Falling to Pieces (16 page)

I heard him just fine, but as Kiernan had pointed out to me before, hearing and listening were two different things. I wasn’t so sure about the second. And believing? Well, that was something else entirely.

Before I could even hope to unjumble my thoughts, the door burst open, bathing us in light. Caulder wasn’t gone long enough to reduce DJ to the puddle he’d promised, but he’d definitely gotten a few more blows in. The knuckles on his right hand were raw and puffy, but otherwise, he looked alright.

“No more favors.” The anger I’d caught a glimpse of inside ha
dn’t drained from Caulder one ounce, and it was a frightening sight as he stalked toward us.

“Enough
, man. She’s shaking like a leaf.” Kiernan’s hands rubbed up and down my arms, trying to bring me some comfort. It was useless. I was riding high on a crippling combination of fear, exhaustion, and adrenaline overload.

The hard edge
melted away from Caulder’s face, but the frown remained intact. I couldn’t look at it anymore. I’d dragged them both out at night, got them tangled up in what I was certain was illegal activities, and got Caulder into a fight, all because of me. I buried my face in Kiernan’s chest as a silent sob shook me.

“How did you end up in this mess, anyway?” The soft quality to
Caulder’s voice was so foreign, I almost didn’t recognize it.

“I—” Sniffling the tears into submission,
I borrowed Kiernan’s coat to dry my painfully chapped cheeks. “I owed him. He did me a favor.”

“What kind of favor?” Kiernan’s
arms slid around my back, offering support to my wobbly legs.

“I had to pick my mom up at a bar. She passed out on the ride home and it was too cold to leave her in the car all night. I didn’t have enough gas to run the heater that long.
So I asked DJ to help me get her upstairs.”

“Let me get this straight.”
Cauder folded his arms and leaned back against Kiernan’s car hood. “You had to go out alone, at night, to get your drunk mother and drag her ass back here. And then that asshat had the nerve to demand a favor in return for helping you get her inside?”

“Pretty much.”

“Like I said, no more favors.”

Next time, don’t be so—

“Jade . . .” Kiernan tipped my face back toward him. “What he means is, if you ever need help, call me. Anything. Any time. You call
me,
okay?”

“Or me. If Kiernan can’t make it . . . for any r
eason, you call me. Kiernan will give you my number. One of us will always be around.”

I lifted my head just high enough to spy
Caulder over Kiernan’s shoulder. The brothers shared a meaningful look I couldn’t begin to understand, but there was love and gratitude in it. Something I was feeling in abundance, at the moment. “Thank you. Both of you.”

“I mean it.” Kiernan brushed aside my hair to plant a warm kiss on my forehead. “Any time, any reason. All you got
to do is call.”

“I’m sorry I got you mixed up in this mess.”

“Don’t be. You needed help. You called. That’s exactly what I want
you to do. I
want
to help you, Jade. You just have to let me.”

At some point during our exchange,
Caulder had climbed back inside the car, affording Kiernan and me some degree of privacy.

“
It’s late. I should get home.”

Kiernan scowled up at DJ’s building, and then across the lot at my own. “I’m guessing it wouldn’t go over well if I asked you to come home with me tonight?”

“Probably not.”

Kiernan sighed. “Okay.”
His fingers blazed a path down my arms until they entangled with my own. “You go straight upstairs and lock your door. If anyone comes knocking, you call me. Right away. I don’t care if it’s the little old lady from next door looking to borrow a cup of sugar, you do not answer it.”

“There is no little old lady next door.” His concern warmed me, but it also brought back some of the fear that had eased in his arms.

“Not the point, Jade.”

I already knew that. I got the point loud and clear. “I know. I’ll call. I
swear.”

“Thank you.” The words had barely passed his lips before they found mine. Above us a street lamp buzzed and popped, as though it could feel the electricity zinging between us the way
that I could. “I love you.” His lips softly brushed mine, once more. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re going to have to explain why you keep apologizing for loving me.”

“I will. I promise. But not tonight.”

Sixteen

“
Are you
kidding me
?” Kiernan stood there holding the door open, while I gawked at the sign in awe. “A writing workshop?
Really
?”

“It’s your passion, isn’t it?”

“
Yes!
” I practically screeched as I threw my arms around his neck, causing him to let go of the door so he could keep us both from falling. “I can’t believe you did this!”

I’d
always wanted to attend a real workshop, but I’d never had the chance . . . or the money. I’d even heard about this one on some of the blogs I followed at school. It was being run by a literary professor turned indie author who was going to talk about the processes of story building and self-publishing, among other things. Although I knew I’d never have the guts to let another person read my work, I was intrigued, nonetheless.

“Call it an early Christmas present.”

“It’s not even December, yet.” I had no idea why I was arguing this. I’m pretty sure if Kiernan’s arms hadn’t been wrapped so snugly around me, I would have floated off to Cloud Nine.

“Then call it whatever you want.
It was totally worth it for that right there.”

He got this look in his eye and
I backed up to allow him to open the door again. “What?”

“That look on your face. I
do believe you’re glowing.”

I felt my cheeks heat and ducked my head as I passed him inside. The whole glowing thing was entirely possible. I was
that
excited. And
that
much of a dork. But Kiernan didn’t seem to mind. From the ridiculous grin on his face as he followed me in, I’d even go as far as to say he liked it.

The room was organized to look somewhat like a classroom. A worn couch was pu
shed into a corner, making room for two rows of tables with two chairs at each. Many were already occupied, so I was glad to find a vacant one near the back. Almost everyone had notebooks and papers scattered in front of them, pouring over their current works-in-progress, but not having the slightest idea what Kiernan was up to until about ten seconds earlier, I hadn’t thought to bring mine. Not that it mattered in the least. I was bouncing in my plastic seat with excitement when a tall blonde strolled up to the front of the room and introduced herself.

