CHAPTER TWO #2
The car swerves to a stop by the hospital entrance, and I jump out.
Police try to contain the gathering crowd of fans and reporters, but it’s total mayhem.
My only aim is to charge through to reach my best friend as soon as possible.
I'm panting like a man three times my age, while my head is a mess with different scenarios. When I burst through the entrance doors, my vision is shot as I try to focus on the activity and blurry signs above my head. I’m so fucking struck with panic I get confused about which way to turn.
“Tommy,” a familiar voice calls, and someone grabs my arm.
“Bernie, thank fuck.”
“Come this way.” He leads me while looking back. “Jesus, Tommy. Are you all right?”
“Just freaking out a little. How is he, Bern?”
Bernie’s pace turns to a slow step, and I note him assessing the multiple eyes now watching us. He seems on edge too. This isn’t good. “The family room is up here. We can talk better once inside.”
The windowless, stark space is quiet, clinical, and eerie. This room should be a warm and comforting place, but it isn't. The sterile smell burns my throat and adds to the clinical, chilly atmosphere.
Blank faces stare at me, but I register one clearly as I enter. “Angie.”
She’s sobbing and being held by someone, but it’s not Scott. Where the fuck is he? His wife is clearly falling apart. But why? Fuck. Please, God, let Ash be okay. I step towards Angie, but Ash’s mum appears in front of me from a small huddle of bodies with tears streaming down her face.
“Tommy, love,” she says as we hug.
“Tell me it isn’t Ash.”
“What?” she asks against my chest in a hushed voice. She steps back, looking towards Bernie with confusion, then to me.
“Max called. He said there’d been a fatality.”
“He's alive, Tommy. Don't worry. He's bruised, battered, and his leg is in plaster, but he’s conscious and doing well.” She glances at Bernie for a second time, but now she’s angry. “Why didn't you tell him? Can’t you see how worried he is? Just look at the state of him.”
Bernie winces. “I didn’t want to chance any reporters lurking for news, Liz. I’m sorry, but I thought he should be in this room as soon as possible, where we can talk freely.”
“Thank fuck,” I say, maybe a little too loudly. “Then what’s with the mood in this place? This is good news, right?”
Mrs C takes my arm, leading me further away from the others. “Tommy, love. I need to talk to you.”
“Oh, fuck. Not Calla or Zoe. Please—”
“They were nowhere near the accident, Tom. My sister Gemma is watching Zoe now and Calla is with Ash, which is why she isn’t here, but I promise they’re both fine.”
“Then everyone is okay, yeah? Panic over.” I chew my bottom lip. “Ash has a lot of healing to do, but he’s doing good, isn’t he? Do you think he wants me to take care of Cal? Make sure she’s all right? I can be around until he gets back on his feet. Whatever he needs.”
“They will probably need all the help they can get, but we can talk about that later.”
“Yeah, of course. My head is all over the place.” I run my hand across my brow, a sense of relief and fear running simultaneously through me.
“The thing is, Tom—” Mrs C stops abruptly as the door swings open.
Calla’s red, blotchy eyes scan the room and Angie steps away from the person holding her up.
Calla’s sobbing body falls into her arms, and I expect Angie to calm her down; to tell her to be happy.
Ash’s injuries aren’t life-threatening and everyone can relax.
Except something weird is going on. The atmosphere isn’t one of relief.
Angie’s body language isn’t comforting or warm, just stiff.
Her hands are shaking and her pale skin is drawn as if she’s seen a ghost. What’s wrong with her?
Angie’s tears silently stream down her face while I catch snippets of the words Mrs C is saying to me.
“They did everything possible... too far gone... didn’t make it.”
Fuck.
“Tommy, did you hear what I said?” Fresh tears form in Mrs C’s eyes. “Scott didn’t make it, Tommy. They couldn’t save him.”
I glance back to where Calla sobs while my brain tries to digest the situation.
“Scott was with Ash?”
She nods, biting her bottom lip.
“He’s dead?”
She nods again, frantically this time.
I realise something as I glance over at Calla. She isn’t crying for her husband and it isn’t Angie holding Calla together. It’s the other way around. Jesus Christ, I have absolutely no fucking clue what to do here.
Bile rises to my throat while guilt fills my gut. I was so relieved to find out Ash and his family were okay that I didn't think to ask if anyone else was involved.
“Are you all right, love?” Mrs C asks, but I don't know what to do. I hug her for a second while I try to digest this news and take in Angie’s vacant stares.
What the hell is going through her mind?
What can I do to take away her pain? Would she even want me to?
Her grief is raw and any show of sympathy could be a wrong move on my part.
“Tommy?” Mrs C is still waiting for her answer.
I look down. “Sorry. Yeah, I’m okay.” I’m not. I feel sick to my stomach. “What happened? Does anyone know?”
She nods, and her voice lowers in volume.
“Scott was taking the family to the airport later today, so the boys decided they could fit in a run at five a.m. before they left. Ash said it was pitch black when a car came around the corner with no warning and full headlights. He knocked Ash clear, but when the car launched into the ditch, Scott was underneath.” Mrs C weeps. “He didn’t stand a chance.”
