Then we all raced for the house.
“Hey, guys,” Dad said, opening the front door as we reached the porch.
“What’s going on?” Ani asked frantically as I pushed her into the house.
“Let’s all go into the living room,” Dad replied, his words barely leaving his mouth before Ani was looking at me and then leaving us in the entryway.
“Gimme that baby,” Dad teased, a tired, halfhearted smile on his face.
“No way in hell, old man. I just got her.” I set Arielle’s seat on the ground and pulled her out of it.
I followed him into the living room and stopped dead when I saw my mom’s pale, tear-streaked face. She was holding it together—but barely.
“Alex?” I ground out, swinging my head toward my dad.
“Alex is fine,” he assured me, squeezing my shoulder.
But then he took Arielle carefully from my arms, and I knew we’d lost someone.
“Aunt Ellie and Uncle Mike—” my mom choked out. “They got a visit from the Marines today.”
“Shane?” Ani asked, her eyes panicked.
“Henry,” my dad corrected in a strangled voice.
It took me a second. I couldn’t wrap my mind around what they were saying. I’m not sure if it was shock or if the human brain just takes a minute to process big news, but in the moment that it took for me to understand what they’d just told us, Ani started to go down.
She looked at me as her face went gray, and I barely caught her before she hit the ground.
“What?” she rasped out as I lowered her to the floor, settling her between my knees. “No. I just talked to him two weeks ago. He’s training.”
“Something went wrong,” my mom said, her voice warbling. She raised her hands palm up, like she didn’t understand what was happening, either.
“What?” Ani cried out again. “He was training!”
Mom dropped her face into her hands and began to cry, and everything inside me seized up. It was hard to breathe. Hard to think.
“He was training, Bram. That’s all,” Ani whimpered. Her eyes begged me to make it better.
“Where’s Aunt Ellie and Uncle Mike? Trev?” I asked my dad as he sat down next to Mom and started rubbing her back.
“Mike got Ellie a sedative from her doctor. She’s out for the night,” he said between his teeth. “Trev took off. Not sure where.”
I nodded, tightening my arms around Ani as she began to cry softly.
“Have you—” I cleared my throat, closing my eyes for just a second. Just to get myself under control. “Have you called Alex and Katie?”
“Your aunt and uncle called Katie so they could get a Red Cross message to Shane,” Dad said with a nod. “I was waiting for you to get here before I called Alex.”
Shit. Katie must be going crazy down in San Diego by herself. She and Shane worked like a well-oiled machine at this point, but no one could plan for something like this. It was the worst possible time for Shane to be deployed. I just hoped that the Red Cross did their thing and got him sent home quickly.
Ani’s shoulders hitched as she took a shuddering breath, then she pulled away, climbing to her feet. “You should go call Alex,” she said roughly, wiping at her face. She reached for Arielle, but my mom stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.
“You mind if I hold her for a little bit?” she asked.
“Sure,” Ani said with a small smile, her cheek puckered where I knew she was chewing on the inside of it.
Dad and I left the room and stopped at the kitchen counter.
“Come here, bud,” he ordered gently, pulling me against his chest.
I’d been taller than him since I was fourteen years old, bigger too, but when he wrapped his arms around my back, I felt like the scared nine-year-old I’d been the first time I’d walked into his house. He was the only dad I’d ever known. And as I’d gotten older, the hugs had become squeezes on my shoulder or quick, backslapping embraces.
It had been years since he’d given me a hug like this one.
“It’s all right, boy,” he murmured as I shuddered. “It’s gonna be all right.”
Henry had been with Ellie and Mike for as long as I’d lived with Dan and Liz. We’d joined the family in the same year, and even though he was five years younger and had been a total pain in the ass when we were kids, I’d always loved him. He’d seemed so fragile at first, a four-year-old with blue eyes that looked too big for his face and white-blond hair that was always sticking straight up in the front.
Trevor, Katie, Alex, and I had watched out for the little joker. Taking the fall for him more often than not when he’d do stupid shit and get hurt, and we’d be blamed for not watching him. He was our little mascot. Our motion-sick-prone little tagalong.