Текст книги "Surge "

Автор книги: Sloan Storm

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Hypnotized, I felt myself begin to slip away with each subsequent thrust. At last, Dyson leaned away again and stood. Never stopping his motion for a second, he tugged my hips towards him and increased his pace.

Over the next few minutes, I drifted away into pure pleasure. Dyson took me from behind, slapping against my backside, the cracking sound echoing off the walls around us. The grunts of his effort and the moans of my delight carried me away to a place I hadn’t been for a long time, maybe ever.

And then, just when I’d begun to ease into the rhythm, Dyson shocked me when he reached down between my thighs and glided the pads of his fingers across my clit.

“Oh fuck,” I gasped. “I… Oh my God.”

The sensation sent an electric shock through my entire body. Completely unprepared for the moment, I nearly came on the spot. Dyson let out a sinister chuckle but never changed his pace. In spite of my reaction, or because of it, Dyson continued to torture me with his fingers.

“I want you,” he grunted, pausing after a hard thrust. “To cum,” he said, pulling almost all the way out before slamming into me again. “on my cock, Ava.”

His words sent shivers through me, causing my breath to catch in my chest.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you and make you cum on me since the second I saw you,” he began. My eyes rolled back in my head. “Cum on my cock, Ava. Do it!”

“Oh shit!” I cried out, squeezing my eyes tight. “Uuuunnhhhh!”

Dyson closed his fingers around my hips like a vice. He began to slam his pelvis into my backside with thunderous cracks. No man had ever filled me, driven me to my breaking point like this. I attempted to lift my head, arching towards him but no sooner had I done so than I felt the force of his palm against my backside.

He pushed me down, holding me flat against the countertop, pinning me there while he thrust in an out of me harder than ever before. No sooner had he done it than the heat of climax entered my awareness. Pinned in place, I felt my body radiate with the beginnings of my release. Dyson continued to massage my clit with a never-ending series of vigorous flicks, all the while claiming me with longer, harder and deeper strokes of his immense dick.

I inhaled a deep breath, mixing a scream and moan together in a sudden burst. The moment was upon me and I mewled, arching my backside into Dyson like a wild animal. Orgasm cascaded across my body and ripped through my mind in blinding waves. Too overwhelmed to scream, I whimpered a low guttural moan, willfully giving myself over to him.

“Yes, Ava, baby,” Dyson whispered. “Yes.”

My release radiated across my body for five seconds, ten—I don’t really remember. Engulfed in the bliss of my ecstasy, nothing entered my awareness until the sudden change in Dyson’s cadence caught my attention.

For so long, he’d maintained a hard, steady motion, hammering away at me with the same power he used when he tore down the straightaway. However, not long after my orgasm started to recede, Dyson accelerated the speed and power of his thrusting.

Drops of sweat from his brow spattered on my backside. I snapped my head to the side, licking perspiration of my own away from my upper lip. In my peripheral vision I caught the ferocity of his movements.

I dropped my head between my shoulders, pinching them together in a hard squeeze. The power of Dyson’s movements began to ripple through my entire body. At some stage, all I could do was hold on.

“Ava!” he called out, pausing and thrusting, pausing and thrusting. “Fuck!”

And then, over the next few seconds, the staccato motion of Dyson’s motion stopped. He froze, pinning his pelvis against my backside and crying out. The tension in my shoulders fell away and I arched my ass in his direction one last time.

Jets of warmth and streaks of heat laced me. I fell forward, resting my cheek on the countertop. The cool feel of it against my skin stood in sharp contrast to the fire Dyson unleashed within me.

Minutes later, exhausted and overwhelmed, Dyson and I collapsed into the couch and caressed. For several minutes, we kissed and enjoyed the solitude and bliss of our shared afterglow.

AVA

With one arm and one leg draped across Dyson’s naked body, I made lazy strokes up and down the center of his torso. My finger moved along in between the ridges and grooves of his chiseled midsection.

I sighed and closed my eyes.

“You okay?” he asked.

I felt the vibration of his voice inside of his chest.

“Mmm hmm,” I purred, rubbing my face against his skin. “Why?”

“Well, you were pretty upset before. I’ve got to get back out to the track soon. Just want to make sure you’re all right.”

I lifted my head off his chest and looked at him.

“I’m fine,” I replied, smiling. “I need to get going as well.”

A few minutes later, after we’d nearly dressed, I spoke.

“I hope you understand where I’m coming from now.”

