Bellissimo Rilascio (Beautiful Release): The Family Series #3 (22 page)

“Your brother’s here.”

“Of course he is.” I smirk at her. No resentment because I love the way they are with each other. Just because he’s here doesn’t mean she will be all over him. Together, yet separate. I look towards the door, and I punch the shit out of her. Spilling her drink in the process so her shirt is now see-through and my brother will flip his lid.

“What the fuck, Binks?”

“How about amending your last statement to ‘your brother’s here, and he has Dakota and Lisa with him’.”

“I didn’t know, bitch. That hurt.” She rubs her arm.

“There isn’t enough alcohol.”

“I thought you were okay with them. The wedding is next week.”

“I’m fine, but I know Heath wouldn’t be.”

“Binks, be you. Let the chips fall where they may.”

Surprisingly, nothing is awkward, and the entire evening is going well. Lisa is tipsy, discussing every detail of the wedding and her parents. I don’t dislike her, but I don’t know her, and that has to change. I don’t want to share secrets because let’s face it, we’ve both had sex with her fiancé, and that’s just awkward.

I call Lynsey to the side of the stage and tell her my plan. Her grin and laughter let me know this is a good thing. “I’m happy for you, Bianca. The ghosts are gone.”

“My knight in shining armor saved me.” I bat my eyelashes at her, and I join the rest of my friends, letting her do this for me.

“Okay ladies and gentlemen,” her voice makes everyone hush, “we have a request tonight. Lisa and Dakota please come to the center of the floor.” Lisa turns beet red, and Dakota pulls her behind him. “Bianca wants to wish you well and happy future and yada yada yada . . . her words. She also wants me to sing this song for you.” Her guitar begins the melody of Jana Kramer’s ‘I Got the Boy.’

I know there are no hard feelings when Lisa holds her side in laughter, and Dakota pulls her to him, swaying back and forth.

Chapter Twenty
-
Nine

Heath

Five weeks without her.

Thirty-five days of missing her.

Eight hundred forty hours since I’ve seen her smile.

I’ve drunk myself into a stupor every night.

I’ve cursed the fates for the cluster-fuck we are in.

I’ve realized that I can’t live without her.

I’ve realized I can’t live amongst the past.

Lynsey has done a terrific job of managing the bar and recording studio, so I’m going to offer her that position on a permanent basis. My bags are packed, and I have a few loose ends to tie up in Miami before I go back to my dad’s.

A hiatus from chaos.

A break from memories.

A lull in loving her.

It’s a quick flight to Miami, and I walk in the club looking for Lynsey. I can’t find her, so I ask Jim, our head bartender. “Where’s Lynsey tonight?”

“Some wedding,” he calls back.

Of course. She’s Bianca’s plus one. Bianca asked me to attend with her via voicemail, and I was too much of a coward to call her back.

“Hey. It’s me. Again. We need to discuss your phone etiquette. Anywho, the wedding is this weekend, and I know he isn’t your favorite person, but I’d like you to go with me. Not as moral support, but as my date. As my boyfriend. Maybe seeing it with your own eyes will give you closure.”

It’s all my issue. She says the right things, acts the right way, but when he is close, I lose all sense of rational thought. I go back to the apartment to make sure all my stuff is gone and see the invitation. I look around and see our moments framed in the apartment. She has our pictures on every available surface. She did this while I was gone. There are some
Architectural Digest
magazines on the table with pages earmarked. The houses have a little of her and little of me.

Parents
magazine is on the nightstand with a sticky note.

Molly and Chris are out. We pick our names together
.

The box of her past is under the bed, so I pull it out. All that’s left in it are pictures of us and cards and notes I sent her. The box from her pendant I gave her for graduation.

I’m a fucking idiot. Every word she spoke was the truth, but my fear of the unknown refused to let me hear it. I felt it with every touch, every smile, and every whispered promise. She gave me everything, and I tossed it back, yet here she sat day after day waiting.

