“He was on his bike, ridin’ around in the street in front of our house one afternoon, and he was hit by drunk driver.”
Oh f**k.
That I didn’t only not like, I f**king hated it.
“He was eight,” Duke went on.
Oh my God.
“Duke,” I whispered.
“Dolores, she had a time of it throughout the pregnancy, and she was in labor for seventy-eight hours. Finally, both her and my boy in distress, they took him. But I almost lost them both.”
Oh my God.
“So obviously,” he continued. “I wasn’t big on gettin’ her knocked up again. Dolores wanted more. I wouldn’t hear of it.” He stared at me hard. “In the end, he was all we had.”
“I didn’t know,” I said quietly.
“No one does. Except Ellen. That’s why we dropped out. Left Cali. Came home. And probably Lee knows, since he checks out everything. But he also keeps his mouth shut when he needs to.”
I nodded.
“It was afternoon, Ally,” he told me.
“What?” I asked.
“My Joshua got all his bones broke, his insides mashed, his head caved in by some guy who spent his day gettin’ soused and got behind the wheel of a car in the afternoon. What kid can’t be safe ridin’ around on the streets in front of his house in the f**kin’ afternoon?”
I shook my head because I didn’t have the answer to that. “It doesn’t make sense.”
He nodded. “It sure the f**k doesn’t.”
I said nothing.
Duke did. “It wasn’t too late. We could try again. But it broke us, both of us. Nearly lost Dolores. She couldn’t bear any memory of him, even me. But we got past it, left the life we shared with our boy, and decided not to try again. But it left a hole, Ally. A hole that I didn’t think could be filled, losin’ my kid, not havin’ another one. I bloody gaping hole.”
“I get that,” I whispered.
“And it was filled when you and Indy came into my life.”
My stomach shifted back like I’d been punched just as my heart squeezed.
“You two, so f**kin’ nuts, hangin’ with Ellen at the store, always gettin’ into trouble. Fell in love with you both the minute I laid eyes on you.”
My eyes burning, my voice croaky, I said, “Duke.”
“So you, out there on your own, doin’ dangerous shit, not talkin’ to your family about it, your friends, me…” He shook his head. “Pissed me off.”
Now I understood. God, I understood.
“I’m so sorry,” I said gently.
“I was worried about you.”
Wanting to touch him, unsure if I should but regardless, paralyzed with the pain of hearing everything he said, I just stood there and repeated, “I’m so sorry.”
“But then word got out about what happened at Lincoln’s. Tex told me everything. He wouldn’t have told you, but he was proud of you, girl. Nearly crowin’ about it. Said you knew exactly what you were doin’. Said, top to toe, through and through, you’re a Nightingale.”