The Summer We Fell Page 17

  Out of the corner of my eye, a doctor comes into the lobby holding a clipboard. My heart stutters, my head bobbing up. But he heads over to a woman sitting in a white plastic chair. A sob lodges in my throat, my eyes filling with moisture. Where is Cruz’s doctor? Where is his mom and dad? What the hell is going on?

  I breathe deeply, attempting to ward off the panic. But it’s no use. The panic won’t leave until I see Cruz. Until he smiles at me again. Until he speaks. Until I know he’s all right.

  Damn it, I want to kill Julian. How could he put Cruz in this situation?

  Anger hardens my heart, covering it like a shield of armor. He wanted to come with me to the hospital, but I told him to go to hell. I really said that. I yelled, “Go to hell,” and then hopped in the car. It’s not something I’ve ever said to anyone, certainly not one of Cruz’s family members. But I don’t regret it. It’s Julian’s fault, the boy I love more than life itself is fighting for his life.

  Feeling weary, I let out a sigh and then glance around for an open chair. A man and woman enter the hospital, racing through the glass doors. When my gaze connects with them, I sag with relief.

  “Daddy,” I breathe.

  He rushes to me, his arms outstretched. “Oh, Sloane.”

  I step into his arms, tears slipping down my face. The sobs that I held back rush out unabashed. His arms tighten around me. The familiar scent of his musky cologne spin around me, and for the first time since I got here I start to believe everything will be all right. Mom’s hand rests on my shoulder as Dad holds me.

  “It’s going to be okay, princess,” Dad says, calling me what he used to when I was little.

  “Oh, Dad. You should’ve seen him. He didn’t look good at all.” I stare up at Dad’s face. “He couldn’t even respond to me. And there was so much blood.” The panic rises again, cutting off my breath.

  “Shh.” Dad strokes my hair. “It’s all right. He’s in good hands. You did the right thing.”

  “Thank god you’re okay,” Mom speaks softly at my side.

  I hadn’t even thought of that before Mom said something. In fact, I never really felt in danger. I had no doubt Cruz would keep me safe.

  His words fly through my mind. I’ll always help you when you’re scared, Sloane. That will never change.

  I’m scared now. I need him now.

  I clutch my dad around the middle, so grateful he’s here. As he strokes my back with his palm, guilt sinks into my gut. I’ve been so mean to him. And I’ve questioned his love for me. What if it had been me who was shot? What if I’d never had a chance to tell him how I feel? I would die leaving my dad to think I didn’t love him.

  “Dad,” I say softly. “I’m sorry I’ve been so mad lately.”

  “You don’t have to say anything right now,” Dad assures me.

  “I love you, Dad.”

  “Not as much as I love you.” He smiles down at me. “I hope you know that. You’ve always held my heart, my sweet little princess.”

  My lips quiver, my eyes filling with tears. It’s what he used to say when he tucked me in as a little girl. Nestling into his chest, I allow him to hold me.

  “Sloane.”

  My head snaps up at the sound of Annette’s voice. She looks spent, her eyes red and ringed, her hair mussed.

  “Is he okay?” My pulse races.

  She nods. “He’s awake and he’s asking for you.”

  My heart leaps, grabbing her words. He’s awake. He’s awake.

  “Can I see him even though I’m not family?”

  “I worked it out.” Annette reaches for my arm.

  “Thank you,” I whisper, my heart bursting with gratitude.

  “Of course. You’re family to us, my dear.”

  I nod, my emotions raw and sitting right at the surface. After tonight I’m not sure I’ll have any tears left. Annette’s hand folds over mine. I glance at Mom and Dad.

  “We’ll wait right here until you come back,” Dad promises. Mom nods.

  “Okay.” I gather courage as I allow Annette to guide me down the hallway. When we reach Cruz’s room, Annette stops walking and drops my hand.

  She nods to me, and I take a deep breath before stepping into the room. Nothing could prepare me for seeing Cruz like this. If I thought the sight of him bleeding on the ground was bad, this might even be worse. He looks so helpless and frail, lying in the hospital bed hooked up to tubes and machines, a white sterile sheet tucked up to his chin.

