Chapter Thirty-Four
Renegade
I grip Whitney’s hand as we drive silently to the hospital.
I don’t think I’ve ever had a more somber ride in my life.
If this was under a different set of circumstances, I would make a joke about their mom sitting in the back of the police car.
Today though, that joke isn’t there. She’s quietly crying into a napkin, her phone shaking as she texts her husband updates.
“Will he meet us there, Mona?” I finally find my voice, still shocked at how raw it sounds.
She nods, tears spilling down her face. “He’s gettin’ someone to drive him.
I think he’s more shook up than he was letting on when I called him.
He’ll probably be about thirty minutes behind us, because they were out towards the gulf.
Knowin’ him though, he’ll make them speed and pay for the ticket if they get pulled over.
“He’s gonna be okay, right?” Whitney asks from beside me.
I’m not sure who she’s asking, not sure any of us truly know the answer to the question.
It’s a hard one. I saw him, saw how he was gasping for breath, how hard it was for him to make his lungs work.
The tips of my fingers felt the weakness of his pulse, and try as I might, I can’t get rid of the picture I now have in my head.
Trevor pale white with blood dotting his face. None of us know the answer.
“I don’t know, Princess,” I bring her hand up to my lips in a show of affection I normally don’t allow her family to see.
We’ve been closed off when they’ve been around, almost scared to show them how into one another we are.
Today, I think I need the affection more than her.
I could purr when she flips her palm over and cups the side of my jaw, rubbing against the growth of stubble.
Was it seriously only a few hours ago she was telling me not to shave?
It seems a lifetime ago. I feel like I’ve aged a thousand years since this morning.
“This is where we’ve got to give it over to God, Whitney,” her mom says from the backseat and I get mysteriously angry.
My jaw clenches and I grit my teeth. There’s a part of me that wants to ask what God has to do with all of this.
If God were the type of person to care, he would have put Brooks in the back of that ambulance.
Trevor is a good man, a great friend, and an amazing human being.
He served his country with honor, and he’s done things asked of him that no other person probably would have done.
For him to end up on the side of the road broken the way he did, at one of his favorite spots, is a travesty, and fuck it all if I’m not angry.
I want to shout and rage, scream at the injustice of it all.
I can’t understand why the fuck Brooks walked away from the wreck and Trevor rode away in an ambulance.
How does any of that make sense? Trevor wasn’t breaking the law, he wasn’t running from responsibility. He was enjoying his damn day off.
“I’ll try, Mama,” she answers softly, but we share a look, and in that moment I know she feels the same way I do.
The silence blankets us again and I do my best to focus on the hand holding mine.
My mind zeroes in on the way Whitney’s fingers caress my palm.
It’s a slow glide of her fingernail against my flesh, but it gives me something to think about.
It’s a center that allows me to block out all the noise I’ve been hearing since we came upon the wreck.
There’s a ringing in my ears and it only gets louder the more I try to drown it out. Her soft touch is the only thing making it go away, the only thing keeping me sane right now. I focus on it instead. The one bright spot of my day – hell, she’s my bright spot of every day.
The drive to Birmingham feels like it takes days, but finally I see the exit for the hospital. I won’t lie, when they mentioned taking Trevor to the nearest trauma unit, I about lost it. That has serious repercussions. To be airlifted to a trauma center tells me things are bad.
As we pull into the parking structure, all of us gasp at the amount of police cars already parked there. One of the guys from Laurel Springs is directing traffic, and once he sees us, he directs us to a spot close to the elevator on the bottom floor.
As we get out, he jogs over to Mona and takes off his hat. “We’re thinking about you, Mrs. Trumbolt. Anything you need, you let us know.”
She doesn’t answer, but she grabs his hand and holds on tight. Overcome with emotion, she nods as Whitney puts her arm around her mom.
“C’mon, Mama, let’s go find out what’s going on.”
“What floor do we need to go to?” I ask him.
“Eighth, that’s where Holden’s directed everybody so far.”
We make our way to the elevator as fast as Whitney allows us to. She’s being a trooper, walking as quickly as she can. I have my arm around her, holding her up as we move closer. Just as we’re about to enter the sliding doors, I hear a loud voice.
“Mona! Whitney!”
Mona lets out a wail as she sees her husband.
Stanley Trumbolt has always been a larger than life man, but he looks like the world has beat him down today.
I don’t think in all my years that I’ve known the family he’s ever looked so scared.
I’m reminded of the last time I saw him.
It was just a few weeks ago when we cleaned Whitney’s gutters and did her yard.
Damn, was it really only a few weeks? It seems like a lifetime right now.
As he reaches Mona, she falls into his arms, finally letting go of the sobs go she’s held back this entire time.
Stanley and I lock eyes and judging by the look in his, I know they need a minute. “Y’all come on up when you’re ready. I got Whitney.”
We quietly enter the elevator and when the doors close, she collapses against me. The fight’s gone from her. I feel the wetness against my neck, where she’s buried her head.
“I know, Whit, I know,” I soothe her, running my hands up and down her back. “Let it out, it’s a shock. Let it out before we get up there.”
“I don’t know if I can put it back in,” she breathes heavily, wiping at her eyes as she moves away.
“He’s always been my baby, ya know? I was ten when he was born, I drug him around like he was my real-life baby doll.
Dressed him up and made him do things that most boys would have beat me up for.
Damn, Ryan, he’s gotta make it through this. ”
I clear my throat roughly against the way it closes. “I know, and he’s going to. We have to believe that.”
But I’m not sure if I can let myself just yet.
Once we’re on the floor, I see a ton of county, city, and state personnel.
Other county departments have shown up and most everyone knows who we are, so they make room and point us in the right direction.
I can’t let go of Whitney’s hand as we thread our way through the crowd, everyone motioning us to a waiting area off to the side.
When we get there, I see the members of the team, standing around, and Blaze sitting on the couch, her arms folded against her stomach.
“What do we know?” I announce our presence. “Mona and Stanley need a minute before they come up, we’ll brief them when they get here.”
Holden directs a glance at Blaze. “Layman’s terms, just like you did for us.”
She takes what looks like a fortifying breath. “Broken leg, sprained wrist, multiple cuts and bruises, concussion, and what they believe is a collapsed lung. He’s in surgery right now for the leg and lung.”
That’s more than I was prepared for. “Son of a bitch. What about Brooks?”
“Treated and released into custody. Already lawyered the fuck up, but he will be held, since we aren’t sure of Tank’s outcome yet,” Holden speaks quietly.
The implication hangs in the air. He might not make it out of this. “Have they given a prognosis?”
Blaze speaks up again. “There’s internal bleeding from somewhere, possibly the spleen. The surgeon didn’t want to give us false hope.”
Whitney lets go of my hand and walks over to the other woman.
“I know they call you Blaze, but I also know that’s not your real name.
Trevor’s talked to me about you before. He wouldn’t want you sitting here all by yourself.
I don’t know about you but I need a decaf coffee, since that’s all I’m allowed.
Why don’t you come with me and get away from all this testosterone for a while. ”
I watch as Blaze looks up at Whitney, surprise written across her face. Hell, we’re surprised, none of us knew that Blaze wasn’t her real name.
“I’d like that,” she smiles. It’s small, but it’s a smile.
“C’mon, let’s go.”
Whitney leans in, kissing my cheek. “If there’s news, call me.”
I watch as they leave, surprised by the turn of events.
“I’ll be damned,” Holden lets out a whistle from where he stands.
I have to agree. Nothing ever ceases to amaze me.