When To Let Go (29 page)

Ava came over to stand in the middle of Parker and Ryder, holding their hands. All three of them had tears falling down.

Violet’s boyfriend stood in the background in shock. Dakota was next to him, mirroring him.

Wes was with his parents.

Nobody had mentioned Maggie. Ryder didn’t know what that meant.

He knew it wasn’t good that her side was too smashed in to properly see her.

There were so many people working at the site that you couldn’t see the two girls as they were lifted onto a helicopter. The only silver lining was that the tracks offered a safe place for the helicopter to land.

At the moment both girls were fighting for their lives. They feared Violet wouldn’t make it to the hospital in time.

The police that had arrived offered everyone a ride to the hospital, knowing no one was in their right mind to drive. Xavier’s family and fiancé waited for the coroner’s van to come and take away his body.

Both girls were in surgery when they arrived. Nobody could give them a direct answer on their status or the extent of the damage that had been done.

Noah was raising hell to get some answers, the nurses looking scared to death of him.

Ryder slid down a wall, resting his arms over bent knees.

What if this was it? What if he lost her?

The mere idea of it had him fighting for his lungs to breathe.

Breathe
.
Just Breathe
, he kept having to say over and over to himself as they waited.

“Mom,” Wesley choked out in a pained sob.

One by one they looked from his frantic eyes to the hand that was placed on the side of his head. The name “Violet” expelled from his lips only a fraction of a second before “Code Blue” was heard from the loud speakers. Nurses quickly ran past them to the OR.

Lily cupped a hand over her mouth, shaking her head back and forth, tears covering her eyes.

Noah went back to his pacing, his breathing coming out rapid and fast, his hands at his hips, shaking.

Wes squeezed his eyes closed, hand still on his head in the area everyone knew was being operated on.

Ava was curled into a ball in her chair, crying silently, her eyes never leaving Wesley.

Ryder was still sitting against the wall with his legs tucked to his chest, forehead on his knees. One would think he was asleep if it wasn't for his fists clenching and unclenching.

The whole time, Parker remained detached, watching it all unfold as though it were a movie from the comfort of his home. He didn't know these people. He didn't know the two girls they were grieving. None of this was real.

Parker kept watching, going back and forth to each person.

A nurse came out sometime later. He didn’t know how much later. Time had ceased to matter.

Her voice was distant and faint. His brain only registered bits and pieces of the conversation, “cardiac arrest”; “stabilized”; “have to keep going through with surgery or they will lose her”; “unsure of the amount of brain damage she will suffer if she survives.”

Parker grabbed the trashcan next to his chair, vomiting into it over and over until his insides felt like they had gone with it.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his trembling hand. Someone handed him a paper cup of water that sloshed out of the sides as his unsteady hand brought it to his lips. Most of it dribbled down his chin, his mouth forgetting how to work.

Lots of questions were being thrown at the nurse. Parker strained to hear, everything in his body not functioning like they should.

The nurse didn’t seem to have any more answers. Maggie was mentioned. They couldn’t report anything yet. Noah was yelling. Parker didn’t know why. At the moment he was only capable of staring at the carpet in front of him.

This wasn’t real. It was some person’s idea of a sick joke.

He wished they'd deliver the punch line soon so this could all be over and they could yell at the asshole for thinking this would be funny. Then Violet and him could go home and forget all about today, never bringing it up again.

More time passed, the room tense, the air thick with sorrow.

A nurse came to find out who matched Violet's blood type; they were going to need it, stat.

Ava and Parker were the only ones who couldn’t help. The two siblings watched everyone in the room file out.

On shaking legs, Parker stood. He felt as though they were walking for the first time as they lead his body out the front doors to the side of the building.

He stared at the brick wall for a long time.

“Aaarrrggh!” He cried out from deep inside, his fist repeatedly punching the wall in front of him.

His sister’s soft hands reached out to stop him.

His hands were covered in blood.

Parker finally registered that she was talking to him.

He couldn’t understand her.

He pulled her into him, holding on for dear life, crying into her shoulder.

They slid down the wall to the ground, him sobbing, her holding him like a mother would, soothing him with gentle strokes along his scalp.

He couldn’t seem to stop crying.

He didn’t even stop when there was nothing left and he was gasping for air.

He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t lose the best part of himself.

He couldn’t lose the woman he loved.

