Page 65 of Thinking It Over

Dad bobbed his head once, and I huffed out a breath.

This was all kinds of messed up.

Debbie nudged me awake.I’d fallen asleep in the uncomfortable chair after refusing to check in to a nearby motel. I’d talked Dad into resting, though. He needed it. There was only so much his body and emotions could take before he’d truly feel the effect, and I wasn’t prepared for him to get sick and worry about him too.

My eyes sprang open and immediately traveled to Frankie. A doctor was at his side. I staggered out of my chair to reach my brother’s other side. At my movement, Frankie’s eyes landed on mine. Confusion clouded his gaze until understanding seemed to dawn. And with understanding came panic.

He jostled, gasping in pain, in distress, quite possibly in fear. He opened his mouth, but only a croak came out.

“Hey.” I reached out and gently touched his shoulder. “You’re okay.”

His eyes darted around the room. His distress was still evident.

“Frankie.” The doctor’s voice cut through the room. “Frankie,” he repeated. “I need you to focus on me, okay. And when you do, I can talk to you about what’s happening.”

Tension filled Frankie’s face, and I was sure the action must have hurt like hell. His eyes slammed back into mine. This time fear definitely the leading emotion.

“Frankie,” the doctor tried again. “Eyes on me, and we’ll get this all straightened out, okay?”

“It’s okay.” I tried again, my voice low and comforting. “Stop being a pain in the ass and listen to the good doc, okay?” I attempted a smile, trying my hardest to erase his panic. “Please, Frankie.” His eyes remained latched to me for a couple of seconds longer before he dragged his gaze away, and he made eye contact with his doctor.

I eased back a little, giving the nurse, who’d appeared, room to work on checking the machine, my whole focus on my brother.

As the doctor explained to him about his injuries, he also told him about his difficulty to talk due to swelling and damage to his tongue. Surprise hit me hard, and I looked at Debbie, whose face reflected her own surprise.

“I know it’s hard, and I’m sure you have questions,but please try to not talk. Tongues heal remarkably fast, but I still need you to take it easy.”

Frankie’s brows pinched, his fear turning to frustration.

“It’s safe for you to have small sips of water, but nothing else for a couple of hours. You should be fine for soup a little later. The nurse will talk everything through with you, okay?”

Frankie nodded, and for the first time, I released a real exhale. He understood. He was cognitive.

“We need to run a few tests, and then we’ll allow you to rest some more.”

Frankie made to speak, then slammed his eyes shut. I noticed his fist clench, and worry slid through me.

Shit, the woman.

“I’m just going to step outside and call Dad, okay?” I told Frankie when the doctor started a quiet discussion with the nurse. “I’m just out there and will be right back.” I walked past Debbie, asking her to stay while I checked in with Dad and Robin, and then wondered how on earth we were going to handle the devastation of Jane Doe.

It had been almost twenty-four hours since the accident, and the police were still investigating. The bike wasn’t registered in my brother’s name, or a woman’s, and apparently, the police were struggling to track down the owner. The positive, though, was it wasn’t stolen. I was ashamed to admit the thought had crossed my mind.

I walked to the end of the corridor to a quiet waiting area and pulled out my phone to start making my calls. Once done, I’d reach out to Jasper too. A quick glance at the time and working out the time zones told me he’d be at work, so a text would have to suffice.

I sighed, stretching out my neck and trying to formulate a plan of action. I just hoped Dad had got some rest and his brain was functioning a little better than mine.

SEVENTEEN

JASPER

Four dayshe’d been away. Four days of worry for the man who I knew would bear the brunt of caring for everyone but himself. Four days of him surviving on a handful of disrupted hours’ sleep. And four days of me missing him like crazy.

Work didn’t fall apart, which was a relief. It no doubt helped that we were close to the end of the school year, and all events had already been arranged and were ready to go.

Donnie, the assistant principal, was a bit of a prick at times—well, to me, given his thoughts about me dating the principal—but he was a familiar presence in the school and managed to step up and keep the place going.

Me?

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