  Swallowing hard, I make my way around the bed until I’m standing at his side. Reaching down, I pick up his hand. His eyes pop open and a slow smile spreads across his face.

  “Hey.” His voice is groggy and low, unlike his normal tone.

  “Hey.” My voice wobbles.

  “No crying, Sloane. I’m fine.”

  My gaze lands on the bandage on his shoulder. It’s the only bandage I can find. The rest of him looks unscathed. His skin is a little more pale than normal, and a bruise blooms on his head from where he fell, but other than that he seems fine.

  “Promise?”

  “Yeah. The doctor says I’m going to make a full recovery. The bullet only grazed my shoulder. I guess I got lucky.”

  “None of this was lucky, Cruz. You were shot.” I can’t keep my lips from trembling.

  “But you weren’t,” he says. “That’s why I’m lucky. That’s all I cared about it in that moment. Keeping you safe.”

  “Oh, Cruz, you crazy boy.” I stroke his fingers. “Don’t ever do that again.”

  “I can’t promise that. I will always do whatever it takes to protect you.”

  “Don’t you get it? I can’t lose you, Cruz. I l-” I stop myself, the words I want to say dying on my lips. It was one thing to say them when he was unconscious, but it’s another thing to say them when he’s wide awake.

  “C’mere.” Cruz scoots over, patting the bed next to him.

  “Is it safe?” I stare at all the tubes and IVs.

  “Of course it’s safe. We’ll call it therapy.”

  “Therapy?” I’m skeptical.

  “Having you in my arms is the best medicine there is, Sloane.”

  Convinced, I climb into the bed, careful not to pull on any tubes. My body curves around his, our legs tangling together. I lay my head and hands on his chest, grateful that his injured shoulder is on the opposite side.

  “I’m not hurting you, am I?” I ask.

  “Believe me, this is the best I’ve felt since I got here.” He kisses the crown of my head. “Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

  “Of course. I would do anything for you.” Our fingers intertwine. I wince at the IV in his forearm.

  “What happened to Julian?”

  I stiffen. “He wanted to come here, but I sort of told him to go to hell.” Shame fills me at what I did.

  Cruz chuckles. “Man, I wish I had heard you say that. I can’t even picture it.”

  “You’re not mad?” I can’t bring myself to look at him, so instead I just stare at his hands, at his tanned, slender fingers that make the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard. They are a little dirty and scratched up, probably from the fall, but I’m grateful that his hands aren’t hurt.

  “Why would I be mad at you?”

  “Well, he’s your brother, and I know how much you love him.”

  “Sloane, I would react the same way if someone caused you harm.” His fingers fold over mine. “Because I love you, just like you love me.”

  I freeze. “You heard me?”

  “Yes, I heard you. I tried to respond, but I couldn’t.”

  “I meant it.”

  “I know you did. I mean it too.” His eyelids flutter, lowering over his eyes.

  “You’re tired?”

  He nods. “A little.”

  “I can leave.”

  “No,” he says quickly. “Stay.”

  “Okay.” I snuggle back up to him, not wishing to leave either. Frankly, I wish I could stay here for the r
est of my life. I never want to let go of him again.

  He closes his eyes, his lips curling into a smile.

  “What are you thinking about?” I ask curiously.

  “The best day of my life.”

  “What day was that?”

  “The day I met you, Sloane.”

  I squeeze his fingers as he drifts off to sleep, my mind flying back to the day we met too. Cruz was the cutest little boy, with dark hair and eyes. The day we met he wore a pair of jean overalls and a red shirt. They were both covered in dirt just like the rest of him. My mom had been the one to make me walk across the street and introduce myself.

  I had no idea then that the little boy covered in dirt would one day become the most important person in my life.

  28

  cruz

  When I awake, Sloane is gone and a nurse is checking my vitals. I scour the room, hoping Sloane didn’t leave. Possibly she’s in the restroom, or grabbing a coffee.

  “She’s still here. In the waiting room, I think,” the nurse says, obviously noticing my distress.

