The Unloved (19 page)

I took a step closer, battling with myself on whether or not I should confront her and ask why, acting all pissy and angry like I wanted to, or walk over calmly to see what she was up to, knowing that she must have a good reason for not wanting me to know about her meeting with him. The decision was made for me when I saw what happened next play out in slow motion—Brian leaned in and kissed her.

He
kissed
Jules!
My
Jules!

The anger I’d felt mixed with hurt so fast I thought I might vomit. I watched him moving his head against her face as though he’d done so a million times, and in that moment I wondered if he had. I waited for her to push him off so that I would know his lips were unwelcomed, an invasion of her personal space, giving me the right to stomp over and pull him out of his Blazer and beat the shit out of him like I had Vincent. My heart began to pound and I held my breath, waiting for her to retreat. She didn’t; she didn’t push him away like I wanted her to. I couldn’t see her face, all I could see was the top of her forehead, but it wasn’t moving away. Not as quickly as I would have liked anyway.

I started over to her door before I knew what exactly I was going to do when I got there. I opened it and saw Brian finally jerk back hard and fast as though someone had pushed him and I wished Jules had. I fucking wished this had all been a misunderstanding and that she hadn’t been kissing him back, but I’d seen it. I’d seen her not try to get him off her.

Jules spun to face me, her big green eyes looking shocked and horrified all at the same time. I saw them begin to water, and she shook her head as if trying to deny what I’d just seen with my own eyes, but she didn’t speak.

“Save it, okay. I don’t want to hear the clichéd bullshit about how this isn’t what it looks like or how you never meant to hurt me.” My voice sounded cold even to my own ears and I was glad, because it was better than having it crack with all the mixed up emotions I was feeling. “How could you?” I bit out.

I didn’t wait for her response. I turned and walked away, not wanting either of them in my sight. I headed straight back to Blake’s car. Both Blake and Quiet Tom were staring open-mouthed at Brian’s vehicle; they hopped in the car as soon as I made it to the passenger door. I slung it open and then slammed it shut once I was inside with more force than I probably should have, considering it wasn’t my car.

“What happened?” Blake asked, starting the car. “You look pissed. Was Jules in there with him? I thought she was supposed to be with Emily and Tiff today?”

“Yeah, well, me too,” I muttered. “Take me home, would you?”

“No problem, man.”

I slouched down in the passenger seat and didn’t glance back at Brian’s Blazer to see if Jules had hopped out. I closed my eyes and fought back the tears that threatened to escape as the sight of him savoring her mouth flashed through my mind again. Leaning my head back against the seat, I let out a loud sigh and pressed the palms of my hands against my eyes in a better effort to keep my tears at bay.

This birthday fucking blew.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

JULIE

I’d managed to get myself together and push Brian off me at the exact moment when Nick had swung my door open. Tendrils of relief had started floating through me at the sight of him, breaking through my panicked shock, until his eyes had locked with mine and I’d realized that he wasn’t angry with Brian, he was angry with me. I’d shook my head and began to scream in my mind that it wasn’t what he’d thought, I wasn’t kissing him back, but my voice couldn’t find its way to my lips fast enough.

Nick had walked away before then.

I’d let him walk away, too. I couldn’t believe it. My heart hammered in my chest as I watched Blake’s car leave the parking lot at a rapid pace. I wondered where they were going, but knew the second I saw them turn right. Nick must have wanted to go home after seeing that. I couldn’t blame him.

“I didn’t know you and him were like an item or whatever. I never would have…if I had known…I’m sorry,” Brian stumbled over his words, obviously just as shocked by the chain of events that had happened as me.

“Yeah, well…” I whispered. “I have to go.”

I slipped out of the passenger seat and started home. Pulling my cell from my pocket I glanced down at the darkened screen and debated whether or not I should call Nick to explain or just stop by his house. In the end I decided to do both. His phone was busy. How was his
cell phone
busy? I waited a few heartbeats before I attempted to call back; this time it just kept ringing. He must have been making a call when I’d tried the first time. I wondered stupidly if it had been to me.

I slowed my pace and shoved my hands into my coat pockets. Why hadn’t I pushed Brian off the second his lips had touched mine? The panic and suffocating fear, like the entire vehicle had been sucked of air, tightened my chest again at the memory. Guilt cut me. I hated how it must have all looked to Nick. I should have just told him I was going to meet with Brian for mom.

Tears fell from my eyes, leaving warm streaks on my cold cheeks. How was I ever going to make Nick believe me? How would he ever trust me again? I’d hurt the only person who’d ever truly cared for me in the worst way possible and now he hated me.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

NICK

Blake pulled up into my driveway and let the car idle. “You want us to hang out or are you wanting to be like alone or whatever?”

“Alone,” I muttered, knowing I sounded like a dick, but not caring. They’d understand.

“All right, man. Well, we’ll see you later or something,” Blake said.

I nodded and opened the door to climb out.

“Happy Birthday, dude,” Quiet Tom said as he took my place in the passenger seat.

“Yeah, thanks,” I grumbled with a wave.

I didn’t watch them back out; I headed straight inside. All I wanted was to be alone. The TV was on low in the living room when I opened the front door and the sound of water running from the kitchen could be heard from where I stood. Mom must have been in the kitchen.

“I’m home, but I’m going to lie down for a little while,” I called out, but she didn’t reply. I stomped across the living room and poked my head into the kitchen slightly annoyed at having to repeat myself, but I didn’t want her coming to ask why I was home early and all that crap. “I said I’m—” My voice clamped off from the horror of what I saw.

