure him, though I have no idea if it’s true. I don’t know enough about skin grafts or rehab or burns in general to make a promise like that, but I’d give anything to make him feel better. To make him feel safe. To put him at ease. To give him a moment of peace. Right now, all I hear is exhaustion. And frustration. And a resignation that’s heartbreaking.

Another long, slow exhale reverberates through my cell. “Yesterday was a clusterfuck, Dove. Milo found out about Reese and River, and they got into a fight. Jake found out that the girl he was in love with was sleeping with someone else. Then Reese had someone break into her room––”

“What?”

“I told you,” he murmurs, sounding drained. “It was a mess. And now, with the hospital, I…I don’t know what to do. I’m exhausted, but I don’t think I can sleep. I can’t get my brain to shut off. There’s too much chaos––”

“You should write about it. A song to express yourself. That’s what it does, doesn’t it? Calms the storm of emotions inside of you?”

Another sigh escapes him, and it almost breaks me. “I don’t know if I can even focus on that much right now, Dove.”

“Can I help?” I offer, desperate to fix something. I hate feeling helpless. Like my hands are tied. Like I’m out of control. And right now, Gibbs is spiraling, and I don’t know how to help him.

“Maybe I can come over. And…I don’t know?” I ramble. “Do something?”

My face pinches with regret as his silence greets me through my cell. No Great idea, Dove, or That’s a brilliant idea, Dove.

Only…silence.

I screwed up. I shouldn’t have offered to come over, and I definitely shouldn’t have brought up music when I know how touchy he is about it.

What was I thinking?

This was a terrible idea.

Biting my lip, I rush out, “I don’t have to––”

“Okay.” His voice is quiet. Resigned.

“Wait.” Convinced I’ve heard him wrong, I pull my phone away from my ear and look at the screen before clarifying, “You want me to come?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out. It isn’t exactly convincing.

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