Had always loved.

Wes and his family listened as a doctor explained the situation Maggie was in.

She was currently in a coma, which wasn’t uncommon when surviving a crash such as hers. He listed off all her broken bones and the extensive damage each one had taken. Only time would tell how she healed. One thing was for certain, she had a long road of recovery ahead of her. Now all they could do was wait for her to wake.

Aunt Naomi and Aunt Stevie arrived with coffee for everyone after checking in with the Kings. Wes hadn’t even allowed himself to digest the loss of his best friend, who had been like a brother to him. He needed to make sure his sisters would survive before he could properly mourn.

Violet’s boyfriend had come to the hospital and was helping hand out coffee to everyone. Parker and Ava were missing.

Wes wanted Ava back. He needed her close. She was a comfort to him, forgetting about all the pain she had caused him. It was nothing in comparison to what he was feeling now. Nothing had ever hurt like this.

Time became unknown as they waited. All he knew was that it was taking far too long.

A nurse came out to inform them that Maggie had been moved to recovery and that they’d allow one person at a time see her. Naturally the mother went first. The father went next. Then came Wes’s turn.

He almost didn’t go, but he had to hold her hand, let her know he was there.

Seeing his sister in head-to-toe casts with tubes sticking out of her mouth had him crying for the first time since the crash happened.

“You can talk to her,” the nurse advised. “They believe it helps.”

Wes wanted to ask who “they” were but knew it was irrelevant.

He held her fragile hand, tears dropping down between them, “Please, Maggie. We need you to wake up. I can’t do this without you.” By “this” he meant everything; most importantly, life. He wiped his tears with his free hand, “Violet still needs our strength. She needs both of us to believe she’ll be okay. I can’t walk this earth without you both. Please, Maggie, wake up.”

Wes didn’t want to leave when a nurse came to tell him his time was up. He did what he was told, leaving his baby sister by three minutes a kiss on the forehead, mouthing an “I love you” along the skin.

Parker and Ava were back when he returned to the waiting room, both with red rimmed, puffy eyes. Bandages were around Parker’s hands, blood on both their shirts.

Wes caught Ava’s eye, “You alright?”

She nodded confirmation, “It’s not mine.”

He wanted nothing more than to reach out and for them to hold each other. He turned to his parents instead, the three of them combining their strength.

He must have dozed off for a fraction of a second, because his mother standing jostled him awake.

Violet’s surgeon was standing in the room.

That man became the room’s oracle, their center of being.

“She made it through.”

Those words were the most beautiful words in the world to hear.

“However,” the surgeon continued to explain what they had had to do in the operating room in order to safely remove the metal. She had been lucky that it missed her optic nerve. “She’s not out of the woods yet. These next few hours will be critical.”

Lily was the only one they allowed to go see her.

Noah paced until his wife returned.

She flew into her husband’s arms, sobbing and laughing. Her husband looked down at his wife like he was worried for her sanity.

“She said my name,” Lily sniffled into his shirt. “She told me I looked terrible and needed some sleep.”

Noah laughed softly too, knowing that if Violet still had her wit she’d be okay. The two held each other close, crying both in relief and the unknown of the future.

Another hour passed. Mr. Baxter was trying to convince his wife and his son to go home and get some rest. Mrs. Baxter refused to leave until her babies did.

Mr. Baxter didn’t argue, holding his wife tighter.

Ava didn’t like the way Wes looked, with dark circles and bags under his eyes.

“I’ll take you home?” Ava suggested in a much stronger voice than she felt.

Wes’s expression told her no as he stared into her eyes, “Yeah, okay.”

Her mum didn’t want her to drive, so she offered to drive Wes home on the way to bringing the rest of the Stones home.

Parker quickly spoke up, “I’m not leaving.”

Neither parent put up a fight.

Dawn was saying its goodbye, stars brightening the sky as they left.

“I’m going to stay at the Baxter’s,” Ava broached the subject once inside the car. Her parents looked like they were about to object, so she spoke before they could, “He can’t be alone right now.”

They agreed.

When they arrived at Wes’s she led him up the stairs to the bathroom, turning on the shower to a pleasant temperature, “Clean up. I’ll go make us food.”

On her way out he reached for her hand.

She paused, looking over her shoulder. He gave it a squeeze, his eyes speaking for him.

