Page 95 of The Fall

He stood up with us still connected and his pants at his ankles, then awkwardly carried us up the stairs. I heard my phone vibrate in my purse and made him stop.

“Come on, it’s Christmas Eve,” he started to fuss, but I silenced him.

“Beatrice,” I reminded him. He quickly conceded but refused to take himself out of me. I laughed as he made his way back down the steps, tightening his hold on me as he grabbed my purse and then made his way back up the stairs. I was laughing hysterically as he mummied his way to his room, victory in his face when we landed on the bed, and he thrust deep inside me. I relished in the feel of him as I heard my phone again.

I lifted it from my purse to glance at it as he cupped my breast and raised his eyebrow. I shook my head to discourage him. He reluctantly pulled out of me, and I sat up quickly, noticing the number of missed calls.

“Oh God, I have ten missed calls from my mom!” I pressed redial and held my breath. My dad was all I could think of.

Please, God, don’t let anything be wrong with my dad.

“Dallas,” my mom sobbed into the phone.

“Mom,” I said, terrified, as Dean leaned in and rubbed his hand down my back, straining to hear.

“Dallas, I’m at the hospital. You need to come right now.”

“Mom, what is it?”

“It’s Grant. Dallas, he’s been in a terrible accident.” Dread coursed through me, and though I knew the answer to the question, I had to ask. Before I could get the words out, she answered me.

“He’s gone.”

Dallas

Now

I don’t remember the trip to the hospital aside from the fact that Dean murmured words of comfort I wasn’t catching and never let go of my hand. I wanted to tell him that I was not the one who deserved consoling. I knew the moment my mom told me Grant was gone that I had also just lost a large part of my sister. I held Dean’s hand tightly to me like a lifeline.

When we walked into the hospital lobby, my dad greeted us, hugging us tightly. He didn’t bother to hide the tears he was shedding. I saw my mom behind him, pulled from my dad’s embrace, and ran to her.

“She’s with him. She’s refusing to leave.” She walked quickly to a room, and I followed through the open door without hesitation. Rose was sitting calmly in the corner of an empty room, her hands folded in her lap. I quickly walked over, kneeling in front of her. As I feared, the look in her eyes was distant. My little sister, usually so full of life, looked so small.

“They just took him away,” she said absently. “He was so beautiful. I’ve never seen a man so beautiful…have you?”

I shook my head and waited. I had no idea what to say. I let my tears fall and waited for words that never came. She just fixated on the wall behind me. My mom made her presence known by placing her hand on my shoulder, and I gripped it.

“Rose, baby, let’s go home,” she urged.

“But he’s here,” she said adamantly. “I don’t want to leave without him.”

Neither of us said a word as we waited on her. I prayed for the right words, all of them jumbling together in my mind and none of them being the right ones. I watched a wave of calm pass over her and knew it was false. I was just about to speak up when she spoke before me.

“Okay,” she said quickly, standing and taking my mom and me both by surprise. “Let’s go.”

We quickly scrambled to her side, but she ripped her arms away. “I can walk!” I cried harder as she moved in front of us, walking past my dad’s outstretched arms in the waiting room. When she got to the sliding doors, she stopped suddenly. We all watched as she paused her next step, bracing herself against the door. “No, no, no, no, NO! NO! NO! I can’t leave him here!”

My dad ran to her just before she completely lost it and began to collapse. I buried my head in my hands with thoughts of his warm smile and kind eyes replaying over and over.

“I’ll be a good brother, I promise.”

The level of pain I felt at that moment for my sister and her loss had me sagging against Dean, who caught me quickly. I watched my sister fall apart as my dad held her to him. He looked up at my mom, completely lost as she looked on, crying right along with her. Paul walked in moments later, seeing the scene unfolding and quickly gripping them both in his embrace, helping to support them as they slowly walked out the doors. We rode back in silence to my parent’s house and sat in the living room as Rose buried her head into my dad’s chest and cried silently for hours. My mom gave her a low-grade sedative, and when we finally got her asleep, we all hugged tightly and wordlessly and made our way to our bedrooms. I turned to Dean.

“I’m not leaving her. Please call the hospital. Also, please have Nichols check on Beatrice. You can go home.”

“I’m not leaving. I’ll handle it, but I’m not leaving.”

“It’s Christmas, Dean. Your mom—”

---