Halfway back inside of his fire suit, Dyson looked at me. “What do you mean?”

I shrugged. “Well, just how I worry. You know, about you out there on the track.”

Dyson frowned at me. “I thought we already got past all that, Ava.”

I returned his wrinkled brow with one of my own. “What are you talking about? All I was trying to say is that there is a reason why I feel the way I do.”

Clearly frustrated, Dyson nodded and continued to get into his fire suit. He didn’t speak.

“What?” I began. “What did I say?”

Dyson shook his head. “You didn’t say anything. Don’t worry about it.”

“No,” I replied, glaring at him. “You’re obviously upset about something I said. What is it?”

Dyson yanked at the zipper of his fire suit. It whined with a high-pitched sound. He stared back at me.

“Look, Ava, I’m really sorry about what happened to your sister. But, to compare that situation of her in a street race alongside some bozo to what I do for living… is completely ludicrous.”

“That’s not what I said! I never said that!”

Dyson didn’t respond but continued to gather up his gear.

“It just seems strange, Dyson. That’s all I’m trying to tell you.”

He stopped what he was doing, looked at me and scoffed. “What’s strange?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, I mean, Darren seems like a reasonable guy to me. I just have a hard time believing he would get so upset if there wasn’t something to be genuinely concerned about.”

Dyson chuckled and took several quick steps in my direction.

“Let me tell you something,” he began, pointing in the direction of the door. “I feel safer on that track at two hundred miles an hour than I do driving on the God damn freeway.”

I raised my arms, shaking my head back and forth at the same time.

“I’m not saying that you don’t, Dyson. All I’m saying is maybe you should at least listen to what Darren has to say. I can’t imagine he wants to see you hurt or lose the race and…”

Before I could say another word, Dyson waved his hand in front of my face, interrupting me.

“I’m not going to talk to you about how I drive, Ava,” he snarled. “Now you can drop it, or there’s the door.”

I stood there, my face frozen and my mouth hanging open. I couldn’t believe after everything I told him and what we’d just shared he’d act this way. I didn’t see anything wrong with what I’d said, and more so, I would have expected him to appreciate me caring about what happened to him.

“Dyson, you are blowing this way out of proportion. I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I’m just trying to let you know I care.”

He turned his back to me and a few seconds later disappeared into the bedroom. The next time he came out, Dyson carried his helmet. He passed by me without looking in my direction. I swiveled my head, following him with my eyes.

“You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like,” he began. “Eat something, whatever.”

When he finished speaking, Dyson placed his hand on the doorknob and turned to look at me. I clenched my jaw at his sudden indifference. Before he could open the door or say another word, I let him know exactly how I felt.

“You’re an asshole, Dyson,” I said, searching the immediate vicinity for my belongings. “You really just don’t get it.”

He didn’t say a word. I moved as fast as I could, pulling my clothes on and grabbing the rest of my things. Half put together, I marched straight towards him.

“Move,” I said, waving at him to get out of my way.

He stepped aside and I pushed the door open.

“With pleasure,” he said.

At those words, I stopped in doorway. Late morning sunlight shined into the motor coach, warming me against the sudden chill in the room. Our eyes met and I glared at him for several seconds before turning away and slamming the door behind me.

When the day began, I looked forward to seeing him.

Now, I wasn’t sure if I ever would again.

AVA

As luck would have it, shortly after my argument with Dyson, I received a phone call from the administrator of Simon’s school, Mrs. Phyllis Marberry. Not long after I’d been hired by the team, I contacted the school to arrange a meeting about Simon’s tuition, since he’d lost his funding from the state.

I had a bit of time before qualifying began, so missing a day or two from the team wouldn’t matter. After grabbing a last minute flight, I arrived in Austin, and without even going home first, I headed straight for the school. My hope was that I’d be able to surprise Simon with the good news later that day.

I’d been in such a hurry the entire day, I hadn’t had the chance to feel anxious about the meeting. That is, until I arrived at school. Suddenly, the situation was all too real and the stakes seemed higher than ever.

By the time I checked in with Mrs. Marberry’s assistant, my knees felt as if they would give way beneath me. Fortunately, I made my way to a chair in the lobby without collapsing.

Although I wasn’t in much trouble as a child, I did get called to the principal’s office once or twice. For some reason, this situation felt eerily similar. After I’d been there for about fifteen minutes or so, the door to Mrs. Marberry’s office creaked open and an older woman appeared in the threshold.