She squeezed back.

They let go at the same time.

After searching the fridge for what to make she decided on soup, figuring it didn’t require much effort to get down.

She heated it in a pan then placed it on the table, taking a seat next to where she placed his. She listened to him take a long shower. When he didn’t come down after, she went to check on him.

Ava knocked softly on Wes’s bedroom door, “Can I come in?”

No response. It didn’t stop her, she needed to see how he was holding up. She couldn’t imagine the pain he must be in.

Slowly opening the door, she peeked around the side.

Wes was settled on the floor with his back against the mattress, knees up, his arms draped over them, and his head hung as low as it could go. His hair was dripping wet from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist. The sadness pouring out of him became all she cared about.

Even though she was the last person he would want comfort from she still went to him, dropping to her knees. She placed her hands on his arms, words failing her.

His body began to shake from his silent tears. Her fingers caressed his skin, trailing down to his fingers where she held them over her own, bringing them to her mouth for a gentle kiss. It wasn't sexual or intimate; its intent was to convey that she was there for him.

After her lips parted he curled his hands around hers, drawing her towards him so she was fully between his thighs, his arms holding her to him. She moved hers around his neck, so his face could better rest in the crevice of her neck. They both cried, grieving over the loss of a close friend and the terrifying unknown for his sisters.

“Take the pain away, Ava,” Wes rasped into her neck. “Please, take it away.”

She didn't know how, it seemed impossible, “How? I'll do anything.”

He inhaled her, his lips pressing against her skin. The exhale could be felt all over, and not from its strength.

“Kiss me,” his mouth brushed up to her ear and down her jaw. “The way you used to, when you still loved me.”

Ava swallowed back the urge to stay she’d never stopped. This wasn't the time for that.

His lips stopped at the edge of hers, waiting.

All it took was a slight turn of her head for their lips to merge together. She choked back a sob from the contact, the deep ache she’d carried since their breakup flaring to life, making her mouth move desperately against his, wanting to absorb him into her.

With one arm securing her to him, his other landed on the carpet, easing her down.

She was on her back, the weight of Wesley on top, his mouth just as greedy as hers.

Previous events vanished from her mind; all she could feel was him, from the inside out.

One of his hands cupped the side of her face, the other just under her jaw, around the neck, making it so she couldn't move, giving him control over the kiss. His hips settled more between hers, the towel long gone and his erection pushing against the cotton of her undies. They both rocked, causing explicit friction. The hand at her jaw left to hold onto her hip, grasping the material of her dress in his hand, lifting it so his hand was on top of the skin. Fingers weaved into her hair, tugging it to the left, forcing her head to turn enough that his mouth could suck and bite along her neck.

Wes tugged on her undies, “Let me in, Ava.”

She lifted her hips so he could slide them down her legs, then he yanked her dress over her head so they were flesh against flesh.

He rested his tip at her entrance, placing his forehead to hers, breathing heavily.

“Do you want me?” His aroused, gruff voice asked.

“Always,” Ava breathed out, a tear escaping the corner of her eye.

His mouth met hers once again, his tongue entering at the same time he did, working together in harmony.

As though no time had passed, they eased into a familiar rhythm, one that had them in sync, building to their release as though they were one body. They held tight as they came together, neither moving for a long time after.

Wesley pushed off the carpet to lean back on his heels, eyes roaming her body.

Ava was too sedated and relaxed to have any insecurities. She could feel a lazy, half grin on her face.

“It's getting late, we should get some rest,” Wes was up on his feet, pulling on his bottoms and shirt.

She grabbed her dress, remaining on the floor as she put it back on.

“You can have the bed, I'll take the couch,” he informed her, taking one of his pillows and the blanket at the end of his bed. He was out the door, closing it behind him before she had a chance to protest.

Ava knew what happened didn't mean anything; he needed to escape. He’d used her and she willingly let him. It didn't stop her from crying into her pillow, missing him more than ever.

She didn't regret it; she'd never regret time with him.

Eventually she fell into a restless sleep.

The sound of the door creaking open had her fully awake.

Night still shined through the window, the moon casting a glow over the room, spotlighting Wesley as he came to the bed.

He lifted the covers, sliding right up against her. He took her in his arms, her back to his front, holding her to him for the rest of the night. His warm breath was a lullaby that soothed her to sleep.