He’d spent the night in the hospital to avoid rotting in a jail cell. Oliver looked at the clock; it was just after seven in the morning. That would make it three a.m. in Sydney. Fuck it, his brother would have to understand.
“Who died, mate?” Tom, Oliver’s brother, asked.
“Tom, I need your help.”
Oliver explained what had happened.
“How badly hurt is the sheila?”
“I don’t know. They had to cut her out of the car, and there was blood everywhere.”
“Were you pissed?” Tom asked.
“I was over the legal limit. What I want to know …”
Oliver began.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes, but …”
“Do. You. Trust. Me?”
“There’s no one I trust more, but …”
“No buts. We’re done with the buts and the whys and the stories. Whatever else comes out of your mouth this morning better not be a question,” Tom said.
Oliver knew that when his brother sounded like this, he was dead serious, and Oliver should listen.
“The coppers will be there soon to take you in. You need to be gone,” Tom said. “Go home only long enough to pack a bag and grab your passport, then take the train to San Francisco. Once there, lie low while I talk to the rellies to arrange to get you out of the States.”
Oliver guessed that Tom would call their uncle because he was swimming in it and had places all over the world.
He figured he could hide out for a while until everything cooled down.
“Good on ya, mate. I owe you,” Oliver said and hung up.
Tom would come through for him.
◊◊◊
David had spent the night in the uncomfortable waiting room. He’d made arrangements for Roy Tyro, the owner of Lincoln Flight School, to fly Cassidy’s dad and brother in.
His mom had agreed to have them stay with his family at the Malibu house and to have transportation once they arrived.
Brook Davis was also flying in.
Pam and Tracy, Cassidy’s roommates, had called when they saw the alert. David had told them to get a good night’s sleep and come in the morning.
He was zoning out when Pam sat down next to him.
“Coffee?”
She handed it to him.
“Ahh, the nectar of my people.”
Tracy chuckled as she sat down next to Pam.
“Tell us,” Pam ordered.
“Cassidy had three surgeries overnight. One to relieve the pressure on her brain and another to stop some internal bleeding in her gut. They also worked on her arm, but I was told what they did was only temporary. They’ll need an orthopedist and a vascular surgeon to fix it.”
“What about rowing?” Pam asked.
“I don’t know,” was David’s honest answer and biggest fear.
He’d seen how messed up Cassidy’s arm was when they pulled her out of the wreck. When the first doctor came out to give him an update, he’d said they might have to take
the arm, but David was adamant that they not do that until her dad got there. He had Brook looking for the best surgeons to give Cassidy a chance at using the arm again.
Both bones in her left forearm were broken in multiple places, and the flesh looked like someone had taken a meat mallet to it. The doctor thought he might have to take the arm because he was afraid they might not be able to return proper circulation if the veins were compromised. They did what they could, but soon, another surgery—maybe more than one—would be needed to deal with the bones and circulatory system.
“We’re sending you home to get some sleep. We promise to call you with any updates,” Tracy said.
“If you need anything, call my mom or dad,” David said as he got up to leave.
◊◊◊
“Where the hell is Dawson?” Jason Merritt asked his offensive coordinator, Wyatt Thomas.
“He left a message. Last night, Oliver Shaw was driving while drunk and had a serious car accident. Cassidy Hope was in the passenger seat and is in critical condition.”
“Jesus. Was Shaw hurt?”
“They held him overnight for observation, but David said he should be okay,” Wyatt said. “David spent the night at the hospital. I guess Cassidy needed several emergency surgeries. He’s gone home to get some sleep.”
“This couldn’t have come at a worse time. Give David today to get his head straightened out, but he has to be at practice Monday.”
“Should I have Amy reach out to him? She’s a psychologist, after all.”
“Good call. If anyone can get David focused, it’s Amy,”
Jason said. “Let’s get the other quarterbacks in here. One of them might have to step up and take David’s place.”
“What about Matt?” Wyatt asked.
“Long is suspended, and I’m not about to make an exception just because David flakes out. Hell, we’ll just hand the ball off and still win the UNLV game.”
“I’ll get them in here.”
As the interim head coach, Jason was already under a ton of pressure. He felt bad for David’s friend, and the team loved her, but he didn’t have the luxury of letting his feelings get in the way of his job. His job was to win football games … period.
◊◊◊
David hovered somewhere between asleep and awake, too afraid to face the realities this day would bring. The sun streamed through his window, warm on his face. He glanced over at the clock; he’d slept five hours, so it was mid-afternoon.
He closed his eyes, and when he couldn’t avoid it any longer, David opened them again. It took a moment as he got the sleep out of his eyes, but they finally snapped into super-sharp-high-def, and he took a deep breath as he shoved his sheets to the side.
“Get up,” David said to himself, knowing that if he slept any more, he’d never get to sleep tonight.
He put on a pair of shorts and went out into the living area. Alex was in just boxers, obviously embracing a college Sunday before school started.
“What smells so good?” David asked.
“Crystal stopped by and brought you something to eat. I was told that if I touched it, she would come in during the middle of the night and cut my nuts off.”
David opened the bag and was impressed that Alex had shown so much self-restraint. The bag held an Italian beef sandwich, a cup of hot giardiniera, and fries. Plus, it was all still warm.
“Split it with me?” David asked.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Alex said as he jumped up and grabbed plates and a couple of sodas out of the fridge.
“You want to cut it?” David asked.
“Why does that matter?”
“Because in my family, whoever cuts it has to let the other person pick their half. My mom made up that rule so my brother and I wouldn’t fight,” David explained.
“Whatever, I trust you.”
David carefully measured it out and sliced the sandwich down the middle. He gave Alex his half while he put the spicy Italian relish on his half and took a big bite—heaven.
As he ate, David called Tracy.
“Any word?”
“They put her into an induced coma,” Tracy shared.
“Why would they do that?” David asked.
“For the bleeding in the brain. The doctor explained that it helps with ‘burst suppression.’ The brain goes completely quiet for several seconds, alternating with very short bursts of activity. The brain’s quiet period gives it vital time to rest and heal.”
David’s appetite was suddenly gone, so he handed Alex his fries.
“How bad is she?” David asked.
“The doctor said she’s in good shape, and they think she’ll come out of it just fine. But the healing process will take some time.”