Locked In Silence (Pelican Bay 1)

I let Dallas pull me to my feet a few minutes later and lead me to the shower. After a particularly long time under the spray of hot water, we slowly jerked each other off, then rinsed one last time before getting back into bed. My interest in reading gone, I dozed on his chest while he watched TV. I was out before he turned the lights off.

I didn’t wake again until early the next morning when my phone rang about half an hour before the alarm was set to go off. I fumbled for the phone, hoping I could silence it before it woke Dallas, but he shifted behind me and flipped on the lights right before my hand closed around it.

“Sorry,” I said to him over my shoulder.

He flopped down behind me and wrapped an arm around my waist. I smiled at the possessive gesture and glanced at the phone, expecting it to be a wrong number.

It wasn’t.

“Mom?” I said softly.

“Nolan, honey, is that you?” she asked.

I went on immediate alert because I could hear the tears in her voice. I sat up and was dimly aware of Dallas sitting up behind me.

“Mom, what’s wrong?”

There was a beat of silence before she said, “Nolan, can you come home, please? Your father…your father, he’s not waking up.”

Chapter Sixteen

Dallas

I glanced at my watch for the umpteenth time as I straightened my tie. I hated how it felt around my neck, especially since my throat felt like a constant raw, exposed nerve and my breathing had gotten even worse over the past week. Fortunately, I wasn’t in any danger yet, but I suspected I’d be under the surgeon’s knife within a matter of weeks. Nolan had forced me to keep the consultation that was scheduled for a couple of days from now and continued to insist he’d be coming with me, despite my repeated attempts to tell him that his mother needed him.

The past week had been extremely hard on Nolan.

By the time we’d arrived at Nolan’s house the morning his mother had called, the paramedics that Nolan had phoned right after he’d hung up with his mother had already arrived. They’d been waiting outside the house, and when Nolan had asked them why they weren’t inside, they’d gently explained to him that they’d already examined his father and that he’d been gone for a while. They’d gone on to tell him that his mother had asked them to leave when they’d tried to cover Nolan’s father with a sheet and remove him from the home.

We’d found Nolan’s mother in her bedroom sitting on the bed next to her husband. She’d somehow managed to get him dressed in a nice pair of slacks and dress shirt and she’d been lovingly brushing his hair.

Nolan had stood frozen in the doorway for a good minute, his hand clutching mine. He’d forced himself to move into the room and go to his mother. I’d been able to tell that the sight of his father’s lifeless body had been doing a number on him, but he’d managed to keep it together so he could focus on his mother. When he’d asked her what she was doing, she’d calmly explained that his father would want to look his best. Nolan had tried to get her to leave the room with him so the paramedics could attend to the body, but Nolan’s mother had been insistent that his father needed his jacket. Nolan had been too immobilized with shock to help his mother work the jacket onto his father, so I’d taken over the task. I hadn’t been sure if Nolan’s mother had recognized me or not, but if she had, she hadn’t said anything. She’d simply thanked me and then told Nolan she was ready to go.

We’d gone to the hospital so that Nolan and his mother could deal with everything that came with losing a loved one, including providing instructions on what to do with his body. The doctors had suggested that it had likely been a massive stroke that had killed Nolan’s father. There’d been a small measure of comfort in knowing the man had passed quickly in his sleep.

By the time we’d gotten back to the house, Nolan and his mother had both been exhausted. Nolan’s mother had tried to start cooking dinner, but Nolan had managed to get her to lie down in the guest room. I’d ushered Nolan into his bedroom to get some rest, but as soon as I’d laid down next to him and pulled him into my arms, the doorbell had started ringing.

It had gone on for hours.

The people stopping by to offer their condolences.

The food had started piling up, too.

As had the curious looks when people had seen my truck out front or when I’d answered the door myself. If the situation hadn’t been so heartbreaking, I would have been amused by the looks I’d gotten. Everything from shock to disapproval.