Legacy (Steel Brothers Saga #14) - Helen Hardt Page 0,7

she be okay?”

“We don’t know yet. Give us some space, please.”

“But it’s my mother. She needs me.”

“Ma’am, please.”

I stepped away and stood in the doorway to the bedroom.

Then—

Daddy! I bolted back downstairs to the phone. “Daddy? Daddy, are you still there?”

Dial tone.

How far away was McFall’s? My father and Brad would be home soon.

Then everything would be okay.

It had to be.

A few seconds later, the paramedics carried my mother downstairs on a stretcher. An oxygen mask covered her face, and other wires and things stuck out of her.

“Is she okay?” I asked frantically.

“We’re doing all we can, ma’am.”

“Where are you taking her?”

“The hospital. You can ride with us if you want.”

“Yes, yes.” Then I changed my mind. “No. My dad’s on his way home. I need to be here to tell him where to go. Which hospital?”

“St. Joe’s. It’s closest. Go to the ER.”

I trembled as I nodded. “Thank you. Thank you. Please, help her. Please.”

They left and loaded my unconscious mother into the ambulance.

I fell to the floor and cried.

“Daphne, baby.”

Brad’s voice.

“What happened, sweetheart? Where did they take your mother?”

My father’s voice.

“S-St. Joe’s,” I said. “She… She took some pills. Valium. After she was drinking.”

“God,” my father said. “I have to get to the hospital.”

“I’m coming with you,” I said.

“No, sweetheart. It’s late. I want you to stay here. I’ll call with news.”

“But what if—”

“She won’t. I won’t let her.”

I nodded. My father never broke a promise to me.

“You two stay here. I’ll call as soon as I know anything.”

Guilt pulsed through me—guilt because I was almost happy to stay here. Even though I wanted to be with my mother, I hated hospitals. Hated them with a purple passion.

My father left.

Brad lifted me off the floor and held me.

I cried into his hard shoulder, completely messing up his shirt, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t stop the heaving sobs that racked my body.

This was me at my worst, and Brad was witnessing it.

What would he think?

He didn’t say anything, just held me and rubbed circles on my back. He was trying to comfort me, but I couldn’t be comforted. Not until I knew my mom was okay.

Why? Why had she done this?

Had I upset her that much by getting pregnant? It had been an accident. A true accident. We’d used a condom.

“It’s okay,” Brad whispered.

I pulled away then. “That’s not true. It’s not okay. My mother OD’d on Valium. Nothing about this is okay.”

He met my gaze. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Then he stared at me.

I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t see myself, but I could imagine. My face would be red and puffy, my eyes swollen and bloodshot.

I turned away.

“Daphne.” He touched my shoulder. “Look at me.”

“I’m ugly.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“Crying makes me ugly. I hate crying. I’ve vowed never to let anyone see me cry.”

“Your mother is in an ambulance. Of course you’re crying. It’s okay.” He kissed the top of my head. “And I’m not anyone.”

I sniffled.

“Hey.” He lifted my chin. “You’re not alone.”

I sniffled again.

“I’m here, and I’ll never leave you, baby. I swear on my life.”

His words were sweet, and even though they rang true, they made me fall into sobs again.

I cried and I cried and I cried.

In Brad’s arms, I cried.

Until finally, over an hour later, the phone rang.

Chapter Seven

Brad

I loved her. So damned much.

How could I not?

Learning the truth about Daphne had frightened me, unnerved me, enraged me, but never had I considered leaving her. I loved her, and we’d made a child together.

I would never turn my back on that.

Her father had described her as ethereal, and she was. My Daphne was too perfect for this fucked-up world. Too damned perfect. She didn’t deserve the horrors that had fallen onto her. Maybe her parents were right. It was a blessing that she didn’t remember it.

Would it stay buried forever?

Would I someday have to tell her what had truly occurred before her junior year? What she’d gone through? What had happened to her best friend?

Thoughts whirred through my mind with the sound of a buzz saw—jumbled thoughts that had no bearing on what was happening now.

Daphne’s mother had overdosed. Daphne’s mother might die.

No.

Daphne was strong, but could she handle this now? She was young, she was damaged—she didn’t even know how damaged—and she was pregnant.

She needed her mother.

What if—

The phone rang.

Daphne jerked away from me and picked it up. “Daddy?”

Then a pause. A pause that seemed to last for hours as Daphne presumably listened to what her father was saying.

Her red and swollen

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