Page 10 of Sixty Days Of Summer

Ace:How serious are we talking?

Xander:His right arm and shoulder are broken, along with a few ribs.

Ace:Shit. We’re on our way.

After shoving my phone back into my pocket, I close the trunk and slide into the driver’s seat.

Scarlet casts a worried glance in my direction, her eyes filled with concern. “Ace, give it to me straight. How bad is it?”

Taking a deep breath, I glance over at her, my heart racing as I try to find the right words to break the news.

“Just tell me what’s going on, Ace. They’re my brothers, for fuck sake,” Scarlet demands, her voice trembling with fear.

“Xander says Theo’s a mess but he’s okay for now,” I tell her. “Nate’s in pretty bad shape— broken arm, busted shoulder, and a few cracked ribs. They’re getting him ready for surgery as we speak. It’s serious, but we’ll have a better idea of what’s going on once the doctors have had a chance to work on him.”

Scarlet’s face pales, her expression mirroring the weight of the news that just hit her. Her tears start up again, and I’m hit with that all-too-familiar feeling of being utterly useless. Feeling like a complete asshole, I avert my eyes, twist the key, and purposefully avoid making eye contact with her as the engine roars to life. There’s nothing I can do to fix this or even make her feel better, and I’ve got no clue how to handle this kind of pain. It’s like second nature for me to comprehend a woman’s desires in bed, but when faced with tears and heartbreak, I’m at a fucking loss.

The sense of inadequacy gnaws at me as we leave the airport behind. I can hear Scarlet’s soft sniffles, barely audible but enough to make my heart ache, as I grip the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles turning white. I keep my eyes fixed onthe road, desperately resisting the urge to reach out and do something, anything, to make this easier for her. But I keep reminding myself that if Poppy is at the hospital, or Theo, who is like a big brother to Scarlet,they will handle this situation better than I ever could. They’re the ones who can offer real comfort and support to her—they’re the ones who know how to deal with this kind of shit.

The silence in the car is thick and oppressive, punctuated only by the sound of Scarlet’s occasional sniffles. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice her grabbing her phone, her fingers tapping away rapidly as she frantically messages someone. For a moment, I wonder who she’s reaching out to, but I swiftly dismiss the thought. It’s not my place to worry about who she texts—her business is her own.

With an intense gaze, she stares at her phone screen, as though she’s using her sheer willpower to summon a message. Frustrated by the lack of a response, she lets out an annoyed huff and shifts her gaze towards the window, seeking solace in the outside world.

With her attention fixed on the view outside, my gaze drifts to the tattoo gracefully trailing down her arm. The intricate vines and flowers that intertwine to form a lion’s face just above her elbow is sexy as hell. I can’t help but wonder what significance that lion holds for her—there’s something about it, something I can’t quite grasp, that pulls me in and makes me curious as hell.

As she checks her phone, I concentrate on the road, determined to clear my mind and refrain from eyefucking her at every opportunity. It’s probably just my mind playing tricks—after five long months without any groupies to scratch that itch, my head’s a jumbled mess. Once we hit the road for the tour in a month, I’ll have plenty of chances to let loose, drowning out any thoughts of her.

“Ace,” she says.

I glance over and catch her biting her bottom lip. Fuck me. My cock twitches. I shift my focus back to the road, desperately trying to banish those thoughts.

“Yeah?” I reply, my voice sounding rougher than I intended.

“I texted Theo, but he’s not responding.”

Keeping quiet, my foot hovers over the brake pedal as we approach a red light. As we come to a stop, the sudden sound of a piercing ringtone reverberates throughout the car, pulling me from my thoughts. I glance at the dashboard and see Xander’s name flash across the screen.

Grateful for the distraction, I press the button on the steering wheel to answer. “Hey.”

“Are you guys almost here?” Xander’s voice crackles through the speaker.

“We’re still in the car, but we’re close,” I inform him.

“Nate’s heading into surgery now.”

“Got it,” I reply, but before I can say anything else, Scarlet’s voice cuts in.

“How bad is he, Xander?” she asks, her voice trembling.

“Hey, Scarlet,” Xander replies gently. “The doc said Nate’s shoulder is pretty messed up and they need to operate. I don’t have any more details yet. Theo asked me to call your parents—they’re on their way.”

Scarlet desperately wipes at her tears, but they continue to stream down her cheeks.

“Scarlet’s been trying to get in touch with Theo. Is he around?” I ask Xander.

“Yeah, he’s here,” Xander replies. “His phone got messed up in the crash. Hang on, I’ll get him for you.”

In the background, I hear Xander’s voice calling out to Theo. Relief washes over me, knowing that Theo— the guy who can drive me up the wall sometimes—is at least okay. Despite all thecrap he pulls, he’s still a brother to me, and I genuinely give a damn about him.

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