Page 89 of When I'm Gone

I can’t let him hurt Chase. And Brady is right next door… Risking either of their lives makes the decision for me. One I hoped that I’d never be forced into again. Probably naïve of me, I should have known Aaron better than that. The lump in my throat is the size of a fist, but I force myself to speak over it. “If I go with you, you’ll leave him alone?”

He clucks his tongue. “Always such a martyr, aren’t you, Easton? But yes, I’ll leave your boy toy alone. All you have to do is to be a good boy and come home.”

Homeandgood boythreaten to make me ill, but I push through it. “Okay. I’ll go. I won’t cause anymore problems.”

Take a deep breath, in through your nose, hold it, then out through your mouth. You’re doing the right thing, the less people that have to get hurt, the better.

It’s my final comforting thought before Aaron brings the gun to my head again. A burst of pain, then it all goes black.

CHAPTER 27

CHASE

Something is wrong,I decide silently. Well, actually there's, like, a dozen things wrong at the moment, but I know that one of those is Easton’s radio silence. It’s not like him to just disappear with me, and I’m worried that his test didn’t go like he hoped. He’s going to be devastated if that’s the case, and the urge to get to him so I can put eyes on him, really see how he is, is approaching feral for me.

My thumbs hover over my phone, trying to decide if I should alert Brady. I want to respect Easton’s need for space if things didn’t go well, but I feel off about this.

“There’s my boy,” Mom murmurs, voice rough from lack of use and far weaker than I’d like. My head snaps up. She’s still so pale, washed out even further by the harsh lights and pale paper gown they’ve got her in.

I slide my phone into my pocket and relocate from the chair under the window to her bedside. “Hey, Momma,” I begin. “How are you feeling?” It’s a dumb question. She’s in the hospital after she lost her baby and almost her own life, for fuck’s sake. But it seems like something I should ask.

She gestures for me to sit, and after pouring her somewater, sticking a straw in it and bringing it to her lips, I do. Her normally flawless copper curls are matted from sweat and the bags under her eyes are puffy and swollen. She’s still beautiful, because a world doesn’t exist where she isn’t, but she’s been through hell.

“A bit less foggy, but I may have to cancel the 10k I was planning to run.”

I chuckle lightly, her sarcasm a familiar language for me. In truth, if you ever see my mom running, you should probably run too because something bad is chasing her. “We’ll call that the worst-case scenario.”

She nods thoughtfully, then slowly takes in my appearance. “I must have scared you guys something awful. You look like shit, baby boy.”

My eyes hit the back of my skull, I roll them so hard. “Well, you look better than I’ve ever seen you.”

A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “Damn right, I do. Where’s the rest of the circus?”

“You actually managed to wake up in the most quiet period of time this hospital room has seen. Logan went home to shower and wait for a babysitter. Parker and Emerson are on a coffee run, and Dad went to find a vending machine that has peanut M&M's.”

She shakes her head. “The man can’t function without his supply, can he?”

“Not once in my entire life, I’m pretty sure. He’s been impossible to pull away until now though, I’m sure you’re very shocked.”

Her answering sigh is affectionate in nature. “Even when I was having babies, that man wouldn’t leave my side in a hospital.”

Like the word slapped her back to reality, she gasps. “Chase… no. The baby is okay, isn’t she?” She looks around frantically, as if searching for a fetal monitor of some kind, but comes up empty.

“I’m so sorry, Momma. They couldn’t save her.” I’m not sure if the baby was a her, but if Mom feels like she was then that’s what I’m going with too.

Tears fill her stark green eyes. “No…”

I swallow thickly and nod. “They tried so hard to save you both, but she didn’t make it.”

Mom takes a few deep breaths through her nose, eyes squeezed shut with her head angled towards the ceiling. Totally unsure how to help, I take her hand and hope I’m doing some good.

This kind of thing is unfathomable until one earth-shattering day comes along and makes it a reality. As much as I was concerned about this pregnancy, I never, ever wanted this. My mom was meant to be a mom of a thousand kids. She has an endless well of love in her heart that will never run dry, arms that are always open to anyone who needs it. Someone like her losing a baby, especially in such a traumatic way, is a special brand of unkindness. Logic dictates that we should be grateful that she lived to see another day, and I am. Almost more than I can bear. But there’s also this anger simmering in my veins, because why did it have to be her? Why anyone, but why my mom?

“Baby, look at me.”

I do, forcing all the negative thoughts away and trying to focus on the woman in front of me, not what should have been. She attempts to smile, but it falls short. “Do you forget I made that big beautiful brain in your head?”

Oh, boy. I feel a lecture coming. This might be the first one that I’m looking forward to, even if it is only because I was worried there’d never be another. “Never, Momma,” I swear to her.

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