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When I finally hit the fourth floor, I yank the door open and fly into the hallway, my head whipping left and right, searching for a familiar face.
When I don’t see one, I settle on the only other thing I can think of.
“Uncle Rob,” I yell, ignoring all the scowling faces looking back at me.
“Sir,” a nurse says from behind a desk about twenty feet ahead of me.
“Uncle Rob,” I yell again, and the sound of the stairwell door bursting open propels me forward.
I’m about to shout again when my uncle’s face appears around the corner, eyes red-rimmed and puffy.
“Hey kid, stop!” The officer yells again, quickly approaching. But his steps fall short when he takes in Rob’s face. It’s obvious that he recognizes him.
“Hey, you’re… Robert Kane.”
“I am,” my uncle replies somberly.
In that moment, something flashed in the officer’s eyes, and there was a look of sympathy and understanding passed between the two of them.
“Did he cause any accidents?” Uncle Rob asks.
“No.”
“Then can we please discuss this later?” he asks, and the officer takes a step back, raising his hands in apology as he shakes his head.
“Don’t worry about it. This time. My condolences.”
The officer turns and leaves, but I whip my head back toward my uncle, panic rising in my chest.
“Condolences? Why would he offer his condolences? Uncle Rob, where’s Tommy?” I ask, my limbs shaking uncontrollably now.
“Bodhi, have a seat,” his voice breaks, and I shake my head as one tear falls from his eyes.
“No… no.” My lips tremble and I stare back at him in disbelief. “Where’s Tommy? Uncle Rob, where’s my brother?”
“I’m so sorry, Bodhi.”
I stare back, wide eyed, tears streaming down my face.
“No,” I whisper between gritted teeth, grabbing a hold of my uncle’s suit jacket and twisting it in my fists.
He pulls me into him, holding my shaking body against his, lending me what little strength he has left.
“Noooo…” I sob uncontrollably into his chest.
He holds me the way I always wished my father would. Comforting me, even though there is absolutely no way of fixing this.
My brother is gone… Tommy is dead.
Chapter 1
“Would you pit, God dammit?”
“I’m not fucking pitting, Art; there are ten laps left,” I shout into the microphone attached to my helmet.
“If you don’t pit now, you won’t make those ten laps,” my crew chief, Arthur, yells out.
I know I shouldn’t goad the man; his blood pressure is high enough as it is, but there is only one car between me and Lacey. There is no way I’m willing to pit and lose a single second, and I tell him this.
