Chapter 25
Twenty-Five
Olivia
The bar is busy again. I wonder if there’s ever a day it isn’t.
My phone starts ringing in my pocket, but I ignore it, it’s going to be one of two people. Either Mom asking me to bring something over tomorrow or Dad telling me to be safe when I go home.
Missing the call, my phone vibrates again, but with the rush at the bar, I'm not able to answer. A few seconds later, it rings again. I quickly finish serving the guy in front of me, then walk to the side.
Yanking my phone out of my back pocket, already annoyed because my parents know I’m at work, but then I see the name on the screen.
Unknown Number – Emergency Dispatch.
A hollow chill rolls through my body like ice water. My thumb hovers over the answer button as my body freezes. Fear moves through my body, and with a shaking hand I answer.
“Hello?” Not sure if they hear me as I don’t hear myself.
“Is this Olivia Banks?”
My voice barely works. “Y-yes. Who’s calling?”
“This is Officer Ramirez with the Police Department. I need you to stay calm. There’s been an accident, your parents, have been involved in a motor vehicle collision on the Highway. An ambulance has taken them to St. Jude’s Medical Center. They’re en-route now.”
My knees nearly buckle.
“No. what? What…what do you mean accident?” I blink hard, trying to see through the sudden blur clouding my eyes. “Are they okay? Are they alive? Are they hurt…oh my God—”
“Miss Banks, I need you to stay calm. Emergency services are with them. Both were responsive when medics arrived, but there were injuries. The hospital will have more information. We’re advising you to meet them there.”
My hand clamps over my mouth, a strangled sob catches in my throat. This can't be happening.
“Okay,” I breathe. “Okay, I…I’ll go. I’m going now.”
“Do you need us to send someone to get you—”
“No. I’ll drive. I have my car. Just… thank you.”
I end the call with trembling fingers, blinking fast. My vision swims. This isn’t real. This can’t be real. This is a messed up dream and nothing else.
I turn, my body moving before my mind catches up, and see Lincoln at the front near the entrance. I rush toward him, wiping at my face, but my tears keep falling faster than I can stop them.
“Olivia?” Lincoln frowns, stepping toward me. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head, lips parting but nothing comes out. “I—I don’t—my parents—” I stammer, shifting from foot to foot. My chest is caving in. “It’s bad, L-Lincoln, I can’t—” I can’t breathe.
“Hey, hey—” He grabs my arms gently, trying hard to calm me down, not sure it’s happening. “Breathe. Look at me. Tell me what’s going on. Slow down.”
“I just—I got a call. My parents—” I hiccup, dragging in air like I’m drowning, because fuck it feels like I am. “They—they were in an accident. The police called me. They’re going to the hospital—St. Jude’s.”
He nods; he puts his finger to his ear as he steps away from me. I hear him talking quietly to Cain. I can’t make out the words. My ears are ringing, my mind is going crazy, and I want to just wake up from this nightmare.
I rub my palms over my cheeks, ashamed of how I’m falling apart in front of everyone.
When Lincoln turns back to me, his face softens. “Go. Do you need a ride?”
I shake my head, jerking back. “No…I have my car.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, I just…I need to go. Please tell Mr. Cain I’m sorry—”
Lincoln waves it off. “Olivia, I don’t think he cares about that right now. Just go see your parents. But I want a message from you the moment you get there. And an update. Got it?”
I nod, but the words are stuck in my throat like glue.
He watches me carefully, as I seem to not be able to move. “Are you sure you can drive?”
“Yes… yes, I—I can.” I lie.
With heavy feet, my body feels like I have the whole world on my shoulders, I feel Lincoln watching me, my legs are made of stone as I make it to my car.
My hands shake as I open the door. When I finally get in and start the engine, the tremble moves from my fingertips to my entire body and for some reason I burst out in tears, not able to hold it together.
I grip the steering wheel like it’s the only thing that feels real at the moment.
What if they don’t make it?
What if I get there too late?
What if the last time I see them, they’re unconscious? Or worse… zipped in a bag?
Panic claws up my throat like fire. I wipe the tears away again, my mom, sweet, strong, who wears scarves to hide her thinning hair but never loses her light. My dad, stubborn, overprotective dad, who still walks me to the car like I’m six years old.
What if I never get another one of those moments again?
What if I never get to hear them bicker in the kitchen?
Or see them slow dance on Sundays to their wedding song?
