Since Patrick had been admitted to the hospital, our communication had mostly been limited to when he left the room to get food for everyone. If he wasn’t leaving, chances were high none of them had eaten in a while. I couldn’t do much for them, but this was something I could take care of. It would give me a purpose that wouldn’t leave me feeling like an outsider.
No one’s in the mood to eat, but thanks.
I didn’t ask if you’re in the mood. You need to eat, Linc.
Not now.Something about his curt response told me to drop it and respect that they didn’t want anything. That didn’t stop me from spending an outrageous amount of money in the airport gift shop, picking up snacks and an assortment of drinks. They neededsomething. Not eating wasn’t good for any of them.
With the hospital address in my GPS, I merged into traffic, wishing they’d all get the hell out of my way. A sour taste filled my mouth as I tried to think of any reason for Linc not coming to meet me other than Patrick’s condition deteriorating. Nothing came to mind, other than the doctors had delivered bad news while I’d been in the air.
Even without Linc providing me the details of what was going on, I knew Patrick’s odds of survival from this were slim. Anyone who’d seen the images of his mangled Mustang had to know that, without even factoring in the damage he’d already done to his brain over the years playing football.
I handed my keys off to the valet and raced into the hospital, screeching to a stop when I realized I had no clue where I was supposed to go. Asking the information desk wouldn’t do any good because I was certain they’d been forbidden from giving out any information.
I texted Linc again—I’d texted more today than any other day of my damn life—to ask what room I was supposed to go to. That ominous pit in my stomach returned when he said he’d meet me in the lobby.
When Linc stepped off the elevator, it took everything in my power to not race to his side and fold him in my arms. He practically staggered in my direction, most likely unaware I was directly in front of him, moving as quickly as possible without raising anyone’s attention since his eyes were cast to the floor. His shoulders were hunched forward in a way I’d never seen before.
Lincoln was one of the strongest men I knew, but the man standing before me was broken. Defeated. When he looked up, the last of my resolve crumbled.
I dropped the bag of drinks and snacks to the floor as I wrapped my arms tightly around his middle. Linc buried his face in the crook of my neck, and I didn’t miss the wetness seeping through my shirt.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” I whispered, easing him toward the wall so we weren’t blocking anyone wanting to pass by. I was vaguely aware of someone picking up the bag and setting it on a table near us.
Linc shook in my arms, sobbing quietly against my shoulder. In that moment, he couldn’t have cared less about what society said in regards to men crying; he was hurting, and finally releasing that pain now that I was here. I wished, not for the first or even twentieth time, that I’d listened to Teddy sooner and flown down regardless of what Lincsaidhe wanted from me.
“He’s gone, Nix. They…he…” Lincoln expelled an audible breath as he tried to regain his composure. I released him, taking hold of his hand so we could move to one of the semi-private sitting areas nearby. He sagged back in the chair, his hand limply resting in mine. “We were talking about trying to get the doctors to wait until after Hunter’s game to stop life support. Hunter would have wanted to say goodbye to him, and Angie agreed. But then… God, Nixon, it was the scariest thing I’ve seen in my life.”
I reached into the bag, handing Lincoln a bottle of water. He sipped, trying to put his thoughts into a coherent sentence. “Take your time. Do we need to get up to be with Angie? Is Tanner here?”
Lincoln nodded. “Angie called me when I was on my way back and asked me to pick him up. That’s when I knew something was very, very wrong. She’s been trying to shield him a bit because he’s not taking it well at all. He blames himself for not stopping Patrick from leaving that morning. Thinks he should’ve told her about the appointment instead of respecting his dad’s wish to drop it. Hell, we all do. And now, we’ll never know if he was really going to that damn appointment or if he’d planned this all along. I want to think he wasn’t that selfish, but then I think about how different he seemed this week. It was like he was going out of his way to leave on a high note.”
“None of that matters, Linc,” I told him, moving to kneel between his legs, crooking a finger under his chin to force eye contact. “It doesn’t matter if this was an accident or something else. Right now, you’re all hurting and that’s okay. It’s normal.”
“But if he did this on purpose…”
“The end result is still the same. Now, let’s go upstairs so you can help Angie and Tanner. I can take everyone home and we’ll come back for cars tomorrow. I don’t think any of you need to be driving right now.” We stood and I steered him back toward the elevators.
“She’s not ready to leave,” he told me. “After he started seizing and they couldn’t get it to stop, she asked me what we should do. We both knew Patrick wouldn’t want to keep living that way, so we called the doctors in and told them our decision. Told them it was time for us to say goodbye. Even Tanner didn’t argue; he just sat on the other side of the bed, hugging his dad as if that’d bring him back. Once they came in and disconnected everything, it was only a few minutes and he was gone. The nurses have been in a few times telling her he’s gone and it’s time to let him go, but she won’t leave that room.”
“Then we’ll try and convince her that he’s not here. It’s not helping her to stay,” I said matter-of-factly. “If she’s not ready to go home, we’ll take her back to your place. Tomorrow, we’ll deal with whatever needs to be done. Have you called Hunter?”
Lincoln shook his head. “I know I need to, but I keep telling myself I should wait until he calls to let me know they’re in their hotel.”
“I get that you’re trying to protect him, Linc, but you need to tell him. It’s only a matter of time before word leaks and it hits the internet. He deserves to hear this from you.” I stepped back from the elevator as the doors opened. He couldn’t put off making this phone call, and I didn’t want Angie overhearing him. She’d be in enough pain without listening to Lincoln breaking the news of Patrick’s death to his son. “Let’s call him and then we’ll go up. I’ll be right here with you.”
“Thank you.”
“No need for thanks. This is where I want to be.” I cupped Lincoln’s face in my hands and kissed him softly. Nothing that could be seen as lewd or inappropriate, just a simple press of my lips against his.
We sat back in the same chairs we’d just vacated, and I watched as he scrolled to Hunter’s contact information and connected the call. Squeezed his hand as he counted the rings from the other end of the line. Held my breath when I heard Hunter answer.
His words were muffled, but I could still hear the panic in his voice. “Pops, what’s wrong?”
Linc swallowed hard, opened his mouth to speak and closed it again. I rubbed his forearm, wishing there was something more I could do. His eyes met mine, softening briefly behind his unshed tears.
“Are you still on the bus?” Whatever Hunter said made Linc stiffen in his chair. “Damn, I’m sorry. Look, I wanted to call you…it’s a bad time, I know, but Nixon was right…”
“Spit it out, Pops.”Well, that was plenty clear.