She discussed everything from opening scenes, to plot holes, character backgrounds, to story arcs
, stopping after each portion to give us a chance to work them out for our individual projects as she made rounds answering questions. I kept my head down and started plotting out a new idea I’d had rolling around my brain for some time, while Kiernan watched me with poorly concealed amusement.

When the workshop wrapped up a soli
d three hours later, the instructor offered to stick around and answer any other questions people had. Left to my own devices, I would have taken the million questions I had on the tip of my tongue to the grave before risking looking like an idiot in front of an actual author. But Kiernan insisted I get in line to talk with her. Given that we were there on his dollar and he’d just spent three hours of his Saturday afternoon listening to someone talk about something he had absolutely no interest in for me, I couldn’t exactly refuse.

I was third in line, listening to the conversati
on taking place in front of me—making mental notes on how not to sound foolish—when I glanced over at Kiernan just in time to see him collapse. His body hit the tiled floor with a loud slap that drew the attention of almost everyone in the room. And if that hadn’t done it, the ear-splitting scream that tore from me when he began convulsing finished the job.

“Kiernan!” Dropping to my knees, I reached for his flailing hand as others crowded around us.

“Don’t touch him!”

“Back up!”

“Watch his head!”

Voices chorused all around me.

I was pulled away as someone slipped a couch cushion beneath his head.
I heard someone else call 9-1-1, and everything felt as though it were moving in slow motion as the seizure came to an end and Kiernan lay there, limp and unconscious.

The hands restraining me let go and I flew to his side. “Kiernan? Kiernan, wake up. Look at me. Kiernan. Please. Kiernan?”

Oh, God, what was happening to him? I clutched his hand with all my strength, terrified someone would try to pull me away again.

Time seemed to catch up with itself
and catapult forward as a siren wailed outside and a uniformed man and woman rushed in, wheeling a stretcher between them. Most everything after that was a blur.

I vaguely remember watching them load him into the back of the ambulance. I remember getting in after him and sitting on a bench that ran against the side wall, watching as they poked and prodded him, jotting down numbers on a clipboard and reading them off into some kind of
handheld radio. Rapid fire questions were shot my way. None of which I could answer besides his name and address.

His cellphone was passed off to me when it fell from his pocket and I, at least, had the presence of mind to look up his
home number and call his mom, though I can’t recall anything that was said between us.

My whole body was shaking by the time they unloaded the stretcher from the back of the ambulance and I followed him through the emergency room doors. A nurse directed me toward the waiting room and I nearly panicked when
I lost sight of Kiernan.

Mrs. Parks was already there, arguing with a woman behind the desk. I started toward her when my legs gave out. Prepared for the impact of the hard floor, I was startled when two strong arms scooped me up and placed me back on my feet.

“Whoa there. You al
right?” Caulder steadied my shoulders until he was sure I could hold myself up again.

“I-I don’t know what happened. We were talking and one m-minute he w-was fine and the n-next . . . H-he just . . . I don’t
kn-know what happened.”

“
Shh. It’s okay.” His hand traveled lightly up and down my back pulling me closer to his side, as though he were afraid I may drop again. “Dammit.” Caulder shook his head angrily. “I
told
him. I told him to tell you before something like this happened.”

“Tell me what?” I stared up at
Caulder’s profile, at his clenched jaw. “You knew this was going to happen?”

He shook his head again before finally looking at me. “Take a walk with me. We need to talk. This shit has gone on long enough.”

Threading his fingers through mine,
Caulder marched me over to his mother. “I’m taking Jade for a walk. And I’m telling her. Everything.”

Mrs. Parks’ red rimmed eyes dropped to me with such a sadness in them that it broke my heart. She smiled tightly at
her son and nodded.

The next thing I knew we were out in the parking lot and he was holding open the back door to his car for me.
“I thought we were walking?”

“Too damn cold. Get in. We can sit and talk here.”
Caulder climbed in beside me and leaned over the seat to put the key in the ignition and flip on the heater. When toasty air started to fill the space, he dropped back into the seat and resumed not looking at me.

I fought for patience while a range of emotions flickered over his face, finally landing on anger. “Dammit. It should be Kiernan telling you this. You deserve that much from him, but enough is enough.” Finally his eyes met mine
, and the pain in them matched my own. “I don’t want to be the one to do this, but you need to know. Jade . . . Kiernan’s sick.”

I stared back at him at a bit of a loss. We were sitting outside an emergency room after Kiernan
had been brought there in the back of an ambulance. In my opinion, ‘sick’ was a bit of an understatement.

Caulder
seemed to understand my confusion. “I’m not talking flu sick. He’s . . .” His chest expanded on a deep breath and then seemed to deflate entirely. “He’s terminal.”

The word struck like a hot needle to my mind. Painful, sharp, and unexpected. “What?”

“He has a brain tumor. They found it a little over a year ago. It’s cancerous.”

“I don’t . . . Can’t . . .” My brain was misfiring on all levels, incapable of stringing together a competent thought. “Can’t they just cut it out?”

“They tried. They tried everything. For months it was endless tests and procedures. They finally decided it was inoperable.”

It was like his words were slowly unlocking a vault of information I was desperately trying to hold closed because I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to hear this. It couldn’t . . . couldn’t be true.

“Are—?” Tears clogged my throat making it painful to speak. My heart and body were working together to keep me from asking what I already knew. “Are you saying—?” A sob erupted and I choked it back. “Kiernan’s going to die?”