She leans close to me and her hand lands on my knee. “You wanna help me with that?”
She can’t even begin to imagine how much I want to help her with that, but my energy levels are at an all-time low. “Baby, I could help you with that, but you’d be doing all the work. I don’t even have the energy to dream of fucking you, let alone doing it.”
“All right, let’s get you showered and into bed then,” she takes over as she hops off the stool.
I do as she says with a grin on my face while dirty thoughts fill my mind.
“Why are you grinning like that?” she asks, watching me with slight confusion.
“Because I was just thinking that at some point I will have energy and when that happens, it’s gonna be a marathon sex session. And that thought made me really fucking happy.”
I watch as she thinks about that, and I love the sexy smile she gives me.
Motioning for me to walk, she bosses me, “You need to start moving and stop talking, because otherwise I’m going to be happy to do all the work while we change my dress, but I really don’t want to take what little energy you do have. So move, Mr. Rockstar.”
Again, I do as she says.
I love her bossy ways and wouldn’t change her for the world.
* * *
Six hours later, I’m showered, rested, and ready to face the hospital again. And I’ve got Presley out of that scrap of material and into a respectable dress that covers her legs. Every inch of them.
“Do you want to drive?” she asks, holding her keys out to me as we walk downstairs to the car park.
“Christ,” I grumble as I take the keys from her, “we need to go to my place at some point and get my car. I keep hitting my head on yours when I get in and out of it. And I need clean clothes, too.”
She pokes her tongue at me. “Maybe you should bend your head when you get in my car.”
I chuckle. “You’re attached to your car, aren’t you?” It’s gotta be five years old, and I can’t see the attraction, but she seems to really like it.
“It’s the first car I ever bought brand new, so yeah, I am kind of attached to it.”
We reach her car and I unlock it. Smiling at her, I say, “I get that.”
“Crap, I forgot my purse,” she says while rummaging through her handbag. “I’m gonna run up real quick and grab it.”
“Sure, I’ll wait here for you.”
I watch her go and then lean my back against the car while I pull my phone out and check my text messages. There’s one from Claudia from a couple of hours ago that I missed so I tap it to open.
Claudia: I meant it when I said you are the best brother. I love you, Jett.
My eyes skim the words over and over but I can’t bring myself to type a message back to her. I don’t fucking want to.
I rub the back of my neck and stretch.
Maybe a miracle will happen.
“Shit,” I mutter after pushing a breath out and sliding my phone back into the pocket of my jeans.
What’s the fucking likelihood of two miracles in one lifetime?
A siren sounds in the distance, diverting my attention to it for a minute, and I can’t help but think how the world carries on around us even when everything is falling apart.
Pain.
Loss.
Grief.
The world doesn’t know and it sure as shit doesn’t care.
My phone rings, vibrating against my leg and dragging me out of my thoughts.
“Mum…everything okay?” I ask after checking caller ID and worrying that she’s calling for a reason other than to tell me she’s leaving the hospital.
She doesn’t say anything and the dread circling in my gut climbs up to my throat. I gulp it back and am just about to ask her again when a sob leaves her mouth and travels down the line to me. “Jett…” Her voice cuts off as another sob fills the air between us.
Fuck.
Fuck!
“What is it?” I demand as my limbs turn to jelly and my head begins to spin. This can’t be happening. It can’t be what I think it is.
“Claudia…she’s gone…” Agony screams down the line at me as my mother says the words no mother ever wants to say.