Page 89 of Mr. Brightside

I remount my phone and adjust my seat when the screen lights up with a notification. I glance at it as I put the car in reverse, just to make sure it’s not Dempsey calling for backup.

The name on the display has me stomping on the brake.

I put the car in park again—this time all cattywampus in the middle of the Jersey Bagels lot—then quickly grab the device to accept the call.

“Hello?” I rush out.

“Jake. Thank God…”

Her panicked voice makes my heart rate spike.

“What’s wrong?” I demand. There’s no good reason for my sister-in-law to be calling me at eleven on a Sunday night.

“It’s Fiona. I think she’s having an asthma attack. I’m in Columbus because my sister is having a procedure tomorrow, and Julian, he… he was supposed to…”

I slam my fist against the top of the steering wheel in anger. She doesn’t need to explain to me what kind of parent Julian is. I witnessed it firsthand.

“Are they at the house?” I ask, putting the call on speakerphone as I shift into drive.

“Yes. They’re at the house. I have no idea how long she’s been wheezing, but I can hear the rattle through the phone. Jake—”

Her plea undoes me. It’s like my brain and my body and my entire existence have just one purpose now.

“I’m on my way. I’m literally in my car, Ash. I’ll be at your house in… eight minutes, tops. Do you want to stay on the line with me? Or do you want me to call you when I get there?”

“Call me. Just get there as quickly and safely as you can.”

“On it,” I assure her. “I’ll call you as soon as I get to her.”

Her thank-you is barely audible as the line disconnects, and I whiz through the main intersection of downtown Hampton.

“Where is she?” I demand when my brother swings open one of the thick front doors to the Whitely Estate. This is the house I grew up in, so I know my way around. I push past him and stomp through the foyer, assuming she’s either in the living room or upstairs.

“Through here,” he grumbles as his wide stride overtakes mine and he passes me in the hall. “I told Ashleigh not to bother you.” He sighs loudly, frustration radiating off him as I quicken my pace to keep up.

As soon as I spot her, I’m there.

“Feef,” I murmur, scooping up her little body in my arms and sitting down on the couch in the spot where she’d just been curled up. She opens her mouth like she’s going to speak, then sputters out a ragged, shallow cough.

Mimi’s on the far end of the couch, playing on her tablet. She sets it aside and scoots closer to me, wrapping her hands around my bicep as I rub her sister’s back.

“Hey, you,” I greet, kissing her on the forehead quickly before turning my attention back to Fiona.

“You’re okay,” I murmur assuredly to my older niece. She blinks up at me and makes another grunting noise. It’s like she can’t even get a word out. Shit. This is bad.

“What have you given her?” I demand, my eyes shooting to my brother as I run one hand up and down her spine. I can fucking feel her lungs laboring under my touch as she tries to inhale, the wheeze making her whole body tremble.

“Nothing,” Julian admits. “Ashleigh told me where to find the inhaler, but I can’t get her to actually use it.” He rakes a hand through his hair and points absentmindedly to where the red and white inhaler sits on the coffee table along with the bag of medical supplies.

“Meems, bring me that bag,” I instruct before looking up at my brother. “Call Ashleigh and put her on speakerphone.”

His face screws up in protest, but I cut him off before he can even start with me. “She’s expecting my call. Either you do it, or I delay giving your daughter her inhaler even longer by going out to my car to get my phone.”

Julian scowls and huffs, but he’s not my focus right now. As soon as Mimi brings over the medical supply bag, I dig for the spacer, then shift forward to grab the inhaler off the table.

“Let’s try it this way, okay?” I ask Fiona.

She nods weakly as I sit her upright on the cushions beside me.