  I nod, figuring one of the staff made her leave the room. I should’ve known she wouldn’t leave voluntarily. My heart leaps when I remember how sweet she sounded when she told me she loved me. It wasn’t until she said it that I realized I’ve been waiting for her to say that since the day we met.

  “I’ll let your family know you’re awake,” the nurse says as she walks toward the doorway.

  “Um…can Sloane come back too? The girl who was with me earlier?”

  The nurse smiles. “I’ll see, but I know you have a lot of family members here too.”

  I nod, wondering who else is here besides Mom and Dad. I’m really not in the mood to see Gabe. Then I remember that Mateo and Ella are back from their honeymoon. God, I really don’t feel like a visit from the whole family right now. Honestly, the only people I’m interested in seeing are Mom and Sloane. I have a feeling I won’t get that lucky though.

  Mom sweeps into the room looking tired and disheveled. My heart goes out to her.

  “Hi, mijo.” She stands over my bed, staring down at me with a worried expression. Reaching out, she brushes a chunk of hair off my forehead. “You doing okay?”

  I shrug. “I’ve been better, but under the circumstances, I guess I’m all right.”

  Her eyes darken. “There’s someone here who wants to see you.”

  For one moment I think it will be Sloane, but her serious expression makes me nervous. My gaze flickers to the doorway where Julian stands wearing a black hoodie, his hands shoved into the pockets of his ripped jeans.

  Angry, I narrow my eyes at Mom. “I don’t want to see him.”

  Mom runs a hand over my forehead, the way she used to when I was sick as a child. “Please, Cruz. Just talk to him. I can stay here if you need me.”

  I shake my head. “No, it’s fine. I’m not scared to be alone with him.” My eyes sweep the room. “Unless you owe one of the nurses money. Perhaps I should be watching out for a gunman hiding in the closet.”

  Mom clutches her chest, looking stricken. Julian shakes his head. At least he has the decency to look ashamed.

  “Julian feels terrible,” Mom says.

  “He should,” I say through gritted teeth.

  Julian steps into the room. “Cruz, I know there’s nothing I can do to make this better.”

  “You’re right. There’s not.” I turn my head from him.

  “We used to be close, man,” Julian says.

  His words anger me further. “Yeah, we were, but you changed. You walked away and hurt us all. But you know what? I always defended your sorry ass.” Mom places a gentle hand on my arm to calm me. It sort of works. “But no more. This was the last straw.”

  “I get it. I screwed up really bad.”

  “This was more than a screw up, Julian. You could have gotten Sloane or I killed.” God, when I think about how close Sloane was to being shot it destroys me. It’s even worse when I think that it would’ve been my fault. It would’ve been my brother who caused it.

  “You think I don’t know that, man. You think I don’t already feel like shit.” His voice raises, and he rakes a hand down his face. Lowering his head, he sighs. “I’ve been wanting to get help for a long time, but I didn’t think I could do it. But after tonight, I know I can. I don’t want to hurt anyone else.”

  “What are you saying?” I’m scared to get my hopes up. Julian has said things like this before. He even got clean one time for a few weeks, but then he ended up back on the streets high as a kite.

  “I’m checking into rehab.”

  “Well, I hope it works out for you.” I don’t even bother masking my doubt.

  “I’m serious this time, Cruz.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” I say.

  Mom pats my arm. “We all want to see you get better, Julian.”

  Julian nods. “I’ll be in touch, bro,” he says to me.

  I nod as he heads out of the room.

  Before reaching the door he turns to me. “Oh, and I went to the police. Gave them all the information on the guys who shot you. They’re looking for them now.”

  “Thanks.” I know that had to have been hard for him. I understand now how dangerous those guys are, and the risk it was for him to rat them out.

  After Julian leaves the room, Mom smiles at me. “I’m proud of you, Cruz. You handled that well.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” I lift my head. “Do you think he was serious?” If he was, then my injury wasn’t in vain.

  “Time will tell.” Mom appears cautious, but I see a hint of hope in her eyes. And I cling to that, knowing that if Mom can be optimistic then I can too.

