The rest of the night was a blur.
Lexi and I visited Mom to say goodbye. The doctor had been right—she didn’t look like herself at all. She didn’t even look like a real person, to be honest. They’d brought us into the trauma room, where she was still laying on the table. Someone had covered her with a sheet, tucking it gently under her chin.
There was still a tube in her mouth and her skin was all wrong. Waxy. Like one of those creepy figures in a museum.
At first I was sort of scared to touch her. This was the same woman who’d given me my emerald necklace just hours ago, who’d hugged me and told me how beautiful I was. Now the only thing left was a shell. It was weird. Awkward. I felt like I should say something to her, but I had no idea what.
“Do you think I could hold her hand for a minute?” Lexi asked after a long silence.
“Sure,” I said, looking at the sheet that covered everything but her head. Taking a deep breath, I reached down and lifted the edge gently, finding her fingers.
They were cool to the touch, and I realized they’d never be warm again. Lexi covered my hand with hers, and we stood there, neither of us quite knowing what to do. Finally the nurse knocked at the door, checking on us.
She probably had to take away the body.
That’s when it hit me—this thing on the table wasn’t my mom. My mother could be crazy and horrible, full of laughter and drunken belligerence, but she was never, ever cold and quiet. I leaned forward, kissing her on the forehead, and I finally knew what to say.
“I wish we’d had more time together,” I whispered, not wanting Lexi to hear. “Don’t forget me, okay? Keep an eye on me, because I’m gonna need all the help I can get.”
Closing my eyes, I waited to feel something. Some kind of reassurance that she’d heard me, that she’d be my guardian angel. But there was nothing.
She was just dead.
I still don’t remember how we got back out to the waiting room. We found Tinker there, along with her husband, Gage. Rome, too. They were playing some sort of card game with Kayden. He was clutching a can of root beer, and there were empty Snickers wrappers on the floor.
Somehow, I found a way to tell him that our mother was dead, although I don’t remember the words I used. I do remember the confusion on his face, and promising him that we’d all stay together, no matter what. Afterward, Rome took my keys and walked us out to my car. Part of me wondered why he hadn’t gone back to work, but I wasn’t curious enough to ask him.
Curiosity was a feeling, and I couldn’t afford to feel things right now.
He drove us straight to Tinker’s house—apparently she’d decided we should stay with her while we figured things out.
This was a good idea. I wasn’t ready to face the empty apartment.
I had suspected that trying to save someone’s life could get messy, and the thought of cleaning up whatever might be in there scared the hell out of me. Not to mention all the blood I’d tracked in myself. I still hadn’t had the time—or the nerve—to check how bad my feet were. I’d just stuffed them into socks and shoes, then headed for the hospital. It seemed to be working for now, so maybe I’d just sleep that way.
When in doubt, denial was always a comforting choice.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t deny the fact that I needed to call my brothers and tell them. Kayden had fallen asleep on the way back to Hallies Falls, so he’d been easy enough to settle. Now Tinker was fussing around with Lexi, finding her a place to sleep and plying her with chamomile tea.
That left me fresh out of excuses not to call my brothers. I went out onto the front porch, a place I’d always loved back when I still worked for Tinker. Taking a deep breath, I sat down on the steps, pulled out my phone, and called Aiden.
Telling him was awful.
Telling Isaac was even worse.
Once I finished, I sat there, looking at the ground and wondering what the hell to do next. It just seemed so wrong, and so unfair. She was only forty-five years old. And yeah, she’d been a shitty mom most of the time, but she was still my mom. I loved her.
After a while, Rome came out and sat down next to me. Neither of us spoke, although I kept thinking about the way he’d looked at me when they rolled her out. Sad, like he’d already known my life would be changing forever.
“The doctor said her heart failed in the ambulance,” I finally said, trying to piece it together. “Did you know she was dead when you met us?”
“We should talk tomorrow,” he replied. He sounded tired—totally understandable—but I didn’t like how he’d dodged the question. The numbness started to crack again, and I felt the first hints of something. Frustration.
“Why can’t we talk about it now?” I asked, turning on him.
“Because you’re exhausted and you’ve had a huge shock,” he said, trying to wrap his arm around me. I shrugged him off, annoyed.
“You should answer the question,” I snapped. “I’m not Kayden. You can’t just shut me up by giving me candy, Rome. I want to know what happened in that ambulance.”
“No,” he said again, and his voice was firm. “You need to sleep, Randi. I’ll answer every question you have tomorrow, but you’ve been through enough tonight. Go inside and get some rest.”
Now I was more than frustrated—Rome was hiding something, and it was starting to really piss me off. The anger felt good. Clarifying. My brain was starting to wake back up again, and it wasn’t a happy camper. “Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do? You aren’t a part of this family—you’re just some guy I banged in a barn. You aren’t entitled to an opinion.”
Rome just looked at me, then nodded.
“You’re right,” he admitted. “I’m just some guy you banged in a barn. But I’m also a guy who’s been through this before, which means I know that you need some rest or you’re not going to make it through tomorrow. Tinker has a bed and a sleeping pill waiting for you inside. You should use them.”
My eyes narrowed. His words made sense, and I could even see that he was trying to take care of me. Somehow that made it even worse. Rome stood up, like we’d finished the conversation.
“I got someone to take the rest of my shift, but I’ll have to go pick up my truck tomorrow,” he said. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to drive your car back to my place. I need some sleep. I can bring it back in the morning.”
“No,” I said, the tide of anger rising. First he wouldn’t answer my questions about my mom, and now he was trying to take away my car? “Absolutely not. Fuck you, Rome. Give me the keys.”
Rome looked at me for a minute, then shook his head.
“I’m too tired to walk home,” he said, his voice blunt. “And now I’m stuck here because I drove your car for you. Call the cops and report it missing if you want. Otherwise I’ll bring it back in the morning. I’ll even come help clean up your apartment if you’d like. But tonight, I’m taking the car home and going to bed.”
With that, he started walking across the lawn toward my little Hyundai, and I realized he was serious. Rome McGuire was about to steal my car.
Oh, no. No fucking way.
I ran after him, catching his arm. This was about as useful as a gnat attacking a bear, and all the anger that’d been building exploded. My mom was dead, and I still didn’t understand how it’d happened. Rome knew, but he said I needed to sleep. Bullshit. Going to bed wouldn’t answer my questions, and it sure as shit wouldn’t bring her back to life.
Fuck him. Fuck him and the doctor and all of them. She’d been alive when he put her in that ambulance, and now she wasn’t.
He reached the car ahead of me, clicking the fob to unlock the doors. I grabbed the passenger side handle and climbed in, because he wasn’t going to win. I couldn’t bring Mom back, but I’d be damned if I’d let him take my car.
“You should go back inside, Randi.”
“Fuck off, Rome. It’s mine, and you aren’t taking it.”
Rome studied me, almost like I was being unreasonable or something. I could practically hear his mental debate. Should I grab her and carry her back into the house? I narrowed my eyes, daring him to do it. He might be bigger than me, but I’d kick and scream the whole time. Wake up the entire goddamned neighborhood, maybe bite him, too.
Then he’d learn what happened to car thieves.
“Okay,” he said finally, gripping the tiny steering wheel, and I realized that for a man his size, this was practically a clown car. If he wasn’t being such a giant douche, I might’ve found it funny. “You win. You can ride with me back to my place.”
“And then you’ll give me the keys?”
“Yup,” he agreed. “I’ll give you the keys. I promise.”