All In (25 page)

Like a thousand pound stone has fallen
off my chest, for the first time since the accident, I’m able to
take a deep breath. Andrew’s awake. And on Ashley’s birthday. I
can’t help but imagine her, happy and celebrating, and then, in an
instant, that thousand pound stone is back and crushing my heart. I
miss her so much.

I cough to cover the rising lump in my
throat, but even I can tell it’s fake, so I’m sure Sam can too.
“Well, can you tell him I hope he…gets well soon? And that I’m
sorry.”

“I’m actually going to the hospital to
talk to Mr. Whitmore tomorrow…by himself,” Sam says, emphasizing
the ‘by himself’ part. I must look confused because he quickly
adds, “Andrew Whitmore.”

Oh.

“Really? By himself?”

Sam nods. “At two. I told his parents
it would take about an hour, but I don’t suspect it’ll take longer
than twenty minutes or so…If you wanna stop by.”

“Thank you,” I manage, unable to clear
the lump in my throat with a fake cough this time.

“It’s the least I can do, Lane. You
saved his life. He should know.”

…

As I sit in the parking lot of the
hospital, I can’t help but scan the faces that walk out, hoping to
catch a glimpse of Ashley.

Twenty past two. It’s now or
never.

I feel a pain pierce my chest as I
step out of the elevator onto the fourth floor and wander into the
empty waiting room. It’s not the same one I last spoke to Ashley
in, but it’s practically identical, and the memory of the way she
looked at me, and the things she said makes my knees feel unstable
again.

I fidget and pace, trying to stop the
onslaught of painful memories while I wait for Sam to finish
interviewing Andrew.

“Lane?” I hear from behind me and
recognize the rigid voice immediately.

Shit. Mr. Whitmore.

Ashley and her father made it quite
clear the last time I saw them that I was not welcome here. At all.
“Lane,” he says again, this time without a question in his
tone.

I turn around slowly and put my hands
up in front of my body; trying to show I’m not a threat like one
might do with a frightened child or animal. “Sir. I’m sorry, I just
wanted to speak with Andrew, make sure he’s okay. I swear I won’t
cause a problem, and I’ll leave as soon as I see him,” I say in one
long breath, trying to make a case for myself. “Please, sir, just a
few minutes and then I’ll go.”

Mr. Whitmore stands firm, staring at
me with a look on his face that seems conflicted, then takes three
wide steps until he’s directly in front of me. I flinch
involuntarily.

“I’m sorry, sir.” I drop my hands to
my side and stare at my feet. “I’ll leave.”

“You will do nothing of the sort,” he
replies softly, causing my head to snap up in disbelief.

“I’m… sorry?”

Mr. Whitmore clears his throat and I
see his eyes becoming red and watery. “No, Lane, I’m the one who’s
sorry. I spoke with Officer Evans a little while ago, and he let me
know what you did for Andrew. You saved my boy,” he says, his voice
breaking. “I should have trusted Ashley’s judgment about you. I was
wrong. You are a fine young man, and I am truly sorry for how I
treated you.”

It takes all my will power
to keep my jaw closed tight, even though it feels like I have a
weight in my mouth trying to force it open. Did Mr. Whitmore just
apologize to
me
?

I’m not sure where to look or what to
do with my hands, so I shove them in my pockets then look him
directly in the eyes. “Uh…thank you, sir,” I stammer. “Ashley and
Andrew mean a lot to me, I’d do anything for them.”

“That is quite apparent,” he says,
clasping me on the shoulder in a fatherly way.

The door to my right creaks open and
Sam emerges looking startled at the scene in front of him. “Is
everything alright out here?” he says, placing his hands on his
belt and squaring his shoulders. Total cop stance.

Mr. Whitmore drops his hand from my
shoulder. “Yes, everything is fine, thank you, Officer,” Mr.
Whitmore replies before reaching out to shake my hand. “Take all
the time you want.” He nods towards Andrew’s door. “Andrew will be
happy to see you.”