  29

  sloane

  “You’re really going to stay home the rest of the summer, huh?” I ask Regan.

  We’re sitting in the kitchen sipping coffee out of painted ceramic mugs. They’re actually the ones we made for Mom when we were kids for Mother’s Day. Regan’s is better than mine. She took the time to come up with a design. It’s covered in little hearts and swirly lines. I didn’t have the patience to wait on a design or stencil. Instead I painted all the colors I like. That’s why it resembles the color of puke. But whatever. It’s the thought that counts, right?

  “Yeah. I’d like to meet Kacey and work things out with Dad. Besides, what happened to Cruz really rocked me.”

  My eyebrows jump up in surprise. “Really? Why?” I mean, I know she cares about Cruz, but I didn’t think they were that close.

  She shrugs, gazing out the window. “I guess it just reminded me of the fragility of life. About how we never know when we’ll take our last breath.”

  Leave it to Regan to get all deep on me. But I do understand what she’s saying. I’ve thought about that too since the shooting. “Yeah, I get that.” I run a finger around the rim of my coffee cup, thinking about how scared I’ve been since Fourth of July. Every night my dreams have been filled with nightmares. Horrific images of the man with the gun, Cruz’s body lying on the ground, dark blood pooling. I can’t shake the fear and uncertainty that plagues me now, and I’m wondering if it will ever go away. I suspect in some ways it won’t. I’m pretty certain that I’ve been irrevocably changed. At least the men have been arrested. That gives me a little peace. If they were still out there, I’d probably walk around in a panic all the time. Always looking over my shoulder, always wondering.

  “You know,” Regan breaks into my thoughts. “My sophomore year I used to have a crush on Julian.”

  “Yeah. No kidding.” I tease, grateful for the shift in conversation.

  “You knew?” Her mouth falls open.

  I nod. “It was totally obvious.”

  “It was?” She furrows her brows. “Did he know?”

  “I’m sure he did.”

  Regan smiles. “He was so hot.”

  “All the Vargas boys are.” I stare out the window, my gaze landing on their house, and I know Regan’s looking too. It
’s reminiscent of the first time we saw them moving in. All these black haired boys running around the front yard.

  “No kidding, and they definitely know how to turn on the charm.” Regan glances at me. “But I guess I don’t need to tell you that.”

  A grin spreads over my face. “No, you definitely don’t.”

  “You’re like a lovesick puppy, Sloane.” She nudges me. “But I’m happy for you. I really am.”

  “Thanks.” Funny, she’s been less annoying this visit. I’m not sure if it means she’s maturing or I am. Either way, I’m glad that we’re getting along. After emptying my coffee cup, I push away from the table. “I’m gonna head over to Cruz’s for a little bit.”

  Regan stands, waggling a finger at me. “Be good, Sloane.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She raises a brow. “Are you forgetting what I walked in on my first day back?”

  Dear god, she’s put her shrink hat back on again. I guess my earlier assessment was incorrect. “Don’t worry. I’ll wait until his shoulder heals before getting pregnant.”

  “Sloane!” Regan’s eyes widen.

  “I’m kidding. Geez. Lighten up. Besides, I like it better when you’re just being my sister, not my mom.”

  She bites her lip. “Point taken. Go have fun.”

  Smiling, I head out of the kitchen. I race across the street in my bare feet. The asphalt paints the pads of my feet black, but I don’t care. Cruz has seen me dirtier than this, and he still loves me. After knocking a couple of times, the door swings open.

  “Hey, Sloane,” Gabe greets me. “The patient is in the family room.” He shakes his head. “Mom is trying to heal him with sweets.”

  I giggle, the scent of baked goods reaching my nose. “Maybe I’ll have to feign some type of injury too.”

  Gabe laughs. “Yeah, good luck. I’ve been trying that for days.”

  When I enter the family room, Cruz smiles from where he sits on the couch. Regan’s right. The Vargas boys are charmers all right. My heart melts at the sight of him. I sink down onto the couch so close to him that our thighs touch. Just as Gabe said there are brownies and cookies lining the coffee table.