Without looking in my direction, she walked towards an assistant who helped me when I’d arrived. The two chatted for a few seconds before they looked in my direction. The assistant pointed at me. Moments later, the older woman approached me.

“Ms. Walters?” she began, extending her hand. “I am Mrs. Marberry, the school administrator.”

I stood from the chair, smiling and straightening the fabric of my clothes with a couple of quick swipes. I took her hand in mine.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs. Marberry. Thank you for taking the time to see me like this.”

The woman stepped aside and gestured in the direction of her office. “Of course. Please, after you.”

A few minutes later, I sat in a cozy, antique leather chair. Everywhere I looked, the decorations reflected the seriousness of the woman sitting across from me. If nothing else, at least I was talking to the only person that mattered. If I had to guess, I would’ve said she was in her mid-seventies.

“Ms. Walters,” she began, looking at me over a pair of bifocals. “I understand you’re here to discuss the situation with your nephew, Simon. Is that correct?”

Crossing one leg at the knee, I nodded and smiled at her. “Yes, that’s correct.”

“Mmm hmm…” She nodded, pursing her lips and picking up a few pieces of paper from her desk. “I was very sorry to hear about the loss of his grant money from the state. That must be an awful disappointment to him, as well as yourself, obviously.”

“Yes, when I first learned about it, it was extremely difficult.”

She looked at me for a moment before responding. “Oh, do you mean to say that Simon is not aware of his status at the school?”

Half listening, I started to reply, “No, I didn’t mention to him and… wait, what do you mean by his ‘‘status’?”

Mrs. Marberry placed the papers back down on top of the desk. Folding her hands neatly together, she leaned away a bit.

“Well he’s no longer eligible to attend. I’m sorry, I thought you already knew that and were here to pick up his records.”

I frowned at her.

Pick up his records?

“Mrs. Marberry,” I began. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I came here today to discuss Simon’s enrollment for the next school year.”

Mrs. Marberry grimaced and shook her head. “Oh no, no dear, I’m afraid you’re very mistaken.”

Over the next several minutes, I sat there in disbelief as she explained that because Simon received state money to attend school, he’d been classified as underprivileged. According to the school’s bylaws, only a certain percentage of the overall student body were permitted to attend as underprivileged at any given time.

Confused, I sat forward in my chair. “Mrs. Marberry, I don’t understand. Why are you telling me this?”

“Well, my dear, since Simon has lost his funding, I’m afraid that he won’t be able to attend any longer. You know, since he’s fallen out of underprivileged status.”

I exhaled the breath I’d held in the center of my ribcage for several seconds. Sinking back into the chair, I blew it out and draped my hand across my chest.

“Oh, okay,” I began, sitting forward in the chair once again. “I’m not here to talk about state funding at all. I’m here to pay for Simon’s tuition myself. I’m very sorry for the misunderstanding.”

“I see,” she replied, hardly changing her position. She glanced down at the paperwork again, scanning it with her eyes for a few seconds before continuing. “Am I to understand you have temporary custody of Simon? He’s your nephew correct?”

I nodded. “Yes, that’s correct.”

Mrs. Marberry remained still for a moment before returning the papers to the desk once again.

She cleared her throat.

“I’m afraid I’ve got more bad news for you, Ms. Walters.”

Mrs. Marberry went on to explain that the school is only allowed to accept direct cash payment from a parent, adoptive or otherwise.

While she spoke, I dropped my head into my hand, rubbing my forehead. Since the day my sister died, I’d tried everything I could think of to adopt him. However, time after time, the state refused me on the basis that the biological father had to be absent from the child’s life for a period of seven consecutive years or sign a document waiving his rights as a parent.

The first of those conditions were never met, and since Dyson beat Gene into submission, the chances of him giving up his claim to Simon were less than zero now in all likelihood.

I just… I couldn’t believe my luck.

“Can I ask you a question, Mrs. Marberry?”

“Yes, of course you can.”

I nodded, having no idea if what I was about to say could even happen.

“If I’m able to adopt Simon somehow, would the school be willing to allow him to stay, if I paid in full?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Mrs. Marberry replied, “Absolutely. Of course. Simon is one of the best students we have here at the school. It would be an honor to count him among our own.”

Clinging to the tiniest shred of hope imaginable, I thanked Mrs. Marberry for her time and left the school soon after.

Sitting in my car a few minutes later, I stared straight ahead into the burnt orange of the setting Austin sun. There’d be no need for me to surprise anyone tonight. I started the engine, backed out, and headed straight for the airport.

