“He’s in the ICU.”
“Visiting his real mom?” I struggled to breathe.
I heard her gasp on the other end and realized how insensitive that had come out.
“Sorry—I mean…”
“No, it’s okay. I don’t have time to get offended.” She sniffed. “He is hospitalized. He overdosed.”
“On what?” I screamed into the phone, shooting to my feet, slapping the door open and galloping back in, even though I had no idea where he was or how to find him.
“On everything. Alcohol. Cocaine. Xanax. They’re pumping his stomach right now.” I could hear in her voice that she was trying hard not to break.
“Is he okay?”
“He threw up most of what he’d taken, I think. But there’s no way of knowing how much of it got into his bloodstream.”
“Where are you?” I ran past our families to the other side of the floor, zipping by without acknowledging their existence. Luckily, everyone was too cocooned in their own misery to notice.
“I’m outside his room. They wouldn’t let me in because I’m not…” She paused for a second, taking a ragged, shaky breath, before finishing. “Because I’m not family.”
“Tell me where he is!”
She gave me the directions, and I practically flew there.
Dean couldn’t know this. Neither could Lev. I knew it was a horrible thought when my boyfriend was possibly fighting for his life in the same hospital as his ailing mother, but I loved the entire Cole clan, not just him.
When I got to the room number she had given me, I found her in the hallway. Petite. Blonde. Velvet blue eyes and an ankle-length, unstylish dress I knew she’d get slaughtered for at the haughty Todos Santos Country Club. She was pretty, but looked nothing like Knight. Maybe he looked like his biological father. To be perfectly honest, he very much looked like Dean, even though they weren’t blood-related.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” Her posture was bowed, defeated. Like a wilted flower.
“I’m the girlfriend,” I said breathlessly, sticking my hand in her direction.
“I’m…” she started, biting down on her full lip.
Lips. That’s what Knight had inherited from her. Her luscious, round Cupid lips.
“I don’t know what I am to him.” She put her fist to her mouth, trying to swallow back a sob.
Without meaning to—and perhaps without wanting to, either—I wrapped my arms around her. Having the person who’d brought Knight into this world at my fingertips overwhelmed me with gratitude. As far as I was concerned, she was an ally, even if Knight didn’t see her as one. She’d brought him here, hadn’t she? That was enough for me to give her a chance.
“Dixie.” She sniffed, trying to gather herself together. “I’m Dixie.”
“Where did you find him? Did he call you?”
It made sense. He wouldn’t have wanted to call anyone else with what they were going through with his mom, but Dixie wasn’t wrapped up in that sorrow.
I put my hand on her shoulder and ushered her to the folding chairs lined up against the wall. We both took a seat. Silent tears slid over her cheeks.
“No.”
“No?” I slid my hand from her shoulder to her back, rubbing it. By the way she collapsed against my hand—sobbing harder, yet somehow more silently—I gathered she hadn’t been touched by another human in a long time. A very long time.
“You can tell me,” I whispered.
“This is going to sound crazy to you, probably, but I followed him.”
She pressed a tattered piece of tissue to her nose. Parts of it snowed down to her lap.
“I’ve been following him around for a while—only when he’s alone. Never when he’s with you or with his family and friends. I’m so sorry. I know it’s wrong. But I’m worried. So worried. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I left my job—I’m a secretary in my father’s company—and I’ve been living in a hotel off the promenade for months now. Knight’s been drinking and popping pills every day. He is not okay. He needs help.”
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. I knew Knight had been drinking heavily, but judging by what it had come to, I’d mistaken the severity of the issue. I’d chalked it up to stress from Rosie’s situation escalating. He’d always been eccentric and moody. He was a goddamn teenager, for fuck’s sake. Knight was also good at hiding his vulnerability behind his nonchalant smirk and herculean frame.
“So after you dropped him off at his house—God, I sound pathetic,” Dixie said.
“Please continue.”
To me, it didn’t sound crazy at all. He’d rejected her, but she couldn’t let go. I knew what that felt like, because the same thing had happened to me with Val, but in reverse. If I could’ve followed Val around the world like a lovesick puppy, I would have. If I could have prevented her death, her addiction, nothing would have stopped me.
“Well, after you left, a Mercedes pulled up at the Coles’. Two big guys with gold chains came out. Knight met them at the door. They talked for a minute; then they handed him a small paper bag. When the guys left, I waited for Knight to come out, but he never did. I started calling him. He didn’t answer, which wasn’t out of character for my so…for Knight,” she amended, shaking her head. “But I had a really bad feeling. Call it a mother’s intuition, although if he ever heard me say that, he’d laugh in my face.”
She threw her head back, staring at the ceiling. “The door was unlocked,” she explained. “And I…and I…”
She’d walked in.
This was El Dorado, on a cul-de-sac where everybody knew everybody. Of course the door wasn’t locked. Our parents only locked the doors at nighttime.
“It’s a gated community. How’d you get in?” I scrunched my nose.
“Someone put me on the list.”
“Who?” I pressed.
She looked away, shaking her head.
“I found him lying in a pool of his own vomit in the living room, unconscious. I called nine-one-one, flipped him over, and followed the ambulance with my car. It’s been forty minutes since he got to this room, and they’re not telling me anything. I’m scared for my baby.”
She clutched the tissue in her fist, pressing it to her heart. “I don’t know what I’m going to do if something happens to him.”
“You did the right thing.” I squeezed her thigh, trying to swallow and push the ball of emotion down my throat.
“Thank you, Moonshine. You’ve got such a pretty name. Very unique.”
Blinking at her for a beat, I proceeded to burst out laughing. In the hospital. In the middle of a double-Cole tragedy. Guess it’s true that human nature is programmed to fight. And laughter is the best medicine for almost every problem.
“Luna,” I corrected. “My name is Luna. Knight’s the only one who calls me Moonshine.”
She gave me a tired smile. “Despite everything, it’s nice to meet you, Luna.”
Two hours later, I sat in front of Knight, who lay in a hospital bed just a few hundred feet away from his dying mother.