Bray
“YOU HEAR FROM Scarlet’s boss?” Brent asked me.
I shook my head as I stood with my hands buried in the front pockets of my jeans. Dallas had been in surgery for over six hours now. All we knew was there had been no internal bleeding. Ethel hadn’t responded about Scarlet and when I called again, the woman that answered hung up on me before I could get a complete sentence out. She’d simply said “We’re busy.”
“Lunch hour just ended. She was probably busy. Must not have been an emergency. Give it a few. I’m sure she’ll call.” Brent’s attempt at trying to comfort me would have been nice if I wasn’t a fucking ball of nerves.
Scarlet wasn’t answering her phone. My brother was in surgery fighting for his life because of a fucking wild mustang I told him to stay off of and I couldn’t be at two places at once. How did I leave here until I knew how Dallas was? I didn’t know if anything was wrong with Scarlet. She hadn’t replied or called. Hell, she could be angry I ran off. None of those things warranted me leaving the hospital when my family stood waiting for word on Dallas.
“Yeah,” I finally muttered. I didn’t believe that. Ethel should have called by now. There was something going on. Something no one was fucking telling me.
We stood in silence. I watched as Steel paced over by the window I had stood at earlier. Momma sat in her seat with her head down and lips moving in silent prayer. Asher stood off in a corner talking to Dixie in a whisper. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying, but in front of us she tried to appear strong.
I took my phone out to check it one more time. Nothing. Not a text. Not a call. Nothing.
I bit back the curse I wanted to yell in frustration. I needed to know Scarlet was safe. I should have fucking calmed down and thought things through this morning. That note wasn’t enough. I’d been so damn worked up and terrified that I had ran. My one thought being I had to see him. I didn’t want to lose my brother and I sure didn’t want to lose him without seeing him one more time. To say the shit, I should have said to him when I had the chance.
The doctor walked into the waiting room as I fought to control my train wreck of emotions and nothing else mattered at the moment. We all stilled. No one spoke. Afraid to say anything, we waited. Prayed. Stopped breathing. Anything to save Dallas. The next words spoken we knew would be the most powerful we had heard since our father was killed.
“He came through,” the doctor said. But that wasn’t enough. We all remained in our spots. Waiting for more. Did that mean he was going to live? Did that mean he was still in critical condition? We needed more details.
“Dallas has suffered a fractured skull. It’s not the worst I’ve seen but it’s not anything to brush off either. He is in a medically-induced coma and will be for a few hours up to a couple of days. The brain is adjusting. Healing. He won’t, however, stay like this.”
My chest eased. Oxygen began to flow easier. We still waited for the full picture.
“Dallas will suffer from monoplegia. Not because of a spine injury, but because of the brain injury. Although he will be sore and he is bruised it wasn’t a spine issue.”
“So he won’t be paralyzed?” Asher asked with the hope we all held but were too frightened to ask.
“Monoplegia is paralysis.”
Those three words took the wind from us all. Not a sound. Silence. Dallas would never accept a life where he was paralyzed. Bending at the waist I put my hands on my thighs and breathed deep. He was alive. I had to focus on that.
“Monoplegia is a paralysis of a limb. From what we saw before surgery Dallas couldn’t move is legs. This may be temporary. It is very common with a brain injury and with physical therapy many people regain the use of the limbs or at least a great deal of use. If not all.”
No one said a word. We stood there taking it in. Trying to imagine a world where our charismatic, pretty boy baby brother was paralyzed. It seemed impossible. Like a bad dream.
“Is he going to live?” Momma asked.
The doctor nodded. “Dallas is no longer in danger. He will recover, and yes, Mrs. Sutton. Your son will live.”
At those words Momma let out a cry and clung to Asher who was standing beside her. The doctor looked to Asher who nodded. “Thank you. For saving Dallas,” he said. We all wanted to say it but only Asher had the strength.
The doctor smiled. “That kid is a fighter. I don’t think he ever considered dying. I’ve never seen someone fight that hard to live.”
Momma cried harder and Steel came up on the other side of her and held her there. She reached for his hand and squeezed it. Her two eldest sons held her up. Supported her. Brent and I looked at each other.
Once the doctor was gone the room was quiet except for the soft cries coming from Momma. I didn’t know the right thing to say. I wasn’t good at this kind of thing.
“He’s going to live. And with his determination he’ll be walking by Christmas,” Brent said.
The ring from my phone interrupted anything more and I jerked it out of my pocket.
“Hello,” I said, needing good news. Needing to know Scarlet was okay.
“We had a busy lunch crowd come in. Without Scarlet being here we are short staffed. I had to stay. I figured she was sleeping. She’d be fine. After lunch cleared out, I went on over to her trailer. Drove up and her car was gone but the front door was standing wide open. For just anyone to walk inside. I carry a gun and I grabbed it. My heart was pounding as I made my way to the door. I got there and I saw her purse sitting right there on the table with her phone. When I called for her she didn’t answer. I looked all over that tiny place and she wasn’t in there.”
Ethel was rattling on about calling the police and asking the neighbors who I figured were too stoned to be helpful. I saw Asher step away from Momma and take a phone call before I finally stopped Ethel’s never-ending run-on sentence. “You can’t find her and her car is gone?” I asked needing to know if this was the basis of what she knew.
“Yes, and the cops don’t think it’s foul play because her purse and money and all is right here. Not touched. But why would she leave all that? Take off and leave her door open? Something ain’t right.”
I agreed. I was about to ask to speak to an officer when Asher stepped in front of me. I pulled the phone from my ear in case Ethel tried to start talking again about inane shit.
“The Moulton Police station has Scarlet,” he said.
I dropped the hand holding the phone and waited for more. How had the cops here gotten Scarlet if she was in Robertsdale?
“Why?” was all I could think to ask while my brain was scrambling to figure it out.
“Arson,” he said simply. “Her parent’s house.”
Those were only four words. But Asher had no idea just what they meant to me. They explained it all.
“She’s refusing to put on the clothing they are providing. All she was wearing when they got there was a black tee shirt several sizes too big. That’s it,” he finished raising his eyebrows.
I didn’t need details. I just needed to get to her. It was time she was protected. I’d be damned if I let the fucking bastards who raised her pin this shit on her. She wouldn’t suffer any jail time. I’d go to fucking prison for her if I had to. Fuck the goddamn system. They didn’t know what she’d lived through.
“Her car was found just inside the city limits on the side of the road out of gas. They said she walked to her parents’ house, then used matches and” he frowned before continuing—“a diary to start the fire. Or something like that. It’s ashes now but her mother told them she started the fire with a diary.”
My heart slammed against my chest at those words. I began to run. There was no time to explain. Words couldn’t adequately get through to them exactly what the significance of his words meant. Not unless I told them her secrets and I wouldn’t do that. Ever.
“Bray!” Brent called out. I didn’t stop or turn around. “Do you need me?” he added.
Not “She’s not worth it” or “You can’t leave Dallas,” but “Do you need me?”
If I was a sensitive man I might have teared up at that, but I wasn’t. I stopped running, turned to the man that was not only my brother but my twin. “They deserved it. Whatever she did, they deserved it. Now she needs protecting. That’s what I’m going to do.”
Brent didn’t hesitate. He nodded. “Call me. If you need backup. Just call.”
I stood there for the second it took to let that sink in. It wasn’t just words. It was forgiveness. The only way a Sutton boy knows how to deliver it.
“I will,” I said. Without another moment to spare, I continued running to my truck, then I broke every speed limit in the town until I parked my truck in the police station parking lot.