AVA

After I returned to Los Angeles, I talked to Dyson briefly the next day. With his race looming, I decided not to bring up the way we left things. Maybe he did as well, because our talk was pleasant, but not much else.

He was optimistic about his chances of beating Gunter and informed me he’d have some special guests in attendance to witness it. He told me his parents and siblings would be coming to qualifying and also to the race.

To my surprise, he asked me if I’d like to meet them. I accepted but tried not to read anything into the invitation. On the day of qualifying, it was early afternoon when I arrived to the team garage where I was supposed to meet Dyson and his family.

As usual, a circus surrounded the pits and the team garages on qualifying day. I meandered through the throng of people and spotted Dyson’s unmistakable backside in the crowd. Yet, this time, something was different about him, and the change wasn’t subtle.

He’d cut off all of his hair!

Since the day we met, I’d always known him as someone with longer hair. I stood there, at a safe distance and smiled, wondering how different he’d look to me. Chuckling, I continued in his direction until I closed within an arm’s length.

Reaching out, I tapped him on the shoulder.

“Turn around,” I began. “Let me see!”

After I’d poked him a couple of times, he spun in place. A frown spread across his brow. Dyson looked at me in silence.

“Hey,” he began, looking me up and down. “Do I know you?”

What?

I jerked backwards, shaking my head at him. A small group of people huddled around him, all turned and looked at me.

“Are you serious?” I asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

His expression never changed.

“Yeah,” he said, leaning away from me. “Believe me, I’d never forget meeting someone that looks like you.”

It wasn’t often I found myself speechless.

But, as Dyson’s charade continued, I found myself unable to make sense of it. Although my mouth was open, and I wanted to say something, I only managed a couple of puffs of air in response.

“Well?” he began, now staring at my eyes instead of my breasts. “What you have to say for yourself?”

“I… I-I don’t...” I stammered, trying to figure out what to say.

But before I could get a word out, a finger tapped my shoulder from behind. Dazed, I spun in place and as my eyes locked on the person behind me, I gasped.

“Dyson?”

Dressed in his fire suit, Dyson raised his chin at me. “Yeah, who were you expecting?”

I raised my arm and with my thumb sticking out, I gestured behind me. “But, you’re… there.”

Dyson frowned at me. “I’m where?”

Without speaking, I turned away from him and like a bizarre mirror, the shorthaired version of him appeared before me again. I shook my head, doing a double take, about to spin around and prove my point. But before I could, the long-haired version made his way into my line of sight and draped his arm across the other.

Both men looked at me before erupting in laughter.

I shook my head. “What is going on?”

Dyson, hardly able to contain himself, clapped his hands together. Afterward, he turned towards the other man and they slapped hands, before hugging each other.

“Ava, this is my brother, Chance,” he said, still chuckling. “We were just having a little fun with you.”

It was very close to the last thing I expected.

Actually. No. It was.

Yeah.

That was the last thing I expected.

I stared at Dyson and shook my head.

“Do you have any other surprises for me?”

Dyson lifted his arm off his brother’s shoulder and stepped towards me. He leaned in towards my ear and whispered, “I’ll introduce you to the rest of my family.”

What I didn’t realize was that the ‘rest of his family’ stood right behind him and his brother, watching the whole spectacle unfold. In less than a minute, I met Dyson’s father, Doug, his mother, Mary, and his sister, Melanie.

Of course, I already mentioned his brother, Chance.

Dyson was polite, more so than I expected. The strange thing was he introduced me as the team doctor. While I didn’t expect ‘girlfriend’ to come out of his mouth, I thought perhaps the time we’d spent together qualified me as more than a work buddy.

Anyway…

After we’d been introduced, Dyson mentioned his brother was a racer as well. However, unlike Dyson, Chance raced motorcycles, specifically superbikes. I had no idea what that meant, but apparently grown men race motorcycles at speeds exceeding one hundred twenty five miles per hour on the same race tracks Dyson drove two hundred miles per hour in a car.

In fact, just before leaving for his qualifying run, Dyson slapped his brother on the shoulder and said, “This mother fucker right here… I may be crazy, but he’s insane.”

The brothers exchanged hugs, laughing with each other before Dyson walked away to get his qualifying runs started.

After he disappeared into the crowd, his mother, Mary, turned towards me. “Would you like to sit with us while Dyson is running?”

I smiled and nodded at her.

