“He threw the first punch. I was just defending myself.”
Libby looked from me to the lawyer and shook her head. But Julia began to laugh.
“Some things never change,” she said.
“What’s going on?” Libby asked. “Where’s JT?”
And that’s when my cellphone rang.
Chapter 19
Penelope
My head was spinning. I was driving as fast as I could without ending up in the hospital myself. Maneuvering around slow moving cars, honking my horn almost continuously to make these idiots get out of the way. Didn’t they know that my world was collapsing around me? Didn’t they know I needed to get to the hospital before...before what?
Nick wasn’t particularly specific in his phone call.
It’s JT. We’re at the hospital. It’s bad, Penny.
It’s bad. Nothing else. No details about what happened, no specifics about his injury. Just that it was bad.
I told him to stay home. I told him that I needed to know where he was all day. I told him that if he left, he should send me a text. He didn’t.
My hands were shaking as I took a sharp left turn, causing the car to skid a little to the right. I needed to slow down. I needed to catch my breath. But how could I do that when I didn’t know what was happening to JT?
I felt like I should call someone. But who? Everyone I cared about was already at the hospital.
And then Harrison’s face flashed in front of my eyes.
Shit, shit, shit!
What would he do when he heard about this? Would he use it against me, bar me from ever seeing JT again? But then I realized that I was being selfish. Harrison was JT’s biological father, and I’d just signed over all my rights over JT to him. I had to call him. I had to let him know what was going on.
I pulled into the hospital parking lot and pulled the car to a stop haphazardly, taking up more than one parking spot. I took a deep breath and pulled out my phone to bring up Harrison’s number from my call log.
My heart was pounding as I listened to the hollow rings that I knew were no representation of the ring tone Harrison’s phone played each time someone called. He preferred a popular pop song whose title I couldn’t remember at the moment. Which was just great because I knew it would bother me…
“Penelope? Where are you?”
For a second I thought he already knew about JT. He sounded almost relieved to see my number on his phone.
But then I realized he couldn’t know. I didn’t tell Jack, and Nick never would have called him. The only way he could know would be if Susan had called him, but she wouldn’t do that. Would she?
“Penelope?”
“There’s been an accident,” I said slowly. “JT’s at the university hospital here in Lubbock.”
He didn’t even hesitate. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Was it stupid that I felt as though an immense burden had just been lifted from my shoulders?
The ER was exceptionally busy. I walked in and paused in the doorway to search for a familiar face. Then I saw Nick - dear, sweet Nick - leaning against a wall. One of JT’s friends, Sean, was there, too, with his mother.
“What happened? Where’s JT?”
Nick stepped forward and grabbed her by the shoulders. “He’s in with the doctors.”
“What happened?” I demanded again.
“It was my fault,” Sean said, his low and broken. “I thought it would be funny. I didn’t see the car until it was too late.”
“Car?”
Panic was building inside of me, threatening to turn me into a hysterical shrill.
A car? JT was hit by a car?
“I skipped class because JT wanted to hang out. We were skateboarding down 4th street and this car came out of nowhere…”
“Oh, God!”
I doubled over. If Nick hadn’t been there to catch me, I might have hit the ground. He pulled me against his chest and walked me a little distance away from the Wallaces.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Nick said. “He hit his head and scraped up an arm. Might have a few broken ribs, too.”
“You said—”
“I know. I shouldn’t have said that.” Nick lifted my chin, forcing me to look at him and the expression in his eyes wasn’t reassuring. “It’s his leg, Penny. The car hit him just right and…” He stopped, but the horror that came into his eyes made ice spread from the pit of my stomach throughout the rest of my body.
“The Monroe family?”
I turned and found myself facing an exhausted doctor. He made an impatient gesture, pulling me away from Nick and the others to a quiet section of the hallway outside the exam rooms.
“I’m Dr. Campbell,” he said, not even looking at me. He was studying an iPad in his hands. “We’ve sent the boy up for x-rays. At the moment, I can tell you he likely has a concussion and a broken rib. The right wrist is a little bruised and will require a brace for a few weeks.”
“And the leg?”
He looked up. “We’ve called in an orthopedic surgeon. He will evaluate it and come speak to you.”
He started to walk away.