Down & Dirty (Lightning 1)

I park close to Emerson’s car—the one that hasn’t moved in the week I’ve known her—then climb out. Tanner’s already here, leaning against his car door as he plays on his phone.

He nods to me as I walk by, reaches out and gives me a solid pat to the shoulder. He doesn’t say anything, though, and I can’t help wondering if it’s because there’s nothing to say or if it’s because I look so bad he’s afraid of sending me over the edge.

Fuck. It’s probably a little bit of both.

I take the stairs three at a time—as much as I’m dreading the next few minutes, I want them over with, too.

Emerson must have been watching for me, because the door opens seconds before I raise my hand to knock. She takes one look at my face and then does the opposite of Tanner. She wraps her arms around me and pulls me close. And even though her head doesn’t even make it to my shoulder, somehow she grounds me.

Helps me breathe.

“Are you okay?” she asks, holding tight until I’m the one forced to finally pull away. “How can I help?”

I don’t know what to say. How can I when there are so many answers to that question, but no good answer? In the end, I just kind of nod and shrug. It must not be enough to reassure Emerson, though, because she pulls me close again. Then laces her hands behind my head and pulls my face down to hers.

“What do you need?” she asks, and though I haven’t told her the whole story yet, something tells me that she knows anyway. Brent and Lucy must have said something.

“I need—” I feel myself start to break and I push it back, shore myself up. Behind her, Lucy and Brent are staring at me, their eyes wide and scared. No, now isn’t the time for this. “I need to get the kids and get out of your hair. You need to get to work.”

“It can wait,” she says, even though I know it can’t. And that just breaks me a little more, makes it a little harder to keep the rage and pain inside. Fuck, I need to get out of here.

“Get your backpacks,” I say to my niece and nephew. “Uncle Tanner’s waiting downstairs.”

Usually the mention of Tanner is enough to have them whooping with joy, but this morning they just turn away to do what I ask.

“Actually, I do need you to do something for me,” I say, taking Emerson’s hand and pressing the keys to my truck into them. “I know your car’s broken down and it would make things a lot easier for me if I didn’t have to worry about how you’re getting to and from work. Take my truck, please—”

She tries to pull her hand away. “I—”

“It’s just a loan,” I tell her. “Not forever. Just until your car’s fixed. I don’t like the idea of you being stuck somewhere because you can’t get the bus or an Uber.”

“I’m fine,” she says, her voice a little shaky and panicked. “I don’t need—”

“I know you don’t. But I need. So please, take the truck. Just for now.”

She looks like she’s going to argue more, so I do the only thing I can do. I cup her face in my hands and then press my lips to hers.

It’s different than any other kiss we’ve ever had. Softer, slower…sweeter. The heat is still there, but it’s less important than the gentleness and the comfort. Less important than the connection that stretches between us.

When I finally lift my head, she’s clinging to me—holding on as if I’m the one supporting her. But I know that she’s doing it for me, that she’s giving me the only thing I’m comfortable taking from her at this moment, in the only way I’m willing to take it.

It works, too, because after another quick kiss, I find the strength to step away and reach for Lucy and Brent instead. They come quickly, fitting themselves to my sides, and I can see in their faces the same fear I see deep inside myself.

I want to tell them that it’s going to be okay, that their mother has just had a setback. But Dr. Janewicz’s words are raw in my head, as are the words of the doctor who handled Heather’s case in the middle of the night when she had the second stroke.

And so I just hug them tight and say, “Let’s go see your mom, okay?”

They nod, but the serious looks on their faces don’t change. They know. I don’t know how they know, but they do. It breaks my heart a little more.

Emerson follows us down to the parking lot, waving at Tanner as I get the kids situated in his backseat. I think I should probably go back over to her, probably say something else, but the truth is I’m exhausted. Just completely worn out and I haven’t even started talking to the kids yet.

And so I yell across the parking lot instead. “I’ll call you later.”

“Don’t worry about me right now. Text me if you need me for anything.”

I nod, then climb into the car and take a deep breath. Then do my damnedest to find the right words to tell Lucy and Brent that their mother will probably never come home again.

Chapter 26