Reckless Abandon (November Blue, #2)(65)

neck. Josh squats next to us and hugs us both before walking to Regan.

Regan tells us that despite wearing a helmet, Rae suffered extensive internal injuries when she hit the ground. She lacerated her

liver and succumbed to internal bleeding. She never regained consciousness after her fall.

“I’m going to go back to Bo’s house with him today if he’ll let me. I can’t let him go home alone—will you guys come?” I tie

my hair back and rub the remainder of smudged mascara from under my eyes.

“Of course.” Monica eyes Josh, who nods in response.

“Regan, come with us,” I encourage, “you can’t be alone either.”

“I’ll come.” He leans back and rests his head against the wall.

“Ms. Harris?” A nurse quietly enters the room.

“Yes?” I sniff as I stand, wiping my eyes.

“Mr. Cavanaugh wants to see you, will you come with me?” I stare into the hallway, not wanting to go into whatever room Bo was

just in with Rae. With her body. “It’s OK, honey.” Her face tells me they’ve already moved her body to the morgue.

I walk out of the grief room, and hear Josh confidently lead Regan and Monica in a prayer. Suddenly, his religious upbringing isn’

t so funny anymore. The nurse takes my hand as we head through the large double doors.

“Is David Bryson down here as well?” We walk slowly down an impossibly long hallway.

“No, he went down to address the media.”

“Oh.” I still can’t wrap my mind around the fact that my surrogate sister, and Bo’s only living family, is now gone. Forever.



Bo is sitting in an empty room that holds an end table and a couple of chairs. It’s like the grief room, only smaller. His

bloodshot eyes look up as the door closes behind me; the nurse has left. His skin is ashen, lifeless. I stand in front of him and

take his hands. For some reason I don’t want him to see me cry, so I look down, trying to blink away tears. They drop on his jeans

one by one, and I collapse into his lap, failing to silence my whimpering.

“Oh my God, Bo ...” I pull his forehead to my shoulder and stroke my fingers through the back of his hair.

“What am I going to do?” he wails into my collarbone.

I slide my hands to his face and pull it away from me, staring into his eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” Tugging him toward me, I kiss him with what little energy I have left. He kisses me back

and we sit for a long time with our lips locked and noses touching. I learn in an instant that sorrow isn’t the absence of

passion. Sorrow is the darkest, most intense form of passion hidden in the recesses of the human spirit.



*



It took about an hour for me to urge Bo to leave the hospital. It wasn’t until the funeral home arrived and took Rae’s body that

he walked in a daze to my car. Josh and Monica are just behind us with Regan in theirs. We pull up to the gated driveway, and Bo

reaches for the door handle.

“No, I got it.” I squeeze his hand, get out, and enter the code. Bo’s phone has been ringing since before we left the hospital.

It’s ringing again as I get back in.

“Ainsley keeps calling.” His voice is nearly gone.

“Do you want me to answer?”

He shrugs, so I answer.

“Hi Ainsley, it’s November.” The large white house comes into view; it looks haunted now.

“Where’s Bo?” she’s sobbing.

“He’s home. I just brought him back to the house.”

“I’ll be right over.”

Bo hears her through the phone and shakes his head.

“Ainsley, he’s asking that people wait until tomorrow before they contact him,” I lie. “He’s exhausted and I’m sure it’s

going to be hell to try to sleep, but he’s got to try.” Bo squeezes my knee in thanks as Ainsley hangs up without a word.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

I clear my throat. “Stay in the car for a minute, OK? Is your house unlocked?”

He nods and doesn’t question me. I close the door and hold up a finger to Josh; he nods back. Turning the knob slowly, I take a

deep breath before stepping into Bo’s house. I glance around the entryway and adrenaline splashes over me. In a whirlwind of

tears, I gather Rae’s coats, shoes, bags, etc. and race them up to her room. I don’t look around her room when I get there—I

just hold my breath and toss the items on her bed, shutting the door behind me when I leave. Rushing through the dining room and

kitchen, I rapidly collect any liquor bottles I find and place them in a box in the mudroom off the kitchen to be dealt with when

Bo’s asleep.

After a quick run through the house, I open the front door and find Regan standing outside Josh’s car smoking a cigarette. I don’

t think he usually smokes, but I’d kind of like a cigarette too, to be honest. Bo’s empty eyes lead him out of the car and plod

him up the front steps.

“I don’t know if I can go in there, Em.” He stares at the front door.

“It’s OK,” I take his hand, “we can go in when you’re ready. If you want to go in by yourself—”