Sacrifice
Page 41
She gave a meaningful glance at the pile of pretzels beside Nick. It easily dwarfed every other pile at the table, despite the fact that Adam kept eating from the stash. “Are you kidding?” she said, trying to keep the mood light. “My pride is at stake.”
He ignored her attempted humor, but his voice wasn’t unkind. “We’ll be okay, Hannah. You don’t have to stay.”
His eyes, normally a bright blue, seemed dull and tired, leaving dark shadows above his cheekbones. His skin was pale, those few freckles on his face standing out as if they’d been drawn on. He looked exhausted. They all did.
She wondered what she looked like. She’d been here just as long as they had.
“I know I don’t need to stay,” she said quietly. “I want to.”
“No one wants to spend twenty-four hours in a hospital.”
“It hasn’t been twenty-four hours yet. Are you going to bet or what?”
Now he did glance at his cards, then slid them toward her. “Fold.”
She turned expectant eyes to Adam, who tossed two pretzels into the center of the table. Hunter followed suit.
Chris glanced at his cards, then looked at Hannah. His eyes were as tired as Nick’s, cloaked with some combination of wary suspicion and fear. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you want to stay?”
“Because I care about your brother.” She met his anger head-on, but she didn’t take it personally. They were all ready to snap. The past day had been a careful mix of distraction and compassion and brutal honesty.
They’d been up all night long—and while she’d hoped Michael’s brothers would fall asleep on the hospital couches at some point, they never had. Adult Swim on Cartoon Network had held their attention for a while, in a distracted kind of way, but that had worn off around dawn. They’d downloaded half a dozen new apps on their phones. They’d argued with hospital staff and begged for information on their brother—and later, they’d been surly and guarded with the policeman who’d come to ask them questions about what had happened at the Roadhouse.
Michael’s brothers and Hunter knew less than she did.
Out of desperation, she’d tried to call her father, but he hadn’t picked up, and he hadn’t answered her texts.
Around dawn, she’d found board games stashed in a cabinet in the corner, but they’d glared at her when she’d asked if they’d like to play Uno.
“What?” Gabriel had said, his tone sharp since it was morning and no one had eaten. “No coloring books?”
“Actually, there are,” she’d said. “Want to see who can make the most inappropriate picture out of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse?”
So they’d done that. She hadn’t realized how . . . creative a bunch of teen boys could get. But at least it had cut through some of their tension.
Sometimes they’d sat in silence, just waiting, their worry permeating the very air. At one point she’d stood, planning to take a walk, wondering if maybe her presence was making them more uncomfortable, adding a layer of pressure to hold it together.
But they’d all looked up in surprise, full of questions about where she was going and whether she was coming back.
So she’d stayed.
Adam had shown up at some point this morning, bringing bags of pastries and a box of coffee that was ten times better than the crap in the hospital cafeteria. He’d spent the day here, too.
As the day had worn on into afternoon, Hannah’s worry had begun to turn to dread. Michael’s brothers should have heard something by now. Her father still wasn’t answering her calls.
So she’d found a deck of cards. Poker was the first suggestion that had caught their interest. And held it.
Chris was still watching her with something like a glare on his face. “Can’t you use some of your connections to find out what’s going on?”
Hunter kicked him under the table. “Can’t you stop being a dick for five minutes?”
Chris shoved out of his chair and went after him. Gabriel got a hold of him, but not before pretzels and playing cards scattered everywhere.
Hunter hadn’t moved from his chair. His expression was full of derision. “Can’t you grow up?”
Chris’s breathing was too quick. “Fuck you, Hunter. What are you even doing here?”
Gabriel pushed him back in his chair. “Come on, Chris.”
“Come on, what? He doesn’t need to be here.”
“Oh, because you give a crap?” said Hunter. “Sure looked like it when you were roaming the woods the other night.”
Nick was picking up the fallen pretzels. “Stop,” he said, his voice tired.
“Forget it.” Chris jerked free of Gabriel’s hold and walked away from the table. “I’m done.”
They all picked up cards and pretzels in silence for a moment. “Should we go after him?” said Adam.
“Nah,” said Gabriel. “Chris gets buried in his own thoughts sometimes. Leave him alone.”
He’s scared, thought Hannah. She knew guys like that, other firefighters who would lash out in anger when they were really scared shitless. But she didn’t want to say it, not in front of his brothers.
“I’ll go,” she said. “Make sure he doesn’t kill someone between here and wherever he’s going.”
