Page 105 of Moto
“Kayla!” Reese follows behind me so close he could be my damn shadow.
“Get away from me, Reese.” I escape into my truck.
“Where are you going?” he demands.
“Away from you! I need some space. Some time to think.” I slam the door and start the engine.
“Kayla!” Reese yanks on the handle, making a spectacle in my driveway. “You can’t leave!”
“Watch me.” I reverse, forcing him to step back or lose a toe.
I drive off, tears blurring my vision, my heart tearing in two.
“Stay with him and you’re condemning yourself to heartbreak.”
Dev was so fucking right. Why didn’t I listen? Reese is sick. He’s hiding his illness, and if the world finds out, he’ll lose everything. But if he keeps racing, I could lose him, and our child could lose their father.
The car steers itself as I pull up to the last place I ever thought I’d find myself. Dev’s black and green bike is parked out front, and the front door is open.
I rush out of my truck and pound on the screen’s metal frame, the tears still dripping from my eyes. Dev appears in the foyer, the look on his face saying it all. He swings the screen door open willingly. “He told you?”
“I found the pills.” I break down, retreating into his arms.
He pulls me inside and holds me close until the sobbing passes. I couldn’t comprehend how much I really missed him until this very second. Until the familiar warmth of his body engulfs mine.
“I am so sorry, Kayla.” He hugs me tighter.
“For what? Being right? For leaving me? Or not telling me?” I ask resentfully.
“All of it.”
“What’s wrong with him?” I look up at Dev, his warm blue pools bathing me in sympathy, regret, remorse.
“Dilated cardiomyopathy. His ventricles aren’t pumping blood the way they should.”
I nearly choke. Working in the cardiac wing of the hospital, I’m familiar with the term and the severity. “How bad is it?”
“It’s getting progressively worse. After years of pushing his body, his heart just can’t take the strain anymore. I try to monitor him as closely as possible, but it’s challenging with him always away.”
A somber realization hits. “That’s why you became a cardiologist, isn’t it? You changed your entire career forhim. And that’s why he was here, in Maryland, wasn’t it? When he got into the accident? He came to see you so you could examine him?”
“It’s true. All of it.” He admits forthrightly. “We worked out a schedule in New York and then when I moved back.”
“Why is your name on his pills?”
“Discreetness,” is his simple reply.
“Who is Dr. Sanders?” I continue with my interrogation.
“A buddy of mine from medical school. He’s the only other person who knows. He prescribes the meds for Reese.”
“But you treat Reese as you?” My mind is boggled.
“Yes, on paper, as me. All the medication, and insurance and doctor visits are in my name. So there’s no trail.”
“And you’re okay with that? Lying for him?”
Dev shrugs, a guilty smile playing on his lips. “He’s my brother.”