“Yes,” I began. “Very much.”

Just as we were all about to take our seat in the grandstands, Chance and Melanie said they were going to get something to drink. After they wandered off, I sat between Dyson’s parents and got an earful about the team’s top driver.

Apparently, since he could stand, Doug and Mary were constantly protecting Dyson from… himself. From an early age he took risks other boys wouldn’t, or couldn’t. Doug, sensing an impending disaster with his young son, eventually turned to a close friend who raced garage-built hot rods on the weekend at a dirt track near Pomona.

Right away, Dyson started out racing go-karts, then moved on to midget racing. He was a prodigy and no one could get the better of him from the first day he sat behind the wheel.

Even so, his journey wasn’t a smooth one.

As he grew up, his addiction to speed wasn’t the only one he battled. Even though he rose through the ranks with ease, by the time he arrived in the all-business world of Formula One, his sponsors and teammates began to lose patience with him.

He’d managed to turn things around in the last year or two, but after I witnessed his latest meltdown with Darren, the stories his parents told me seemed closer to the truth than not.

I wondered how close to the edge his career could be.

AVA

“He’s running well,” Dyson’s dad said, as he looked up at the times.

Dyson made several runs over the last hour, and with each one, he improved. He ran faster than Marco, but still trailed Gunter for the lead. He’d just left the pits once again to try and catch the points leader when I turned towards his father, answering him.

“Yeah, he’s really fast. It’s the quickest I’ve seen him drive yet in qualifying.”

Just then, Dyson’s brother and sister returned with food and drinks for all of us.

“How’s he doing?” Chance asked, sitting down next to me.

I glanced at him, not yet used to seeing a Dyson look-alike.

“Terrific. He just left to go out again.”

Chance nodded and drank some of his soda.

We sat there for the next couple of minutes, making small talk and waiting for Dyson to come down the straightaway. Soon enough, he appeared. Dyson’s mother pointed up at the Jumbotron.

“Here he comes!”

Within seconds, Dyson’s car screamed by our position, the engine wailing, reaching its maximum output. Simultaneously, we all stood, craning our necks to follow him. When he disappeared from our line of sight, we all glanced up to the Jumbotron and checked his time.

It was his fastest lap yet.

We exchanged high-fives and celebrated while Dyson continued around the track for another lap. After sitting, I glanced in the direction of the pits. I expected to see the same level of excitement we shared while we watched Dyson make his qualifying run. However, everyone appeared to be quite subdued and if I had to guess, unhappy.

Most displeased of all was Darren.

While Dyson’s family talked amongst themselves, I watched Darren gesturing excitedly while talking to Dyson over race radio. For the next several seconds, I kept my focus on him and noticed his frustration increase.

Without speaking, I glanced to my left and right to see if anyone else noticed Darren’s behavior as well. By the looks of things, no one had. A couple of seconds later, I looked at Darren one last time. He seemed completely irate, so much so that he removed his headphones and slammed them down in disgust.

Suddenly Dyson’s brother leaned in towards me. I wasn’t the only one after all.

“Darren looks pissed.”

I nodded, an uneasy feeling found its way into the pit of my stomach. “Yeah. He sure does.”

“Typical Dyson,” Chance grumbled.

Instantly, I thought back to the huge fight Dyson and Darren had the other day. From the looks of things, nothing had been resolved. While I didn’t know exactly what it meant, it couldn’t be good. Darren’s anger got the better of him, and he climbed down from his observation perch, walking away and waving his hands in the air. Just then, the sound of Dyson’s car rounding the straightaway caught our attention.

I turned my head and watched.

Within seconds, Dyson tore past us. I looked up to see not only that he’d made his fastest run yet, but the fastest of anyone else, by far.

Nearly two full seconds.

I couldn’t understand the reason for Darren’s frustration. We all stood and strained to follow Dyson’s car as it continued down the straightaway. It wasn’t long afterward the reason for Darren’s anger became apparent.

In the blink of an eye, Dyson’s car disappeared into a ghoulish ball of smoke and fire as he slammed into the wall at the end of the straightaway. Horrified, I covered my mouth and looked up at the Jumbotron.

From the looks of things, Dyson’s car split in two on impact.

What transpired over the next few minutes could only be described as controlled chaos. With Dyson’s family right behind me, we jumped from our position in the stands and ran towards pit row. On the race track itself, half a dozen emergency vehicles raced towards Dyson’s position.

