“Give me a minute. Don’t leave me, brother.”
“I’m here,” I said.
He eyes were glazed over, and at first, all he did was stare at the ceiling, nothing whatsoever showing on his face. His first words seemed to be whatever he had in terms of reserve, and since he was settling into a life that had been on the verge of no more, he seemed to be taking stock of the physical.
His hand gripped mine tighter all of a sudden before it relaxed some, but then it started to tremble. Though he let up on the pressure, I continued to grip his hand with enough strength to be noticed. Tears ran from the sides of his eyes, a steady stream that I didn’t even think he noticed.
“Fausti?”
“I’m still here, brother.”
“I—” He kept his eyes up to the ceiling, gazing at it as though it was some mystical creature he had never encountered before. “I was dreaming, man. Before I woke up. I think. I’m not sure...”
His thought trailed until it picked up again after he cleared his throat.
“You know how an hourglass fills with sand? And when you look through the glass you can see your reflection—you become trapped in the bottle—wasted time is what it is, man.” He licked his lips. “Blood started to trickle at first, before it started to rise. It was scalding hot before it became so damn cold I could hardly stand it. My entire world was blue.”
We didn’t speak for a while, the monitors in the background continuing to beep.
“I’m not sure what happened, while I was under. If something did—” He lifted one arm and then let it fall. “I can’t remember. But I’ll never forget the feel of blue. It was the worst—nightmare that I’ve ever had.” He took a deep breath and then released it in a slow stream. “As my brother, I need you to tell me before they do. I’ll be damned if a stranger tells me.”
I cleared my throat. “You hit a tree along the driveway to your house. Going too fast. You were too drunk.”
“The oak,” he croaked. “Where all those fucking cockroaches were coming from.”
“Yeah,” I said. “You almost died on scene, but they were able to stabilize you and transport you here. You’re in Baton Rouge.”
Tears fell from my eyes, and I couldn’t be man enough to staunch them. I had brothers that I shared blood ties with—the same man had created us all—but Mitch and I, we shared a bond that could only be broken by one. Scarlett. She was the one in my life who could alter the course of anything or anyone else. But she loved Mitch, and Mitch loved her.
Mitch squeezed my hand, and we were almost breaking each other’s knuckles. “Say it, Fausti. I listen to your truth and know it’s not to hurt me, man. I’m strong enough to hear it—I have to hear it. It’s you or a stranger, man. Don’t let it be a stranger.”
For the first time, he looked me in the eye. He nodded after a few seconds, holding on.
“Ah.” I shook my head, trying to clear the voices screaming at me to keep this from him. “They had to take your left leg from the knee down. The tree did some real damage.”
He went completely limp after the reality of the situation made it to his mind. He had to hear it to believe it.
“Not the tree,” he whispered. “Me. Fuckingme!”
Then he started to cry, not a slow stream, but the kind of tears that a man usually reserves for his woman or himself. I had no other experience with this, and other than crawling out of my skin, all I could do was keep our hands linked.
A breath of relief rushed out of me when two shadows filled his door. Scarlett and Violet. Scarlett’s breath rushed out of her. Violet became so frozen and so pale that it was almost as if she were staring at a ghost. She shivered, a cold wind passing, and then moved.
Men could be as strong as iron, but when it came to a woman’s love and comfort, there was nothing in this world stronger—and I dared anyone to tell me otherwise.
It could heal when nothing else was able to. It could hold back the forces of death long enough to see the man through to the other side. It was the antidote to all sickness, and the relief in all circumstances. It could make a man smile when he had nothing or everything to lose.
I was my wife’s armor in this life, but she was the strength of my heart.
Violet embraced Mitch, and I stood, looking for my wife. I never had to look far. She was already beside me, ready to wrap her arms around me so I could feel the strength that I had somehow lost.
“Mick?” I whispered to her.
“Sybil called and told him that it wasn’t right that the children were being cared for by Maggie Beautiful and Aberto. And that he needed sleep. He decided to go back to the hotel room.” She looked up at me. “Is Mitch going to be okay?”
I glanced at the bed. “He’s going to be. Come, baby. Let’s give them some privacy. I’ll have Nino stay behind to bring Violet to the hotel when it’s time.”
“Somehow,” Scarlett whispered to me as we reached the elevators, “this alters the course of things.”
