Page 139 of Call You Mine
I’m grabbing her iPad from where it’s plugged in on her bedside table in our bedroom when my phone rings.
Pulling it from my pocket, I see it’s my uncle calling.
My anxiety immediately spikes.
I know my uncle. He texts for weekly check-ins about Ava and the pregnancy, makes sure to see me during my shifts at the station, but he never calls me.
Which means something is wrong.
I don’t want to worry Ava—not when she’s so close to giving birth. I don’t want her stressed about anything, especially not with how well she’s been doing with her ERP and keeping her compulsions in check.
The last thing I want to do is cause her anxiety. But if I try to hide something from her, she’ll know, and that will spike her anxiety anyway.
Heading to our bedroom, I answer the phone quietly. “Uncle Artie?”
“Are you home?” he asks, his voice strained. His lack of a greeting immediately has me going into Fight or Flight.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, keeping my words low.
“It’s Auggie.”
Auggie?
“What about Auggie?”
I haven’t talked to him much aside from texts here and there the last few months. He’s checked in a few times to ask about when the baby is coming or how everything’s going with Ava’s pregnancy. But, just like the conversations with my brothers and my mom, it feels like he’s asking more out of obligation than anything, the conversation never going much further than my answer and him sending a thumbs-up to my message.
“He’s in the hospital.”
“What? What the hell are you talking about?” My words come out rushed, my stomach in knots. “Is he okay?”
“He’s stable for now, but he hasn’t woken up yet. Not since they got him out of surgery.”
“I’m on my way,” I say, the words coming out on instinct. I don’t even know the full story, but I’m already grabbing my wallet and keys off the dresser.
My gut was telling me something was up with Auggie, the way he’s been acting, the questions he’s been asking. I should’ve pushed him more, answered those calls from Alex and Archie, and called my mom more to check in.
“Sonny,” my uncle starts, but I’m already changing into jeans and throwing a hoodie on. “I didn’t call you to have you come save the day.” His voice is stern, the same way he talks to us at the station—the kind of voice that makes you stop what you’re doing and listen. “I just called to let you know.”
“I appreciate it, Uncle Artie, but I have to go. I’ll be there in a few hours. Call me if anything changes.”
The words come out of my mouth, but they don’t feel like they’re mine—not anymore.
My feet feel like they’re melting in the ground, refusing to move, but there’s a pull inside me. One telling me I have to get to my brother, make sure he’s okay, and make sure my mom and the twins are okay, too.
“Anderson?” Ava’s voice calls out just before she appears in the doorway. An arm rests over her belly as she leans against the door frame. Her brows furrow when she sees I’m no longer in my sweats. “You going somewhere, sunshine?”
What started out as a way to get under my skin, to remind me that we were nothing but a joke—nothing serious, nothingreal—has become a nickname that she holds on to.
And I never really minded it coming from her lips.
Leaving her—leaving Georgie—driving two hours back to my hometown feels like ripping something vital straight out of my chest.
My eyes catch on her without permission.
The soft curve of her stomach stretching her tank top, the way her sleep shorts sit low on her hips like she doesn’t have a single thing to guard against in this moment.
She looks safe.
