Boys South of the Mason Dixon (South of the Mason Dixon #1)

Luke Monroe

STANDING OUTSIDE THE barn, I heard Charlotte screaming hysterically. I think I died a thousand deaths in that moment. The terrified sound coming from my wife was unlike anything I’d ever witnessed. The time it took for me to run from the barn to the house seemed forever although it was only seconds. My whole world was is that house. With each foot I got closer to the house, I knew I wasn’t ready to face what was awaiting me inside.

Bursting through the door, I found Charlotte bent over my daughter’s limp body doing CPR. For a second, my vision went blank. I quickly moved her out of the way and took over.

“Ambulance is on its way,” she wailed. “She was just standing there when she suddenly went pale and collapsed. I thought she’d fainted. But her heart,” Charlotte let out a loud sob. “Oh, God, please don’t take our baby. Please, God, please,” she begged as I continued doing chest compressions to get Dixie’s heart beating again. My own seemed to have stopped. My baby girl was lifeless under my hands. No parent should ever have to experience this.

The siren came, but I didn’t stop. I heard Charlotte run to the door, screaming at them to hurry. I just kept pressing on her chest, begging her heart to start beating. I wasn’t letting my girl die. She was too young and so full of life. This wasn’t happening.

I felt hands on my shoulders trying to move me back, but I fought against them. “No! She needs me!” I screamed.

“Luke, let them save her,” Charlotte pleaded. “Please, save her!” she cried out at the EMTs who were now using a defibrillator on Dixie. Right there on our living room floor.

“It’s beating,” One man yelled as another moved her to a stretcher.

“Life Flight is here,” another said.

I ran after them as they hurried my baby out the door and to the helicopter that had landed in my front yard.

I saw the Sutton boys running up the hill just as they were loading Dixie onto the helicopter.

“We’re taking her to Memorial,” a woman explained to me and hurried in behind them.

“We can give you a ride in the ambulance. It will be quicker,” the man who had moved me off Dixie offered.

Charlotte was weeping uncontrollably. I turned to her only to realize my own vision was blurred from tears. What had just happened?

“Mr. and Mrs. Monroe, are you ready to leave?”

I couldn’t move. My little girl was unconscious and being taken to a hospital in a helicopter. “What happened?” I asked, shaking my head in confusion.

“We don’t know yet. But they will soon.”

Charlotte buried herself against my chest, her sobs turning into full body shakes.

“What happened?” Asher Sutton roared from nearby, his face void of color and the same terror running through my veins mirrored in his own eyes.

“We need to go. Get you there as soon as possible,” the EMT insisted.

“They need to get to their daughter, so we’re going to have to ask you all to move back,” the man said addressing the Sutton boys who all stood behind Asher, looking stricken.

Climbing into the back of the ambulance, I felt like I wasn’t in my body anymore. It felt like I was hovering above, watching all this unfold. This couldn’t be real. This wasn’t happening. I heard Asher Sutton demanding answers and pleading for some hope. I heard them give him the hospital name before the doors to the ambulance closed and the sirens started to howl.

Never had I felt so helpless.



Charlotte Monroe

I had just finished cleaning up the breakfast table when I realized that Dixie hadn’t come down as early as she normally did on work days. I’d called up to her and she’d said she’d be down in a minute. When she walked into the living room, her face looked ashen and her eyes tired.

“Are you sick, sweetheart?” I had asked.

She frowned. “I think I might be. I was fine when I woke up, but as soon as I started walking around, I began to feel funny. I feel weak and I can’t take really deep breaths. It’s weird.”

I became concerned. “I hope you’ve not got that flu going around. It’s a nasty stomach one. You may be dehydrated. Let me get you some juice. Sit down. I’ll call the salon and let them know you’re not well.”

She nodded. “Okay.” But she didn’t move. Her eyes appeared to lose focus as she stared at me. As if they were suddenly empty.

Then she’d just collapsed right there. On the floor.

I closed my eyes as the horror of those moments replayed over and over in my head. I’d checked her pulse then and couldn’t find it. If it was there, it was weak. Too weak. The screaming, calling for help, and then working to bring her back all ran together into one horrifying memory. I felt paralyzed by fear.

A loud sob startled me and I felt Luke’s body shudder against mine. He wailed. The sound of pure pain. One that only a parent could feel for his child. His little girl. Another wail ripped through him and I held onto him. He’d been strong. Worked on her heart without pause. Now he was breaking apart and I wasn’t whole myself. We were slowly shattering together.

“My baby,” he sobbed as he held onto me. Tears streamed down my face. This was the first time I’d ever heard my husband cry. I wanted to tell him she would be okay. That she was going to be fine. But I needed someone to tell me that. She wasn’t mine by blood, but she’d been mine by heart for many many years. And if she didn’t make it, she’d take my heart with her, too.





Asher Sutton

BRAY WAS DRIVING. I didn’t remember much about getting in the truck. I heard the EMTs say her heart had stopped and that they didn’t know why. That was all I knew. Nothing more. Then they drove off, leaving me only with the name of the hospital to which they took her.

This didn’t seem real. It was as if I’d been stuck in a nightmare unable to wake up. The horror and fear on her parents’ faces said all I needed to know.

I had to get to that hospital. She wasn’t leaving me. She was too young. Healthy eighteen-year-old girls didn’t need Life Flight. They’d fix this. She’d be fine. She had to be fine.

“Breathe, Ash, Breathe,” Brent said as his hand touched my back. I inhaled sharply and my lungs burned. Similar to the way they did when we were kids and would compete against each other to see who could hold their breath the longest under water. I hadn’t even realized I’d stopped breathing. That was the second time Brent had to remind me.