Charlie: You’ve been living on takeaways for the past couple of nights.
Derrick: Cooking for one is depressing. And I don’t have time.
Charlie: Wish I was there to cook for you when you come home.
Derrick: You can cook?
Charlie: Yes.
Derrick: That just made you hotter.
Charlie: Maybe I’ll send you some pictures of me shirtless cooking.
Derrick: Please, I need new material to jerk off to.
Charlie: Me too.
Derrick: Will do. Any requests?
Charlie: Just you.
61
DERRICK
My phone is ringing, and when I look down at the time, it’s early in the morning. Who the hell is calling me at this time? I see it’s Sienna, and my stomach drops.
“What is it? Is it the babies? Evan? What’s happened?”
She is crying as she answers, “It’s Stacey. Her family has died.”
My stomach drops. What the hell? “No. No. I don’t understand. We were just with them the other day. How can they be dead?”
“They were driving home and a truck hit them. They’re gone, D. Poor Stacey. Oh my god, those kids.” She bursts out crying.
“Fuck,” I curse, bursting into tears. Stacey’s family was so happy for her. We all just had the best time of our lives together at Finn and Isla’s wedding. Her sister and brother-in-law were there, enjoying their first holiday away from the kids and farm ever. “Her parents were killed, too?”
“They were picking them up.”
“The kids. Oh my god, the kids. Those poor babies.” I cry.
“I know. The Dirty Texas jet is on standby. I’m going, did you want to come?” Sienna asks.
“Yes. Stacey needs us. Let me pack.”
“What about work?”
I shake my head. “Nothing is more important than Stacey and her family right now. The team will look after it all.”
“Okay. I’ll pick you up on the way.”
“Thanks, babe. Love you.”
“Love you, too, D,” she says, hanging up.
I run around grabbing my bag that I haven’t yet unpacked from Hawaii, and tip its contents onto the bed. Then I just start grabbing things, not really noticing what I am putting in. I’m on autopilot. I quickly send texts to my team and let them know about the emergency, and then I look down at Charlie’s last message to me. Fuck. I wish he were here now with me, his calm demeanor would really help, and before I know what I am doing, I’m calling him.
“Derrick?” He answers the phone groggily, his voice all deep and scratchy, and it sounds so good. I burst into tears, unable to say anything as grief overwhelms me. “Derrick. D. What’s happened? What’s going on? Are you hurt? Are you safe?” he asks.