“Fuck.” My hands swipe through my hair. “Did they catch the driver?”
She shakes her head. “They didn’t need to. He was already dead at the scene.”
My head drops. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
Mrs C lays a hand on my arm. “Ash will need you now more than ever.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “He’ll appreciate that. Maybe you could see him in a little while, when you’ve got your thoughts together.”
I nod but don’t say another word as Mrs C steps back. She turns toward Calla and Angie, trying to comfort them both.
As the news sinks in, an odd sensation swirls in my gut. Jesus, why do bad things happen to good people? I don't understand. Scott was one of the best. We weren’t close for obvious reasons, but I respected him.
The first time we met after he got together with Angie, he told me he knew all about our relationship. Angie had told him everything. I asked him if he wanted to punch my lights out and he almost knocked me off my feet when he started laughing.
“Punch you? Are you joking? More like thank you. I'm the winner in all this, Tommy, so why would I want to hurt you? Think about it. I'm the guy who got the girl, and if you hadn’t chosen a life on the road instead of her, I doubt she would have looked at me twice. Shall I kiss you now?”
Although he was joking, his words stung a little. I was well aware of what I’d lost and knew I wasn’t worthy of Angie, but Scott was.
That guy was the best of everything. Best friend to Ash, best brother to Calla, best uncle to Zoe, and the best husband to Angie. How the hell do you get your head around losing someone so incredible?
Should I say something? Tell Angie I’m sorry?
Or is it too early? Then I freeze on the spot as my thoughts catch up with me.
Angie is pregnant. Fuck. The father of her unborn child is gone.
She has so much to face alone. How will she cope without him?
Too much information swims around my head. Too many worries.
I stand and stare at the huddle of women in front of me. My head spins and my stomach rolls.
I make eye contact with Angie. My body is filled with dread as I take a few steps in her direction. She surprises me, separating herself from the group and falling into my embrace. Our connection is instant and natural. She’s my friend, and I want to help her in any way possible.
“I'm so sorry, babe.” I cup her head, guiding her to my chest as she releases a sob. With each passing second, her pain grows louder, and I do my best to comfort her the only way I know how. Smoothing down her hair, I hold her to me as tight as I can.
Calla steps towards us, probably sensing my uncertainty, and rubs my arm. Thick tears swell in her eyes as she mouths, “Thank you.”
Another piece of this horrific fucking puzzle clicks into place.
Calla lost her brother. How can life be this cruel?
I bring her to my other side and grasp both girls close, remembering the man who had so much more to throw at life.
I've never felt so fucking useless but, for their sake, I have to be strong.
Standing outside Ash’s private room, I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and muster up my mental strength before I knock. There’s no answer, but the nurse warned me he might drift in and out of consciousness because he’s heavily sedated.
I poke my head around the door before I enter to find him staring into space.
I bite my lip and swallow down the pain in my throat as each injury and bruise across his body registers in my head.
His eyes follow me across the room as I take a seat beside him.
“How are you, man?” I take a moment; the silence hanging between us. “Look, if I can do anything to help—”
“Thanks, but unless you can bring him back, there’s nothing you can do.”
Fuck. His hurt is unbearable to witness. “You know I’d take that pain away if I could.”
He sighs. “I’m sorry. That was a shitty thing for me to say.”
“It’s understandable.” Another moment of silence follows. There’s never been a time when we had nothing to say, but this is different. Ash is grieving.
“Why did we go running? Why did I agree to it?”
“Don’t blame yourself, Ash. It won’t do you any good.”
“I can’t help it.”
“Scott wouldn’t blame you. He went out running every morning, so it doesn’t matter if you were there or not. It doesn’t change anything. This isn’t down to you.” His eyes meet mine, but he doesn’t respond. “How’s Cal doing?” I ask.
“Not so good.” He rubs his hand down his face. “Can you do me a favour?”
“Anything. Name it.”
“Could you be around for her? She’s so conflicted. One minute she’s kissing my face and thanking God I’m still here, then the next, she’s crying for Scott. She needs to look after herself and our babies.”
“You know I’m here. For both of you.”
Ash attempts to reach for the table, but he winces while lifting his arm.
“What do you need?”
“Can you get me some water? My mouth is dry.”
“Sure.” I lift his head a little, bringing the small glass to his mouth, and he winces again. “Do you need more painkillers?”
He shakes his head as it rests against the pillow. “Shit, no. I’m already drugged up to the eyeballs. Those things knock me out, but what I really want is to know what’s going on. My girls need me.”
“Don't worry. I’ve got them, whatever they need.”
His eyelids flutter as he fights to keep awake. “What about Angie? She needs you too.”
My stomach twists at the mention of her name and what she’s lost. “You really think she wants me around?”
“She needs as many friends as possible.” His weary eyes try to focus and his voice weakens.
“Scott would want us to take care of her. You and me.” His eyes are shut by the time his last word leaves his mouth and he finally gives in to overwhelming tiredness.
While he drifts off to sleep, I’m left to wonder if he’s right about Angie.
I’m not so sure she would want me around at all.