Everyone, stunned into silent shock, looked up at the Jumbotron for any sign that Dyson might be all right. A few seconds later, we reached the team in the pits. Like everyone else, they waited to see if their driver survived. Alone, Darren simply stood near the observation tower shaking his head.

I turned towards Dyson’s family. “Excuse me for a second, I’ll be right back.”

With one eye on the Jumbotron myself, I hurried towards Darren as fast as I could.

He glanced up, noticing my approach.

“I tried to tell him, Ava. He wouldn’t listen.”

His face was expressionless. Darren stood there, repeating himself several times. “He just wouldn’t listen…”

Just then, a relieved cheer rippled through the crowd. I looked away from Darren and glanced back up towards the Jumbotron. Although he remained motionless, emergency personnel pulled Dyson from the car. In less than a minute, they’d put him in the back of a waiting ambulance.

Taking my eyes off of the scene for a second, I looked towards Dyson’s family. Both his mother and sister were in tears, being consoled by the men. Emotion choked my throat while I watched them.

Turning towards Darren one last time, I asked, “What’s going to happen? Where are they taking him?”

My question seemed to snap Darren out of his trance-like state.

“Um, well there’s a protocol that’s followed. They’ll check him here first, and if it’s needed, they’ll helicopter him to the hospital.”

I swallowed hard, raising my hands to my mouth for a split second.

“Do you think he’s okay?”

Darren exhaled and shook his head. “I don’t know the answer to that right now, Ava. No one does. We’ll have to see what the doctors say and…”

While Darren spoke, his cell phone started to ring.

He answered.

After a few “uh huh’s” and “I understand’s”, he hung up and looked at me.

Nodding in the direction of Dyson’s family, he said, “Go get them. Dyson’s on his way to the hospital.”

Oh no.

AVA

The next few hours were tense.

Not long after we got word they’d taken Dyson to the hospital, I went with his family to see him. While we waited, Marco showed up, accompanied by a few of the team mechanics.

After seeing me, Marco walked in my direction.

“What have you heard? Anything?”

Biting my lip, I shook my head. “Not recently. All I know is he was unconscious when they pulled him from the car. He’s since come out of it, but they’re still examining him.”

Marco nodded. “Okay, thank you, Ava.” He raised his chin in the direction of the mechanics. “I’ll let the guys know. How about you? Are you okay?”

I smiled at him. “Yeah, I think so. Having Dyson’s family here with me really helped.”

Marco looked past me in their direction. “Yes, they are good people.”

After he finished speaking, Marco leaned in towards me and we hugged briefly before he turned and walked away.

Once he had, I began to walk over and rejoin Dyson’s family again, when one of the doctors that worked on Dyson, Dr. Miller, appeared through a set of double doors. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at him.

After entering, he motioned for everyone to gather around.

“I just wanted to update all of you about the condition of Mr. Vix,” Dr. Miller began, moving his eyes among all who’d gathered around. “The good news is he’s stable and resting comfortably. He doesn’t have any life-threatening injuries. We’re still in the process of examining him for internal bleeding or hemorrhaging. Otherwise, he is exhibiting some symptoms of concussion. Once we’ve completed our testing, you’ll be allowed to visit with him.”

He paused for a moment, searching the faces in front of him for any sign of confusion. “Does anyone have any questions for me?”

“How soon can we see him?” Dyson’s mother asked.

Dr. Miller looked down towards his arm, flicking his wrist and checking his watch. “Um, fifteen minutes or so?”

Dyson’s mother smiled and thanked him.

“Anyone else?” Dr. Miller asked.

We all exchanged brief glances with each other before shaking our heads in collective response. With that, Dr. Miller nodded, turned and exited through the double doors once again.

Over the next several minutes, it was decided Dyson’s mother and father, Marco and I would be the first people to visit him. A half-hour later, we made our way to Dyson’s room and walked inside.

Dyson lay there barely awake.

Still in shock, Dyson’s parents rushed to their son’s side. Mary started to cry, leaning in towards her son and hugging him. Doug remained stoic, reaching down and placing his hand on Dyson’s shoulder instead. While I looked on, Marco reached up and placed his palm flat against my upper back, rubbing it.

“Come on,” he began, gesturing towards Dyson. “Let’s see how this lunatic is doing.”

A few moments later, I stood next to Dyson and looked down at him.

More than anything, I wanted to reach down and hug him as tight as I could and pepper his face with ten thousand kisses. But, that wasn’t going to happen, not anytime soon.