That Girl (That Girl, #1)(59)

“You won’t have to, Lincoln,” Dad promises.

Levi grips my hand as Dad pulls into the hospital entrance labeled ‘EMERGENCY.’

“We’re both here for you, Lincoln,” Levi reassures me.

“She hates Dallas,” I tell him.

“What?” Levi furrows his brows, puzzled.

Dad joins my other side as we walk into the hospital.

“Oakley hates Dallas. I’ve brainwashed her, and she’s an all-defense kind of girl. Just thought you should know.” It seems important to me that he know.

An officer meets us at the front desk and ushers us back to a narrow hallway.

“I know this is hard, but we need you to identify the deceased first. The other girl was raced back to the OR. It’s a miracle she still has a pulse. Both bodies were found on highway 25. It looks as if one was on foot and the other driving. The driver was ejected.”

“No. No. No, Dad, I can’t do this. I can’t.” I look around, frantic to find an exit.

“I’ll go, Lincoln. I’ll go. You stay here with Levi,” Dad says.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

I watch my dad vanish behind a door and bury my head in my lap. All night, I’ve kept my fear and rage in, all night while I waited for any word or beacon of hope. All motherf*cking night, and now I have to sit on my ass and wait for my dad to ID the corpse of my Oakley.

Unable to control my anger any longer, I stand and begin beating the shit out of the walls and ripping down pictures. I feel Levi try to restrain me, but I push him to the ground. My fist flies through the sheetrock walls not once, but several times. I lose track as the rage boils out of me. Each time I land a punch, it’s my mom’s face, or Duane’s, or any cocksucker who has ever hurt Oakley.

“Lincoln,” someone screams.

This time I feel several sets of hands on me, and I end up on the ground cradled in my dad’s arms. He’s violently shaking his head, but too breathless to speak. Tears roll down his cheeks, and he trembles.

“It’s not her. Lincoln, it’s not her in there.”

I feel a small poke in my arm and turn my head to see a nurse giving me a shot. The last words I hear are my dad’s.

“They’ve confirmed the girl in surgery has scars on her palm and her neck and a tattoo on the top of her foot. Oakley’s in surgery.”

The room spins round and round. I feel my head begin to slowly slip off my shoulders, and I jump.

“Go to sleep, Lincoln.”

Closing my eyes, I feel Oakley’s soft body under my right arm with ESPN playing in the background and music on the iPod. I feel, hear, and smell it all.

My eyelids are heavy, and the more I try to force them open, the heavier they become.

“Thank you for the update, doctor.”

It’s my dad’s voice. Update? Oakley, it’s about Oakley.

Struggling through the sedative to sit up straight, I demand answers.

“Lincoln, I will tell you everything, but you can’t lose it again.”

“Dad, talk to me,” I plead.

“Oakley was hit by a car. Your mother admitted to everything. Bringing Oakley’s parents to town and hiring someone to make her disappear if she refused to leave with her parents. The plan was all messed up when Oakley ran, so the getaway driver tried following her and ended up hitting her. She’s out of surgery.”

“Goddammit, Dad, f*cking tell me! Is she going to live?”

“Son, they don’t know. She’s sustained so many serious injuries the surgeons don’t even know how she survived the operation. Lincoln, it’s not a day by day scenario right now, it’s more like an hour by hour case. Every hour she hangs on is proof of her fighting to live.”

“There’s more,” Levi adds.

“What? Fucking tell me everything.” I’m not sure I can take any more, but I have to know.

“She lost the baby,” my dad says.

“Baby?” I say, confused.

“She was seven weeks pregnant.”

“Baby,” I repeat.





Epilogue





Lincoln



Life is a funny creature. Once you think you have everything figured out, and clear sailing is all you can see in your future, life throws you a curveball, and no matter how fast or slow it comes at you, you have to decide in a split second if you’ll catch it or allow it destroy you. The best day of your life becomes your worst. Your friends become your enemies, and your family evolves into the monsters under your bed, yet it was supposed to be your brightest hour. The day you make it in the history books. The day you make a name for yourself, separating yourself from the pack. Yet it’s the day that destroys you.

This is how I felt the day I lost Oakley Ann.

I slowly had to let go of all our memories and everything we shared together. It nearly destroyed every single part of me. Watching her fight to survive and experience new surroundings without having panic attacks were the brightest moments of my life. Those memories far outweigh any victory or interception on the field.

The day finally came, and I had to let Oakley go forever. I had to give up all hope of ever seeing her jump up and down in her seat waving a bag of f*cking cotton candy at me. I’d never hear Oakley Ann lecturing me about football using all the wrong terms, but listening to her anyway without correcting her.