Later, fireworks blaze above the lake as we watch bursts of color paint the sky through the open windows. The air is warm and we lie together in bed, entangled in each other’s arms, discussing our remaining stops and the things we want to explore in each city. When my phone rings, I pick it up and glance at the caller ID. It’s my sister.
“It’s Bell. Let me just see what she wants,” I tell Ivy.
She nods, her fingers skimming the letters down my side.
“Hey, Bell. This isn’t the best time to chat. Can I call you back?”
“Xander.” I tense at my sister’s tone. It sounds like she’s crying, but then she falls oddly silent.
“Bell, what’s wrong?”
“It’s bad, Xander. It’s really bad.”
“Bell, just f**king tell me.”
“It’s Dahlia. She’s on her way to the hospital. I was over there watching movies with her one minute and then the next minute there was blood everywhere. So much blood.”
I sit up, as alarm and concern course through my body.
“What are you talking about? What happened?” A sick knot forms in my gut.
“I don’t know. I was talking to her and the next thing I know I see blood seeping through the bedsheets. I called nine-one-one, and the ambulance just left. Xander, it’s too soon for the baby.”
I feel myself tremble. “Where’s River?”
“I called him. He’s on his way to the hospital. Xander, you have to come home. We need you.”
Ivy lifts her eyes and I take her hand, holding on tight, wanting to never let go.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Call me when you get to the hospital.” I stare silently at Ivy after I end the call. “I have to go home,” I tell her, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her to me.
We leave Niagara Falls in a blur. The one-hour car ride is an emotional one. I don’t want to have to leave her, but I can’t pull her off the tour. For some reason I bring up my father’s suicide again. We discuss it in more detail than I’ve ever told anyone—breaking down, I tell her I think I pushed him too far and that I’m the one who broke him. She’s quiet for the longest time and then she leans over and says, “Xander, people make their own choices—don’t blame yourself for your father’s.”
I squeeze her hand, remembering all those sessions in therapists’ offices when they would say the same thing. The difference when she says it is that I actually want to believe it. She runs her fingers through my hair and around my ear. “I wish you would have told me then, but thank you for telling me now. I understand so much more now.”
We fall quiet as we both immerse ourselves deep in our own thoughts. I blink when I feel her smoothing her fingers through my hair. “I need you. You know that, right?”
My throat tightens as I shift my eyes to hers. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’d bring you with me if I could.”
“I know,” she whispers quietly, fidgeting in her seat in the dark.
I stop at a light and turn toward her. I tip her chin to look at me and run my thumb over her lip. “Hey, we are going to be together. We might not know how or where, we might not know what comes after the tour, but we’re going to figure it out and we’ll figure it out together.”
Tears spill from her eyes and I gather her close to me. By the time I pull up next to the bus, I’m a f**king wreck. Thoughts of her and of my father are mixed with worry for my sister-in-law and my brother.
When we finally arrive it’s really late and everyone is asleep. As soon as I set foot on the bus my phone rings. “Bell, what’s going on?” I answer.
“Oh, Xander, Dahlia had a miscarriage. She lost the baby. She was hemorrhaging and the doctors had to perform an emergency C-section.”
I can’t breathe. I have a hard time saying anything as I sit down and bow my head.
“How is she?”
“I don’t know,” Bell says between sobs.
“I’ll be there soon,” I manage to say and then I hang up.
Ivy’s hand finds my shoulder and I place mine over hers and a few moments later she leads me to the galley. She helps me throw a few things in a bag and within fifteen minutes I’m ready to set off for the airport to catch the red-eye. Tossing my bag in the trunk, I slam it shut and turn to her and pull her to me, holding her tightly. Anxiety and nervousness pulse through me at the thought of leaving her. It’s an incredibly familiar, yet somehow still foreign, feeling.
I place my fingertip over her lips and outline them, then cup the sides of her face and lean in to kiss her. “Bye, gorgeous. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
She nods reluctantly. Her expression softens as she runs her hand down my cheek. “Call me when you land, even if it’s early. Okay?” Exhaling deeply, she adds, “And, Xander, I’m here for you if you just need to talk. Remember that. I love you.”
Her words catch me off guard—I’m not used to people baring their feelings to me and I’m not used to baring them back.
With a heavy sigh, I tighten my grip on her. Kissing her hair, I whisper, “I love you too” into her ear. Then I notice she’s wearing the candy necklace. I bend down and gently bite a piece off. Chewing it, I say softly, “I’ll call you,” and without looking back, for fear of not being able to leave, I quickly get into the car.
CHAPTER 12
Disappear
Dark clouds surround me, and the first flash of bright lightning zigzags across the sky. Thunder follows with a loud crash. The rain pelts down, smashing against the plane’s windows, and another burst of lightning flashes, immediately followed by a low rumble. After hours of circling, we finally land and I just want to get the hell off this plane.
Once I hail a cab, I go straight to the hospital. I text Bell and she tells me where they all are. The ping of the elevator alerts me that I’ve arrived. I exit and see Mom standing in the open doorway to a small room. I rush to her and she holds me tightly. The waiting room is bathed in darkness, with only a single lamp in the corner to light the space. Bell enters the room from the other side and runs to join us.