Mom lay in the middle of the kitchen floor, her hair splayed out across her face, a puddle of vomit beside her, and the water from the sink on full blast. I rushed over and turned the water off, then dropped to my knees at her side, my heart pounding so hard in my throat I could barely breathe.

“Mom? Mom, are you okay?” I managed to squeeze out. Tears flowed from my eyes when she didn’t respond.

My mind was frantic, thoughts and fears rushed through my head at turbo speed, creating a buzzing noise in my skull. I reached out and gripped her wrist; she was still warm, but I was having problems finding a pulse. When I finally thought I felt one, I second guessed myself because my heart was pounding so hard from fear that I could feel it pulsating in my fingertips.

I snagged my phone out of my back pocket and for the first time in my life dialed 911. The dispatcher’s calm voice filled my ear within seconds and I’d never been more grateful to hear another’s voice so much in my life.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“It’s my mom. I found her lying on the kitchen floor when I got home. I don’t think she’s breathing,” I said in a rush. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t even see any wound. Nothing.”

I remained on the phone, doing exactly as I was told until I could finally hear the ambulance siren in the distance.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

JULIE

I’d made it to the corner of our road and Hoffman Lane when an ambulance went zooming past me, turning onto my street. My feet picked up pace as curiosity and dread pooled together in my stomach. Something was wrong; I could feel it.

I only had to walk a few more feet before I could clearly see the ambulance pull into Nick’s driveway. My stomach sunk and adrenaline spiked through my veins as my feet broke into a full-fledged run. The thought that Nick might have done something to hurt himself crossed my mind and fear gnawed away at my brain. If that was the case, I’d never forgive myself, even though I hadn’t done anything wrong.

Sweat beaded against my brow, my heart hammered in my chest, and my breath came in erratic stinging pulls through my lungs from the cold air by the time I reached his front door and stepped inside. Nick stood in the kitchen with his back to me and I felt my body relax, until paramedics shuffled past him with his mom lying on a stretcher. I could hear someone shouting they’d found a faint pulse and that she was as stabilized as she was going to get for transport, but they needed to hurry.

“Can I ride with you?” Nick asked one of them, still oblivious to me standing in his living room. His eyes were red and swollen from crying and his face was splotchy. He gripped his cell phone in his hand tightly, and I realized he’d probably been trying to call 911 when I’d called him the first time.

“I’m afraid not. You’ll have to take your own transportation and meet us there,” the paramedic answered.

“I’ll drive you,” I offered.

Nick shifted his eyes to me and I held my breath, waiting for him to answer. They softened as more tears sprang from them. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought maybe he was glad to see me. Maybe in this moment we could put what had happened just minutes ago aside.

Nick never spoke to answer me; he simply just nodded his head. With tears streaming down my face I found his keys and met him at the car.

We didn’t speak the entire ride to the hospital. When I pulled into the emergency entrance, Nick barely waited for the car to come to a complete stop before he hopped out and started toward the automatic doors.

When I stepped inside I spotted him at the front desk area and hurried to his side.

“They brought her in a few minutes ago, but I don’t know anything about her condition or state. I’m sorry. Go through the door and turn right. There will be a waiting room for you near the end of the hallway on the left. I’ll let one of the nurses know that’s where you’ll be at when they have anything to tell you,” the receptionist said.

Nick nodded and muttered, “Thank you,” before putting his hands in his front pockets and walking away. I followed, but from his fast pace, began to wonder if he even wanted me to.

Once we reached the ICU waiting room, Nick sat in a stained maroon chair next to the vending machine and rested his elbows on top of his knees, while pressing his interlaced fingers to his mouth. I sat beside him and didn’t say a word. I wanted to ask what had happened, but from the look on his face, Nick didn’t seem to know much more than I did.

The desire to reach out and touch him, console him, filled me. I softly brushed my hand against his back and he shrugged me off.

“Don’t, don’t touch me right now. I can’t deal with what I feel toward you and what’s going on with my mom all at the same time,” he muttered coldly.

I jerked my hand back and placed it in my lap. Tears stung my eyes, but I could understand. Me being here wasn’t as helpful to him as I’d hoped, but I wasn’t about to leave him alone.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

NICK

I didn’t want her to touch me. I wasn’t even sure I wanted her to be here at all. At first, when she’d offered to drive me and I realized she was there with me as they hauled my mom out, I was glad. Relieved. Now, not so much. I had too much going on in my head—worry for my mom and if she’d even make it through whatever the hell it was that had happened to her, and fighting off the images of Brian and Jules lip-locking.

I wasn’t strong enough to think about both. Not right now.

I buried my head in my hands and fought back tears while my thoughts and fears from the unknown slowly ate away at me.

~

An hour and a half after I’d arrived at the hospital a bald guy with a white coat on came into the waiting room to speak to me.

“I’m Dr. Emery, are you her son?” he asked, wiping the sweat beads off his forehead.

I stood. “Yes, I am. Is she going to be okay?”

“Do you know if she complained of having any blurred vision or headaches recently?” he asked, ignoring the only question I wanted an answer to.

I remembered her pinching her nose this morning and rubbing her temples as she gave me my present—the jacket I was wearing. “She had a headache this morning. Is she going to be all right?” I asked once more. My mouth filled with saliva as I watched him shake his head slightly from side to side.

“We’ve determined that your mother has had a ruptured cerebral aneurysm. After some testing we’ve discovered there is a large amount of blood and spinal fluid near her brain. This is not uncommon, but it is, however, very serious. We’ve already called for our local neurosurgeon and he’s on his way as we speak. Due to the amount of spinal fluid and blood present near her brain, the neurosurgeon will need to insert a drain to prevent hydrocephalus.”