Believing.

Loving.

She gave me more in these past weeks than I ever deserved. I rush back and grab the invitation, calling a cab. I’m crashing a wedding, but for one good reason.

Her.

I toss some bills at the driver and hurry out. Traffic is a bitch, and I didn’t want to wait, so I have to cross the street. I can make out Callie and Bianca at the bottom of the steps, and then the bride and groom step from the church, and everyone starts throwing rice.

I watch her slender neck as she tosses her head back in laughter, the sound reaching me across the street, my entire body going slack. I can breathe deeply, the stress erased from my body. She looks over at me and cocks her head.

I smile and seem to be rooted in place just watching her. She moves off the bottom step and takes a step towards the curb. Once she’s sure it’s me, she blows me a kiss. Before her hand drops back down, my world ends.

In a flash, all I see is the maroon of the car careening towards her. Screams echo all around me, but I can’t move. Her body flies through the air and lands fifteen feet from the impact. I dash forward, and Bronson is next to her. Someone is talking to 911, and I look at her face. Eyes closed, not a mark on her. He’s searching for a pulse, so I grab her hand.

“Don’t move her.” I gently cover her hand with mine and pray she’ll be okay. I hear sirens; suddenly she’s swarmed by paramedics, listening to them call out codes and stats. I’m transported to replaying the crash over and over. I watch as they put braces all over her, load her on the gurney, and rush her towards the ambulance. Callie climbs in with her and Bronson hollers for Lynsey and I to ride with him.

Silence.

We are all trapped in our own hell with this waiting game. Dakota and Lisa went to pick up Gianna before coming here because she was babysitting Angelo during the wedding ceremony.

The emergency room is sterile; antiseptic burns my nostrils. I watch as a doctor comes through the doors and calls, “Agosto family.”

We all stand. United front. Just then Dakota walks in with Gianna, and I watch her face fall from the doctors words. “She’s suffering from intracranial pressure. Her brain is swelling, and unfortunately, the skull doesn’t allow a lot of room for that. We’ve had to start her on several IV’s, and she is being transferred to ICU. Her blood pressure is dropping, and we believe the fluids and medicine will stabilize that. We’ll keep her monitored, and if the pressure increases, we don’t have a choice but to open the skull.”

“Will she be okay?” Gianna is shaken and holding on to Bronson so she doesn’t collapse.

“We won’t know anything for the first twenty-four to forty-eight hours. Brain swelling is unpredictable. We do recommend you spend time with her, talk to her. We always like to prepare you.”

“Jesus,” I mutter.

I wasted so much time and realized it too late. I want to scratch my skin off, shed the guilt. I close my eyes and breathe, trying to suppress the bile in my throat.

I see the maroon car.

I hear the impact.

I see her body being heaved in the air.

I hear the screams.

I see her body stretched in odd angles, her eyes closed, her face serene. Beauty engulfed her broken body.

“Heath?” Bronson breaks me from my hellish replay.

“Yeah?” Callie walks up next to me and places her hand on my arm. Her eyes full of unshed tears, her face pale, and her body visibly shaking.

“We can go up to the ICU floor. Only two in at a time, and they are lifting visiting hours for tonight.”

I follow him, and Callie’s soft voice fills my ears. “She knew you’d come back. Your faith may have been tested, but hers was strong.”

I hesitate and turn from her family. Her hand tugs me, and I fight it. I can’t sweep in her room and sit next to her knowing it’s my fault she’s there. If I hadn’t been stubborn and just trusted my heart I would have been next to her and not across the street. She wouldn’t have been that close to the curb. Right now we’d be at a reception, her in my arms. “Don’t do this. Not now,” Callie pleads with me.

I continue the jaunt to the ICU, and there’s some discussion about who goes in first and who stays where. “It isn’t about us. It’s about her. We can all take turns, but she’d want him there.” Gianna Agosto is my champion when she should be tossing me to the wolves.

