Chapter 8 — The Call That Changes Everything
1807 Words
Chapter 8 — The Call That Changes Everything
Spike didn’t get back into the car right away.
He stood there on the edge of the asphalt, the traffic beginning to flow again like nothing had happened—as if two lives hadn’t almost been erased in the space of a single breath. His hands were still shaking, a fine, rhythmic tremor he couldn't control. He pressed them hard against his thighs, inhaling the cool evening air slowly, forcing it into lungs that felt far too tight for his chest.
The echo of Amelia’s eyes stayed with him. It wasn't just the fear he remembered; it was the quiet, unsettled depth in her gaze. It felt like a question he didn't know how to answer.
His phone vibrated again in his pocket, the sound jarring in the sudden silence of his mind.
MUM.
He stared at the screen for a long beat, the light casting a pale glow over his features, before finally answering.
“Spike?” Her voice came through immediately, strained and thin. “Are you alright? You sound... different.”
He swallowed hard, leaning his head back against the cool glass of his window. “I—yeah. I’m fine, Mum. I just... I almost hit two girls crossing the street. I blew through a red.”
There was a heavy silence on the other end, followed by a sharp, terrified inhale. “What?”
“I didn't see the light,” he said quietly, his voice cracking despite his attempt to hold it steady. “I was distracted. I stopped in time, but—” He trailed off, the image of Amelia on the pavement flashing behind his eyelids. “I could’ve killed them. I was inches away.”
“Oh, Spike,” she whispered, her voice trembling with relief. “Thank God you didn't. Thank God everyone is safe.”
He closed his eyes. “I keep replaying it. One second. One stupid mistake, and everything would be gone.”
“Listen to me,” she said, her tone turning gentle but firm, the way it always did when the world was falling apart. “You aren't a monster for making a mistake, Spike. But you need to slow down. You’ve been carrying far too much lately. Both of you have.”
He leaned his weight against the car, staring up at the dark sky where the stars were struggling to shine through the city’s haze. “I know.”
There was a pause, and when she spoke again, her tone had shifted. The motherly comfort was still there, but it was layered with a heavy, looming grief.
“Spike... your father isn’t well.”
His chest tightened instantly, a different kind of fear taking hold. “What do you mean? What happened?”
“He’s been asking for you,” she said softly. “And for Leo. He’s at the hospital now. They moved him this afternoon for treatment.”
Spike straightened up, his protective instincts flaring. “Why didn't you tell me earlier? Why didn't you call Leo?”
“I tried,” she replied wearily. “Neither of you answered. You’ve both been so busy with the club, You don't pick up...”
Guilt twisted like a knife in his stomach. “What kind of treatment, Mum? Is it his heart again?”
“They’re running tests,” she said carefully, though he could hear the things she wasn't saying. “The doctors want to keep him under observation. They’re worried about his strength.”
Spike ran a hand through his hair, pacing a small circle on the sidewalk. “Is it serious? Give me the truth.”
Another pause. This one lasted longer, filled with the muffled sounds of a hospital corridor. “He’s weak, Spike. And he’s scared. He won’t admit it—he still tries to act like the man you remember—but I can see it. He keeps looking at the door, asking if his boys are coming home.”
Spike looked back at the crosswalk, at the place where life almost ended, and then toward the direction of his parents' house. “I’m coming,” he said, his voice suddenly sure. “We’re coming tonight.”
“And Leo,” she added. “Please, Spike. He needs both of you. The family needs to be together.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Spike promised.
She sighed, a sound of tangled relief and exhaustion. “Thank you, my love. We aren't asking you to stay forever. Just... come home. Today.”
“Today, Okay we will,” he said. “I promise. I’m getting in the car now.”
“Drive carefully,” she added softly. “Please.”
He ended the call but sat in the driver’s seat for a long moment without turning the engine on. The music from the distant club district pulsed faintly in the air—a rhythm of celebration and excess. But the glamour of it felt hollow now. Something in him had shifted, the edges of his world becoming sharper, more somber. He turned the key and drove, not with his usual reckless speed, but with a quiet, careful focus.
