Page 47 of Ruptured

Aunt Zoann leaned over and kissed Rule’s forehead. “I’m sorry, love,” she said softly. “It took days longer than expected,” she added in disgust, “but we’ve found a place for you.”

“I want my mom, Aunt Zoann.Please.”

“Maybe, dial Mrs. Caldwell’s number?” Father Wilkins suggested. “Hearing her might give Rule some peace.”

A moment later, the sound of a call trying to connect echoed in the room.

“Talk to her first, Father Wilkins,” Aunt Bailey suggested.

“Hello,” Mom said.

“MOM!” Rule screamed before anyone else spoke. “Help me! Mom, I love you. Help me!”

Mom didn’t speak. The silence stretched for so long Rule thought they’d played a joke on him. He shrieked again.

“Rule, son, I love you.” Mom’s exhausted voice rose above his commotion. She sniffled. “Do you hear me? I love you.”

“Come and get me, Mom. Please! I want Reb.”

“She c-can’t talk right now, Rule.” Mom’s voice trembled. “But she loves you as much as me. We want you happy and whole and home. And you will be as soon as you’re better.”

“Why can’t I come home now?” Rule cried. “I want to be home! I want you and Reb! I want Dad and CJ! I want Diesel and Uncle Mort.”

Mom sniffled again. “Listen to me, my love. We’re getting you help. We’re not deserting you. We’re going to try a facility only several hours away. If that doesn’t work, then we’ll transfer you to one in California. Aunt Bailey will oversee your care team. You will have a personal caregiver. A lady Father Wilkins recommended by the name of Freya. I will visit you as soon as I’m able and it’s allowed.”

“Why not now?”

“We’re—”

“They had some scrapes,” Aunt Bailey said gently. “They aren’t able to come.”

Rule blinked. “They had an accident?”

“We did, son,” Mom said softly. “We’ll tell you about soon.”

Pray. They need prayers.Pray.

“Where’s my bible?”

“It’s with your things, honey,” Aunt Zoann said.

Jingling spurs accompanied heavy bootfalls. Once, that sound comforted Rule. He’d know Dad had gotten safely home and he’d stop worrying that he’d never see him again. He’d tell Dad about Ryan’s bullying because Rule liked to draw and Dad always loved the pictures.

“DAD!” he screamed, thrashing again. “DAD, I’m here! DAD, come and get me. I want Mom and Rebel. DAD! Where’s CJ and Diesel?”

Silence. No footsteps, broken sobs, or voices.

Rule shook his head so fiercely, it made him dizzy. “DAD!”

Hands gripped his shoulders. “I’m here, boy,” Dad said.

Suddenly, Rule’s wrists were free, and Dad enveloped him in a hug.

“I’m here, son.”

Rule wrapped his arms around his father, breathing in the scent of leather and smoke, familiar smells that offered Rule a measure of peace. “I want Mom,” he sobbed.

“She ain’t able to come.” Dad released him. Somehow, Rule focused enough to reallyseehis father. He looked so haggard. “She will. Soon.”