“You can go in, I’ll wait.” I back towards the corner, I don’t want to be seen right now. My body is shutting down; I’m not strong enough for this.

I watch Callie and Gianna go into her room, and the door shuts, blocking my view. Dakota and Lisa rush into the waiting room, and I’m instantly angry. My emotions make me feel like I have whiplash. I can’t blame him for everything, and while he makes a good scapegoat, this time it’s my fault. I distance myself further from them; everything in my psyche wants to flee, yet my heart demands I stay.

Gianna exits the room, and Bronson immediately goes to her side. She’s not weeping, but looks crestfallen. She moves from his arms, “Callie won’t leave right now. Go be with her and your sister. I need to sit down for a few minutes.”

She takes the seat closest to my corner, and she allows me solitude for a few moments. “Do you pray, Heath?”

“Sometimes.”

“Now is the time.” I clench my hands in fists with that warning. She can’t be telling me what I think she is. Bianca can’t lose this battle. “I’m going to the chapel if you want to join me.”

I don’t. If I start praying that’s admitting there is a reason, and I know she’ll be fine. She goes to Dakota and Lisa and they follow her. Bronson comes back and searches for them.

“Dakota and Lisa took your mom to the chapel. Is everything okay?”

“No.” His body sags in defeat. “Callie is still in there, won’t leave her side, but I can’t.”

“She needs you.”

“She’s not even present. Wires everywhere. A machine breathing for her. Fuck.” His voice cracks along with his composure. “That’s my sister in there.”

“That’s my world.”

“Then go hang onto it. Go save her, please.” He covers his face with his hands, and the sounds emitting from his body send shivers through me. I watch him crumble not able to offer him comfort. The elevators open, and Dakota steps off with coffee, and I take the first steps towards her room.

Nothing can prepare you for this scene. Callie has her head pressed against Bianca’s shoulder, her hand stroking her forearm. Soothing her . . . from what I’m unsure. The room feels vacant, yet it’s full of machines and monitors. Each beeping and hissing, making its presence known. Probes are placed around her head, needles on every surface of her hands, a tube down her throat, an oxygen mask over her nose, the top of her hospital gown exposed for leads on her chest, a blood pressure cuff squeezes her arm. Somewhere under all that is Bianca. As I get closer, I see her eyelids, and I beg for her to open them. I take her hand, pleading for her to wrap her fingers with mine.

I remember the look she had on her face when she saw me, the way she playfully blew me a kiss before our world detonated. Demolished in seconds. The nurses come in and check all the numbers, make notations, and leave me with Callie and Bianca. “She’s gonna be okay.” Callie has an edge of defiance to her voice.

“She is,” I agree.

“She’s fought so hard . . . it isn’t fair.”

“It isn’t.”

“I’m mad at you, but I know if she could, she’d kick my ass for saying that.”

“She would.” I smile.

“You abandoned her.”

“I know.”

“Are you back for good?”

“If she’ll have me.”

“She will.”

“Yeah, she will.” We sit vigilantly by her side for hours. Callie dozes off, and I take this opportunity to talk to Bianca. “Beautiful, I’m sorry. I need you to wake up. I can’t do this without you. I need you to forgive me. I was an asshole.” Monitors flash red and scream in alarm. Callie’s head snaps up, her eyes filled with terror. The door flies open, and people are everywhere.

“Pressure rising. It’s at twenty-nine and rising. Stat OR.” Her bed is pulled from our hands, machines unplugged and following her. A nurse climbs on her bed manually ventilating her, and Callie and I are standing in the empty room.

I sink to the floor, screaming incoherently. Everyone else rushes in her room, and a nurse follows. “Her pressure spiked meaning the swelling is increasing. It has to be relieved right away if there is any chance to save her. She has been taken to the operating room.”

“What does this mean?” Gianna cries.

“The doctors will drill to create a hole in her skull to drain fluid, but they may have to open the skull if the swelling doesn’t abate.”