When Spike arrived at the penthouse, the air was uncharacteristically quiet. There was no music blaring, no overlapping voices of the "birthday crew."
“Spike!” Leo called out from the lounge, noticing his brother’s entrance. “Where the hell have you been? You disappear for hours and then show up looking like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Spike shut the door behind him, the sound heavy in the room. “We need to talk, Leo.”
Leo raised an eyebrow, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. “Now?
“Yes,” Spike said, his voice hard. “Now.”
“What’s wrong?” Leo asked, his playful expression vanishing as he stood up.
Spike exhaled, the weight of the evening pouring out of him. “I almost hit two girls with the car tonight. I was distracted, Leo. I didn't see the light.”
Leo stiffened, his eyes searching his twin’s face. “What? Are they de—are they okay?”
“Yes,” Spike said. “Shaken, but alive. One of them... she was just a girl, Leo. Someone’s daughter. Someone’s friend. And I almost ended it because I was looking at a phone screen.”
Leo ran a hand through his hair, leaning against the back of the sofa. “Jesus, Spike. That... that could’ve been the end of everything.”
“It was close. Too close,” Spike replied. “And then Mum called. While I was still standing on the street.”
Leo’s expression shifted instantly to one of dread. “What about Mum?”
“Dad’s in the hospital,” Spike said. “He’s not well, Leo. They’re running tests, and he’s asking for us. Both of us.”
Leo blinked, the reality of the situation colliding with his plans for the night. “Why didn't she tell me? Why now I’ve had my phone on me all day.”
“She tried,” Spike said quietly. “We’ve just been too busy living this life to notice the one we left behind.”
The words felt hollow and cold. Leo leaned against the wall, staring at the polished floor. “I’ve got the party tonight. Amelia... she’s coming. She’s expecting to see me.”
Spike noticed the way Leo said her name—with a gentleness he hadn't used for anyone else.
“Cancel it,” Spike said firmly.
Leo looked up sharply. “What? Spike, it’s not that simple. The guests, the staff, the arrangements—”
“Our father is in a hospital bed asking for his sons,” Spike cut in, his voice rising. “Nothing else in this city matters more than that. Not the club, not the party, and not the girls.”
Leo fell silent, his jaw tightening as he struggled with the choice. He closed his eyes briefly, a look of deep regret crossing his face. “How bad is it? Did she say?”
Spike shook his head. “I don’t know. And that’s exactly why we need to be there.”
Another long silence stretched between them. Then, Leo nodded slowly, his sense of duty winning over his desire. “Okay.”
Spike blinked, surprised by the quick surrender. “Okay?”
“I’ll handle it,” Leo said, already pulling out his phone. “I’ll send out a message. Family emergency. I’ll make sure the staff knows the club is closed for the private event. I’ll find a way to reach Amelia.”
Relief washed through Spike, cooling the fire in his chest. “Good. Just do it quickly. We need to move.”
Leo glanced at his brother, noticing the lingering pallor of his skin. “Are you okay, Spike? Really?”
Spike thought of the gentle girl at the crosswalk. He thought of the blinding white of his headlights and the sound of his mother’s breaking voice.
“No,” he said honestly. “But I will be once we’re home.”
Hours later, Spike stood in his room packing a small bag. His movements were automatic, his mind drifting back to the girl at the crosswalk—the one who had looked at him as if their souls had recognized one another in the chaos. He shook the thought away.
This wasn’t the time for ghosts. Family came first.
As he zipped the bag, his phone buzzed.
Mum: We’re waiting for you. The room is quiet.
Spike: We’re on our way. Leaving now.
He paused, his thumb hovering over the screen, before adding: Tell Dad his boys are coming.
The reply was almost instant.
Mum: He’ll be so happy to hear that. Drive safe, my love.
Spike sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, the silence of the penthouse feeling heavier than the noise of the club ever did. Outside, the city continued to breathe, unconcerned with the small tragedies and reunions of the people within it.
But Spike knew the truth now. Life didn’t give you a siren or a warning before it changed forever. It didn't ask if you were ready.
Sometimes, it just turned red. And you either stopped in time—or you lost everything you ever cared about.
- Writer