What if the last words I ever said to them weren’t I love you, but I’m working late?
I slam the gear stick into reverse and back out of the lot. Drive, Olivia. Just drive.
Please be okay. Please, God, let them be okay.
No one prepares you for this. No one tells you what it’s like to sit in a hospital parking lot, knowing you might walk into a world where the worst possible news will be given to me.
Finally getting the courage to get out of the car, I push through the doors into the waiting room, barely registering the sterile scent which smacks me in the face. My feet feel like they’re barely touching the ground as I fly to the desk.
“My parents, surname Banks…they were just brought in. There was an accident.”
The woman behind the desk clicks her mouse, nods once. “They’re in surgery.”
My throat tightens. “Surgery? Are they okay? Please. Anything.” Why does my throat feel like it’s about to close up on me?
“I’m sorry. That’s all I can say right now.
Someone will speak with you when they can.
” She walks to the other side, as if she knows I’m not leaving the desk until I get more answers from her.
The answer she gave me is shit and I’m not leaving until I get more.
Waiting for a moment hoping she'll turn back to face me but nothing. No more answers, no comfort in telling me they’re okay, I turn and I leave the front desk.
I sink into the chair, stiff plastic against my back. My body starts to shake. I feel the tingle in my fingertips. I dig through my bag, for my phone remembering to send Lincoln a message, I could leave it, but I have a feeling he is someone you don’t ignore.
Olivia
I'm here. They’re in surgery. Still don’t know anything.
I press send, then lower my phone to my lap and stare at the floor. A minute passes. Then five. Then ten. Then an hour. Two hours.
I see a nurse coming out, and I quickly walk over to her.
“Mr. and Mrs. Banks, anything new—”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, I don’t have information,” the nurse replies then quickly goes to walk away but I stop her.
“I just…if you could check—”
“I’m not their doctor.” She walks away, and I stand there looking into the corridor hoping a doctor will come out any second now.
Two hours, and nothing, this can’t be good.
I pace the waiting room, wiping the tears which are coming non-stop. The longer I have to wait the more I’m thinking the worst.
Moving back and forth in the waiting room, it’s the only thing I can do, sitting down is worse than walking the same path in the waiting room.
The lights flicker slightly above me. The buzzing hum of machines.
The beep of monitors through the hallway.
Maybe they're my parents' machines beeping in the distance, maybe they don't have machines beeping for them.
No one is telling me anything.
No one is saving me from this horrible nightmare.
Two hours, that’s how long I’ve been waiting for a fucking answer.
I think about the last thing I said to my mom.
Something stupid. Something normal. I can’t even remember what it was.
Did I tell her I loved her? God, I hope I said I love you to them both, I can’t have the last words I said to them be something stupid like, I’ll get some cereal on the way back home.
The room spins slightly, I feel my head going light on me, which could be from walking nonstop for two hours or not having any water because I’ve been crying since I got the news of the accident.
And then something shifts. A feeling, first. Like a shadow passes over my chest. A warning?
I lift my head slowly and turn.
Across the room, standing near the entrance.
Hayden.
He’s here.
And I can’t move.
Can’t breathe.
Can’t even blink.
He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move either, just stares at me.
He watches me like the weight of the world is resting between us, like every unspoken thing we’ve ever shared is wrapped up in the space of a single glance.
He’s the last person I expected to see, and yet somehow, he’s the only one I need next to me at this moment.
I watch him walking over to me, and without a word he sits on the chair close to me and I can’t move.
He says nothing, doesn’t even look at me, just rests his elbows on his knees and exhales long through his nose, like the weight he carries has settled deep in his chest. Are we both fighting the demons running through us?
His hand gently touches mine not to hold it, just the briefest brush, and my body tingles all over, with the small touch. He nudges me to sit down, and without realizing I do.
“Any news?” His voice is low, rough, but he’s not even looking at me as he asks.
“Nothing.” I whisper. My throat is dry, scratchy. “Not yet.”
He doesn’t nod or sigh or say a single word in return, I didn’t think he would. He just shifts slightly, then pulls something from the inside of his jacket. A small bottle of water then hands it over to me, and I take it.
We sit in silence. No words. No side glances. No anger. No forgiveness. Nothing. It’s crazy, but it’s enough.
Even if it’s just this, him beside me when the rest of my world is upside down, it’s something.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him tapping on his phone. Probably messaging Mason or Cain. Still trying to get my head around the fact they're related. He had a cousin I never knew about.