No one stopped her, so she walked out of the cafeteria and into the main hallway. Since it was a Saturday afternoon, the hospital was crowded with visitors and staff, but she caught sight of Chris’s angry form pushing through the double doors to the outside.
He ignored her attempted humor, but his voice wasn’t unkind. “We’ll be okay, Hannah. You don’t have to stay.”
His eyes, normally a bright blue, seemed dull and tired, leaving dark shadows above his cheekbones. His skin was pale, those few freckles on his face standing out as if they’d been drawn on. He looked exhausted. They all did.
She wondered what she looked like. She’d been here just as long as they had.
“I know I don’t need to stay,” she said quietly. “I want to.”
“No one wants to spend twenty-four hours in a hospital.”
“It hasn’t been twenty-four hours yet. Are you going to bet or what?”
Now he did glance at his cards, then slid them toward her. “Fold.”
She turned expectant eyes to Adam, who tossed two pretzels into the center of the table. Hunter followed suit.
Chris glanced at his cards, then looked at Hannah. His eyes were as tired as Nick’s, cloaked with some combination of wary suspicion and fear. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you want to stay?”
“Because I care about your brother.” She met his anger head-on, but she didn’t take it personally. They were all ready to snap. The past day had been a careful mix of distraction and compassion and brutal honesty.
They’d been up all night long—and while she’d hoped Michael’s brothers would fall asleep on the hospital couches at some point, they never had. Adult Swim on Cartoon Network had held their attention for a while, in a distracted kind of way, but that had worn off around dawn. They’d downloaded half a dozen new apps on their phones. They’d argued with hospital staff and begged for information on their brother—and later, they’d been surly and guarded with the policeman who’d come to ask them questions about what had happened at the Roadhouse.
Michael’s brothers and Hunter knew less than she did.
Out of desperation, she’d tried to call her father, but he hadn’t picked up, and he hadn’t answered her texts.
Around dawn, she’d found board games stashed in a cabinet in the corner, but they’d glared at her when she’d asked if they’d like to play Uno.
“What?” Gabriel had said, his tone sharp since it was morning and no one had eaten. “No coloring books?”
“Actually, there are,” she’d said. “Want to see who can make the most inappropriate picture out of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse?”
So they’d done that. She hadn’t realized how . . . creative a bunch of teen boys could get. But at least it had cut through some of their tension.
Sometimes they’d sat in silence, just waiting, their worry permeating the very air. At one point she’d stood, planning to take a walk, wondering if maybe her presence was making them more uncomfortable, adding a layer of pressure to hold it together.
But they’d all looked up in surprise, full of questions about where she was going and whether she was coming back.
So she’d stayed.
Adam had shown up at some point this morning, bringing bags of pastries and a box of coffee that was ten times better than the crap in the hospital cafeteria. He’d spent the day here, too.
As the day had worn on into afternoon, Hannah’s worry had begun to turn to dread. Michael’s brothers should have heard something by now. Her father still wasn’t answering her calls.
So she’d found a deck of cards. Poker was the first suggestion that had caught their interest. And held it.
Chris was still watching her with something like a glare on his face. “Can’t you use some of your connections to find out what’s going on?”
Hunter kicked him under the table. “Can’t you stop being a dick for five minutes?”
Chris shoved out of his chair and went after him. Gabriel got a hold of him, but not before pretzels and playing cards scattered everywhere.
Hunter hadn’t moved from his chair. His expression was full of derision. “Can’t you grow up?”
Chris’s breathing was too quick. “Fuck you, Hunter. What are you even doing here?”
Gabriel pushed him back in his chair. “Come on, Chris.”
“Come on, what? He doesn’t need to be here.”
“Oh, because you give a crap?” said Hunter. “Sure looked like it when you were roaming the woods the other night.”
Nick was picking up the fallen pretzels. “Stop,” he said, his voice tired.
“Forget it.” Chris jerked free of Gabriel’s hold and walked away from the table. “I’m done.”
They all picked up cards and pretzels in silence for a moment. “Should we go after him?” said Adam.
“Nah,” said Gabriel. “Chris gets buried in his own thoughts sometimes. Leave him alone.”
He’s scared, thought Hannah. She knew guys like that, other firefighters who would lash out in anger when they were really scared shitless. But she didn’t want to say it, not in front of his brothers.
“I’ll go,” she said. “Make sure he doesn’t kill someone between here and wherever he’s going.”
No one stopped her, so she walked out of the cafeteria and into the main hallway. Since it was a Saturday afternoon, the hospital was crowded with visitors and staff, but she caught sight of Chris’s angry form pushing through the double doors to the outside.
