Page 53 of Penalty Kill

“Sydney, I need and want you in my life.” He leaned down and gently kissed my forehead. “The moment I heard there’d been an accident, all I wanted was to know my sons were okay and to see you. It was the hardest thing in the world waiting to get to you. I realized how impossible it would be to live without you. I can’t... I don’t want to.”

“Brandon.” I closed my eyes. This was too much. Too close to him asking me to stay. He knew this was temporary for me. He knew this was a step toward the future I wanted.

That had changed though. Sometime over the past few weeks, this turned into more than a job or a means to an end. I wasn’t waiting to leave so I could fly off to my next dream.

But that was me. That was who I was. My soul was a wanderer. I couldn’t be in one spot for too long. I couldn’t go from moving where and when I wanted to an instant family.

I knew one day I would leave. We all did. But why did that suddenly seem like the worst thing that could happen?

No.

No.

I couldn’t give up my dream.

“Please, look at me.”

I opened my eyes and blinked back the tears.

“I know we’re not what you planned. I know you wanted to see the world. Live in every country. Explore and experience it all for yourself. I’m not saying you have to give that up. Just adjust it a little. See the world with me. With the boys. Every summer we can go and explore.”

All of this was too much. The pain. The news. His words.

How did I go from taking the boys for a treat to lying broken in a hospital bed?

I couldn’t think about what the doctor told me. It hurt too much. I’d never seriously considered having kids, but now I had no choice. That had been taken from me. Another dream I had to relinquish before it even began. How could he ask me to give up more?

“I want to be alone.” The morphine was kicking in, and I just wanted everything to disappear.

His face fell, but he nodded and left.

I stared up at the ceiling tiles, trying to understand how everything could change in an instant.

Minutes or maybe hours passed before the door opened again. I didn’t bother looking away from the ceiling.

“Hey Sydney,” Emma’s sweet voice whispered. I felt her standing next to me, but there was someone else there too.

“Hey there.”

I glanced over to see Kendall’s smiling face. It was crazy to think that just a handful of weeks ago she was a random barista, and Emma was a cheerful blonde I’d eavesdropped on.

“Brandon told us what happened. I hope that’s okay,” Kendall said carefully.

I didn’t reply. I didn’t care, but that was just another thing out of my control. Another thing to happen to me.

“I have no words,” Emma said with a sigh. “So much was taken from you today. You did everything right. You called the police, you kept the boys calm, you sacrificed yourself for their safety. You should be getting a parade, not lying here in pain.”

“I know we don’t know each other well, but I can relate to the pain and frustration of being laid up in a hospital bed,” Kendall said and lifted her shirt enough to show a raised scar. “I was on dialysis and nearing complete kidney failure. My life was out of my control; everything revolved around my treatment. I know it’s not the same, but I wanted you to know that if you need someone to scream with about the injustice of the world, I’m here for you.”

I smiled briefly. “That does make me feel better.”

“Good. I know how overwhelming it is when you get bad news. It feels like the walls are closing in. It’s like the future you had planned is being ripped away. You try to hold on and grasp at anything familiar. Anything you can control. I’m not telling you to give up or give in, but you will have to accept it.” She grabbed my hand. “It doesn’t have to define you. It doesn't have to control you, but the more you try to fight it, the more pain it causes. You have a lot of friends here who love you. We’re one big, weird, dysfunctional family and you’re a part of that.”

Emma took my other hand. “I can only imagine what’s going through your mind. I know you’re a free spirit, and this may be uncomfortable or even foreign to you, but you have people here. Your people. Let us take care of you.”

She was right. That was incredibly uncomfortable. I didn’t feel like I was really a member of their makeshift family. I hadn’t earned that. I was a loner. A drifter. Sure, I made casual friends with my coworkers or neighbors wherever I went, but once I moved, I never spoke to them again. Never missed them.

This place was different. They were sucking me in. Planting roots around my feet without my consent. Part of me wanted to sink in and let it happen, but how could I forget the dream and desire that had driven me for more than half my life?