“Oh, we really do,” Mandy says.
I snicker as I roll my eyes. “Too
bad. I’m not in the mood to be gossip fodder.”
“We are your brothers, you know. It’s kind of our job to worry.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Get to work already.” I make a shooing gesture with my hand.
“I know when I’m not wanted. I’m going to round up brunchers,” Casp says as he undoes his apron and heads outside. My brother was born with the gift of gab. I have no doubt he’ll wrestle up patrons.
My phone buzzes again.
“Are you serious? Dude, let me see this phenomenon. Maybe Smoke needs to get a mascot,” Ellis says.
I dig my phone out and hand it to him.
His expression turns to one of concern. “Xi, you have like thirty missed calls.”
“What?” I snatch the phone and rifle through the call log. “Weird, they’re all the same number. Who has a six, five, zero area code?” Memory sparks. San Mateo. My stomach plummets. “I have to take this. Something’s wrong.”
“Go ahead.”
I walk away from the prep station and out of the truck. My stomach churns as I listen to the first voice mail.
“Hi, Xia. You don’t know me, but my name is Joel, and I’m Shayne’s older brother. I got a call from a hospital. He has a nasty concussion and needs someone to pick him up and monitor him. I’m two and a half hours away on a low traffic day, and I don’t want him waiting for me. Please call me as soon as you get this.” My ability to focus waivers as I hear the words Shayne and hospital. My knees weaken, and I sway slightly. The thought of that blazing bright light snuffed makes me sick. Life without him is unthinkable. Oh, God. I love him. My mind is filled with all the things I didn’t say because I was cautious.
My hand shakes as I press call return.
“Hello?” A deep voice says.
“Joel?”
“Xia.”
“Yes, what happened?” I pace the length of the sidewalk.
“I’m not sure about the exact details, but I think he got into an altercation at a bar.”
“Shayne?” I say, stunned.
“Wrong place, wrong time type of scenario I’m sure.”
“Has to be. Jesus. Where is he?” I ask. My heart races and my anxiety rises.
“He’s at Good Samaritan.”
“I’ll leave now,” I whisper, numb.
Disconnecting, I jog back to the truck. “I have to go. Shayne is in the hospital.”
“What happened? Is he okay?” The questions are thrown at me.
“I don’t know. His brother just called me. He’s two hours away and doesn’t want Shayne sitting there by himself. He has a bad concussion.”
“Did he lay his bike down?” Ellis asks.
“I don’t think so. I’m sorry to bail, but—”