With my mind still reeling from my
encounter with Mr. Whitmore I step into Andrew’s darkened room then
shut the door behind me. The click it makes echoes loudly, causing
Andrew’s eyes to fly open.

“Dude, you just scared the crap out of
me,” he says with a grin on his face. “I totally thought that cop
changed his mind and was coming back to arrest me for something.”
He chuckles but I can’t move.

I stare wide eyed at the cuts and
bruises on Andrew’s face in varying shades of blue, green and
purple. But that’s nothing compared to the large surgical staples I
see in his hairline. He has several bandages covering his arms,
like mine, and one leg is in a cast from his ankle to his hip. He
looks bad.

“Don’t worry, man, it looks way worse
than it is,” he says, clearly trying to put me at ease. “And the
pain meds are awesome.”

That’s exactly what I needed, Andrew
being Andrew. I smile. He’s going to be okay.

“How ya doin’?” I ask, sitting in the
chair next to his bed. The faint smell of Ashley, like warm sugar,
assaults my senses. My mind and heart battle each other over taking
long deep pulls of her scent or holding my breath to avoid the pain
of missing her so badly. My heart wins as I take in a breath
through my nose greedily.

He looks me right in the eyes. “I’m
doing good, man, thanks to you.” The words are casual, but the way
he says them is serious and grateful.

I look down at my feet, uncomfortable
with his gratitude. “It’s no big deal. You’d done the same thing
for me.”

“Yeah, I would’ve,” Andrew says. And
there’s nothing else that needs to be said. I know he would have
too.

I give Andrew a quick fist bump and
smile, though what he returns is more of a half wince- half smile
and his eyes are droopy, I assume from the medication.

“Hey, why don’t I let you get some
rest, and I’ll come hang out later?” I offer since I don’t think
Mr. Whitmore will have an issue with it.

“That’s cool. Like I said… the meds
are pretty good.” Andrew smiles before closing his eyes and
relaxing into his pillow.

I stand to leave when the door opens,
and for a split second the swirl of Ashley’s perfume kicks up all
around me. I hold my breath hoping when I turn around she’ll be
standing in the doorway, but instead when I look over my shoulder
it’s Gregory Chase who’s standing there, glaring at me.

Luckily, Andrew doesn’t seem to have
been awoken by the noise of the door this time.

“What the hell are
you
doing here?” Greg
growls at me with narrowed eyes.

“Quiet. He’s sleeping,” I say in an
angry whisper. “And I was just leaving.” I walk to the door, but
Gregory doesn’t move when I try to reach past him for the door
handle; instead he checks me hard with his shoulder.

“What is your problem?” I ask loudly,
before glancing at Andrew, worried I might wake him. Andrew’s eyes
flutter open and then close again. I lower my voice, “Seriously,
dude?”

“My problem is you,” he says seething.
“You’re like a cat with nine lives—I just can’t seem to get rid of
you.”

“I’m trying to leave, you’re the one
not letting me go.”

“If only it was that easy,” he says,
taking a step toward me. He gives a quick glance at Andrew then
levels his eyes back on me. “You know, at first you were just a
nuisance, like a gnat I had to constantly swat away. You thought
you could embarrass me in front of Ashley, look like the man. I
figured getting you fired was the least I’d need to do to make her
see how ridiculous it was she was even looking at you. Eliminate
the distraction.”

“Not my fault she has good taste,” I
say smugly as I think back to the flirty smile she’d given me right
before Gregory dropped that fork on the ground. “Jealous,” I
taunt.

I watch Gregory’s jaw tighten at my
dig. “Jealous of you? Hardly,” he sneers. “More like sick of you.
You think you can come in here and steal Ashley and Andrew from me,
and there won’t be any consequences?”

I take another step backwards. “First
off, Ashley wasn’t yours for me to steal and secondly, Andrew can
make friends with whoever he likes,” I say cautiously because he’s
sending off some serious creepy vibes.

