Page 105 of After All The Wreckage
Chills ran over my skin as I crossed to the other side of the bed. Normally, I had to be careful of the tubes and the wires. Now there was nothing. Nothing but my mom’s body that had withered slowly away and a heart that had come to a complete stop. I climbed in with her. Climbed in, even though I knew there was nothing there. Her chest wasn’t moving. No breath escaped her pale lips.
She was gone.
She was gone, and I hadn’t gotten to say goodbye. Not before she’d crashed into the Potomac almost a year ago. Not before some asshole had forged my signature on the order to turn off her life support.
“I’m so sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” I cried, holding an empty shell.
Nan raised a tear-stained face, letting my mother’s hands drop as she reached for mine. “I tried, Rory. I tried to get them to stop.” The pain in her voice sent another sharp crack through my chest and more sobs escaped.
“B-betty at the front called me… She didn’t understand why we weren’t here… She kn-knew we’d never let her go alone. They’d already removed everything… They showed me the order with your signature. I told them there was some m-mistake.”
She shook her head, and I could see she was trembling as hard as I was. I squeezed her hand as we both cried. Horrified awful tears. Even knowing that Nan had thought we should do exactly this, we never would have done it this way. Never.
Movement in the doorway behind Nan revealed Gage. He had my bag and my phone in his hands. He stepped inside the room, dropping the items on the love seat where I’d often done my work while keeping Mom company.
When he turned back to me, his eyes were full of grief and sorrow. A huge knot formed in my throat. I couldn’t breathe again. I gasped, trying to get air.
Gage rushed over to me, brushing my hair away from my face as his hand fell to my back. “God… Pipsqueak… I’m so sorry.”
His voice held the same guilt I was feeling. Guilt that wasn’t his. He wasn’t the professional. He wasn’t the one who’d fucked up. He wasn’t the one who’d led a cartel to our doors.
I struggled to gain control of the sobs so I could speak. “Go, Gage! Go to Monte and Ivy. Call Muloney. Get an officer at your door.”
His eyes rounded, large and frightened. I could feel the debate within him. The need to stay with me battling with the need to protect his siblings. And the bittersweetness of it bled through the agony inside me.
It mattered more than I’d ever be able to express that he was debating—that he cared enough to actually want to stay. But I’d already lost my mother. There was nothing we could do here, whereas he could still protect his family.
“Go!” I all but yelled.
It shocked him. I hadn’t meant that I didn’t want him with me. I ached to let myself get lost in his comfort. To lose myself in the warmth of his embrace, but that would just be another mistake. He needed to be with his brother and sister. That’s where he belonged first and foremost.
He stepped back, wavering still, looking from me to Nan and back. Sadness and indecision poured from his eyes.
I swallowed hard, trying to soften my tone so he knew I wasn’t angry with him. So he knew I needed him to do this. “Please. I’m okay. But you need to get to them. I… I won’t be able to live with myself if something else happens tonight… if they get hurt.”
That was all it took. He whirled around and was gone.
I turned back to Nan. Her tears were slow and steady while mine ravaged my body and poured down my face.
I’d lost Mom.
I’d lost her because I’d thought I was smarter than them. Because the damn chip on my shoulder had me trying to prove that I could outwit them.
Nan and I lay there, tucked against my mom until my tears turned into a silent stream rather than a torrential wave. My face felt swollen and pained. My entire body ached as if I’d run a marathon.
I’d fought for so long to help her survive, and now she would never have the chance to prove to the world she hadn’t given up. That she was a Marlowe through and through, fighting for every inch of life she could gather.
I wasn’t sure how long we’d lain there tangled together before Dad showed up. He wasn’t in his typical suit but a pair of jeans and a button-down with loafers on his feet. It was the most casual I’d seen my father in maybe a decade. A frown twisted his face as he moved into the room, glance darting between the three of us.
He rubbed a large hand over his chin, tears welling in his eyes, and I wasn’t sure who they were for—him or me or Mom. He approached us slowly, squeezed my shoulder, and asked, “Do you know what happened?”
I did. I did but couldn’t bring myself to say it. To see the disappointment in his eyes… and in Nan’s. So I closed mine.
I turned back to my mother. I kissed her cheek. It was already cold.
It was always cold in this room, but this felt different. As if there was now ice instead of blood in her veins. As if she was gradually becoming stone instead of flesh and bone.
Dad moved back so I could climb out of the bed. My legs wobbled, and I would have fallen if he hadn’t caught me. He pulled me against his chest with both hands, holding on tight.