“What happened?” I ask my mother.
She explains the medical terminology of Dahlia’s condition and the reason for the emergency C-section. She tells me the baby was just too little to survive the premature birth. When she finishes, I ask, “Where’s River?”
She shows me to Dahlia’s room. My hand stills on the doorknob. I suck in a breath and open the door, looking in before entering. It’s dark and the hissing of the blood pressure machine is the only sound when I walk into the room. River is nestled in the chair next to Dahlia’s bed, and she’s sleeping. He shifts his gaze to the door and as soon as he sees me, he stands up.
I study his face—it’s worn, tired, but most of all heartbroken.
“I’m—I’m sorry about the baby,” I stammer.
He chokes down a sob. “The baby was a boy,” he tells me in a trembling voice.
I can see the nakedness of his grief. I put a hand on his shoulder and then pull him to me. We stand together in silence for the longest time. “Has Dahlia woken up?”
He stares at me intently before scrubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. “Just once. She was hysterical, so the doctor gave her a sedative. She should sleep for a while, he said. They had to cut her open to deliver the baby.”
“I’m so sorry.” I can’t find any other words to soothe his pain because right now his pain is my pain.
I clear my throat. “Why don’t you go take a shower and get something to eat? I’ll sit with her.”
He shakes his head no and pushes back in the chair. I grab a chair from the other side of the room and just sit next to him for hours. By the time I leave the hospital the rain has stopped and the day has faded into night. I take Bell’s car—she got a ride from my mother and Jack. As I drive to Beverly Hills, I look up into the sky at the stars and wonder why things happen in life the way they do.
At my house, it’s dark and I’m alone. I make my way to the bedroom and throw myself on the bed. Pulling out my phone, I hit Ivy’s name. I texted her when I landed, but she hasn’t responded. I figured they were preparing for the show, but it should be over by now. There’s no answer, though. I lie in bed listening to her voice mail message and start to get nervous. “Where the hell is she?” I leave her a message and fall prey to exhaustion while waiting for her to return my call.
When I wake up, I check my phone—four a.m. here, seven there, and still no call. My nervousness quickly turns to annoyance as I dial the number again. When did I turn into a chick? I ask myself and lie back down.
I wake up again to my cell phone ringing. Blurry-eyed and groggy, I can just make out that the screen is flashing RIVER. I answer it.
“Yeah.”
“Hey, sorry to wake you up so early, but Dahlia woke up and wants to go home this morning. The doctors cleared her. Do you think you could run by the house and pick up her car? Mine will be too uncomfortable for her. Her keys should be on the hook near the garage door. And Mom ran over to the house this morning and packed a bag for her. She left it in my bedroom, if you could pick that up too.”
Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I throw myself back on the bed. “Sure, bro, I can do that. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I hang up and jump out of bed, shower, snatch my phone, and hop in my car. Bell’s car is parked next to mine and I have to get it back to her. With the sun blinding me, I search for my sunglasses and then squint at my f**king phone. Still no call from Ivy. I swing the car around the corner and turn onto Sunset Boulevard. Glancing down at my phone to call her, I look up and come to a screeching stop. Fucking LA traffic.
At River’s house, I park in front of the garage and wonder whose car is blocking the steps to the front door. I check my phone one last time and then squeeze between the concrete wall and the car. The door is ajar—cleaning lady maybe?
“Hello?” I bellow, pushing the door open with my foot.
A roar from the TV catches me off guard and my gaze shoots to the figure moving in the kitchen. A head full of long dark hair rises above the counter. Her slender figure is wrapped in an apron over a navy tank top. “Xander.” She smiles at me.
“Amy? What are you doing here?” She tries to kiss me, but I turn my cheek as she gives me a hug.
“I ran into your mother at the supermarket this morning and I told her to let me take care of the food so she could concentrate on your brother and Dahlia. She let me in and said she’d be back in a bit. I’m so sorry to hear about the baby.”
She glances at the door. “I left the door open because I burned the brownies.”
I stifle a laugh. “Well, it’s nice of you to do this. I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”
“We’ve all been friends for years. It’s the least I can do. It’s no big deal.”
I nod my head and take a step back, throwing my keys and phone on the counter. My gaze drifts to the TV, where the news is flashing a picture of two men being escorted in handcuffs to waiting police cars. The screen alert reads: OPERATION SHADOWDANCERS COMES TO AN END. It draws my attention because I think Caleb mentioned something about Ben Covington being involved with that case.
I focus on the woman reporting the news: “Two more members of the Mexican drug cartel have been arrested. Along with the bust—more than one hundred pounds of methamphetamine, ten pounds of cocaine, and half a pound of her**n were seized in the raid—vice squad detective Jason Holt said he estimates to have removed nearly five million dollars of trash from the streets. The almost five-year-long investigation culminated late last night when a long undercover operation targeting the remaining members of the Cortez family was executed. The Department of Justice said that they believe the trafficking organization run under this family is now completely shut down. In related news, Josh Hart, believed to be linked to the cartel, who was found guilty of aggravated assault and battery back in March, was sentenced to three years in prison today.”