Gregory reaches up and pulls at his
hair, taking another step forward like I’m prey he’s stalking.
“Andrew made a fool out of me at the bluffs betting on you and not
me, and even after calling the cops and getting you arrested, it
did nothing. Nothing.” His eyes are wide and darting as he takes
another step forward while I take another one back.

“You
called the cops?” I ask in disbelief, although the crazier he
keeps acting the less surprised I am.

“Then after your big stunt at the
bonfire, playing Ashley’s hero, I made sure my father let the
scholarship board know all about your little arrest. I wish you
could have seen your face when you were begging my father to help
you get the scholarship back that we made sure you lost in the
first place. We had a good laugh about it.”

“You…you got my scholarship pulled?” I
say in shock. I stumble backwards until my back hits the cold grey
wall, snapping me out of my disbelief and sending the small nagging
thought I didn’t even realize I had in the back of my mind,
slamming forward against my skull.

“You did something to my
car.” It’s not a question but a statement. “
You
caused the accident.”

“I just couldn’t seem to get rid of
you, no matter how hard I tried,” he says, taking one last step
forward, boxing me into the corner. “But those spike strips were
meant for you, not Andrew.”

Ashley

As I meander down the hall with a
single serve chocolate pudding cup for Andrew, I hear a steady
murmur of voices around the corner, which is unusual for this
floor. It’s far quieter up here, compared to the ICU where Andrew
had been before coming out of his coma. There was always a constant
stream of machine alarms going off, followed by panicked nurses and
doctors attempting to resuscitate fragile patients.

I take a deep breath, relieved my big
brother is awake now and healing fast. As I round the corner of the
hallway leading to Andrew’s room I’m surprised to see a number of
cops still there. I glance at the large clock hanging on the wall
above me. The interview was supposed to take an hour, it’s been
nearly two. Why are they still here?

I pick up my pace, suddenly anxious as
I brush past the cops standing just outside Andrew’s room. I’m
comforted to see Andrew lying in his bed, awake, just as I had left
him, except now the tiny room is filled with another cop, my
mother, father, a nurse, a doctor and Lane.

Lane.

He’s standing at the edge of Andrew’s
bed speaking with the police officer, and I don’t even bother
wondering why he’s here. It’s been more than two weeks since I’ve
seen him last and I have to stop myself from running to him,
throwing my arms around his neck and begging him to forgive me for
everything I did and said the night of the accident.

I try to tear my eyes away from him,
to ask my father what’s happened, but I can’t. My heart won’t even
let me blink. I stand frozen in a room whirling with activity just
watching him. Missing him.

“Ashley, dear,” my mother calls from
somewhere behind me, causing Lane to lift his head and lock eyes
with mine. My heart thuds so hard in my chest I can feel my pulse
in my fingertips, and I’m suddenly lightheaded. I know I should sit
before I faint, but my feet won’t move, and I don’t want them to. I
don’t want to risk the chance Lane will look away and never look
back again. I hold his gaze, giving him a sad smile, a silent
apology I hope he can hear. He smiles back.

“Ashley?” my mother says again,
stepping directly in front of me, cutting off our contact. I try to
move around her and toward him, but she puts her cool hands on the
side of my face. “Dear, are you feeling alright? You’re as pale as
a ghost. Come sit with your father and I for a little bit, and we
can explain what’s happened.”

Reluctantly, I let her guide me out of
the room with one last glance over my shoulder at Lane, who’s still
looking at me, making my heart skip a beat.

“What’s going on?” I ask, looking at
my parents concerned faces.

“Sit, sit.” My mother pats the seat of
the waiting room chair next to them, her voice unusually
high.

My parents share a look that I can’t
quite decipher before my dad takes my hands in his, like he’s about
to deliver bad news. I shift in my chair, glancing between the two
of them, my palms beginning to sweat.

“Well, sweetie, the officers are here
to speak with your brother and Lane about the accident again as
some new information has been brought to light.”