Chapter 20 #2
We didn’t waste a second. Jeremy nudged me toward the room that shared the bathroom with the room we’d been sleeping in.
We hadn’t really designated whose room was whose since we had gotten to this place.
My bare feet slapped against the cold tiles, then the carpet, and I winced every time.
My body just hurt. Julian was faster than both of us, already shoving the window open.
The snow outside glowed in the pale late afternoon light, a thick blanket covering the yard and the branches of the tree just outside the window.
“Thank God this elm didn’t dry. Didn’t Granny say that most of the elms in this area died?” Julian whispered to us.
“I don’t remember, and I don’t care right now.” Jeremy scooted past Julian. We were going to use this tree to get down, but it was covered in snow. Nothing about this was going to be easy.
“Are you sure about this?” Barrett shouted up to us. He and Phoenix were on the ground. Gun fire boomed in the house, and we all jumped, us inside and the guys on the ground. How had they known we were going to do this?
Jules answered my unspoken question. “I’m texting them.”
Jer nodded. “Yes.”
I hesitated, coughing hard, and Jeremy half-lifted me by the elbow.
“Now!” he whispered, urgency sharpening his voice.
He climbed onto the sill first, his shoes crunching against the icy wood.
Julian followed, swinging his legs out and clutching the tree trunk, neither he nor I were wearing shoes.
What was the matter with me? Why could I never be appropriately dressed for the situations I found myself in?
The air outside hit me like a slap: cold and biting, stinging my eyes and throat.
I clambered after the others, hands shaking, feet already numb.
The bark was slick with snow; I almost slipped, and for a second, panic flared—would I fall?
Jeremy reached over, steadying me, and Julian guided my hand to a sturdy branch.
I had never done this before. How did I shimmy down a snow laden tree? But necessity bred competence or at least not being totally and completely inept.
We scrambled down as quickly as we could, Jeremy leading the way—his footprints pressing clear and certain into the snow below.
Julian gritted his teeth, his socks quickly soaked through, but he never looked back.
I felt every inch of the climb, every ache in my chest. My fever burned, but the fear of what was happening in that house was stronger.
Phoenix grabbed me around the waist, pulling me against him before I got to the ground. “Got you. Wow, you are hot.”
Was I? Because right then I was freezing. I shivered in his arms, but I didn’t know where we were going when he carried me around the side of the house. Their gran’s old house was lit up, and they ran, Jules still in his socks.
“Are you okay?” Barrett put his hand on my forehead. “Yes, you are hot.”
Phoenix set me down on the couch. I had to say something. “What’s happening?”
“Well, I think that Daryl is going to die. I think my mom is going to kill her brother, if she hasn’t already.” Phoenix took off his coat and wrapped me in it while Julian stripped his socks and then grabbed mine, pulling them off. Barrett grabbed blankets and wrapped all of us in them.
The reality of what we had just done struck me. We could have died going down that tree.
Jeremy touched my cheek. “She’s hotter than before. The stress. We need Eric. Is he in that house?”
The door swung open and Stephen rushed in.
He was out of breath and flushed. “Thank god. You’re all here.
Okay. An ambulance is coming. Kit got shot.
Don’t panic. Eric says he will be okay. But he’s hurt.
And Daryl is dead. I need towels. I came to get some because I don’t know where they are in the other house. ”
His words spurred action. My guys didn’t shout, they ran.
Phoenix grabbed a towel and sprinted outside, his brothers on his heels.
I didn’t have shoes, and I wasn’t moving so fast. But I got to my feet.
What was I going to do? I really, really couldn’t go outside barefoot.
I needed to be there, but I couldn’t be there as I was.
Barrett rushed back. He picked me up, wrapping me in a blanket. “Stay with me. Okay? I’m going to carry you but when we get inside don’t leave my side.”
Barrett carried me toward the house and once again the cold struck me hard.
I was really getting tired of this. Maybe we should move somewhere warm someday.
But in the meantime, we had to focus. Their father was hurt.
The main room was chaos. Or maybe not. At first glance it had seemed that way but actually everyone was organized.
Daniel and Rosalind knelt down next to Kit where he lay stretched on the floor, a crimson stain blooming across his shirt. Where was he shot?
“Boys. Don’t be scared. My brother assures me that I will survive this. And it was my fault. I didn’t move fast enough.” Kit was talking.
Eric was beside him, holding a towel and pressing down on Kit’s shoulder, his bag open and spilling gauze and instruments onto the carpet.
Did he carry that everywhere? Phoenix knelt opposite, holding Kit’s shoulders with a gentle firmness that kept him from twisting away.
I saw how calm Phoenix was—his voice low and soothing, his movements quick but deliberate as he counted Kit’s pulse and relayed numbers back to Eric.
“I really am fine.”
Rosalind ran a hand through his hair. “Stop fussing and let Eric do what he does. You’re hurt. We’re going to help you. You were very brave.”
I deliberately didn’t look across the room. Daryl was dead. Someone had thrown a sheet over him. Probably Stephen who was pacing from the dead body to his brother.
“Don’t faint,” Eric called up to him.
Barrett set me on a stool. “We need you, Kit, so you’re not allowed to go anywhere. Okay? How would we function without you? I’m serious about that.”
“I know you have things to say to me, Barrett. If you want to, I am not moving right now.”
A siren sounded in the distance.
Barrett gave a short, trembling laugh, the kind that held back tears. His hand was on my shoulder. “Good. Because you’re not off the hook yet but I am not going to do this with you right now. I am going to major in whatever I want. You are just going to have to deal with that.”
“Sorry to be this person right now, but should we hide this body?” Jeremy called out. “Or are we telling the police we killed someone?”
“Let me worry about the police.” Stephen shook his head. “Daniel and I will handle it. Nothing will happen because of this. Making crises go away is something I’m good at. Even if it’s usually Kit’s foray.”
He laughed, the sound full of pain. “At least you are all willing to admit I am good at something.”
“Lots of things.” Rosalind kissed his cheek. “Many, many things.”
I hoped he was right because the ambulance was here.
The guys couldn’t lose Kit. Their family dynamics didn’t always make sense to me but that much I understood. They loved each other.
After so much chaos, the house seemed too quiet. Barrett and I stared at the blood stains on the floor. “We should try to get it out.”
“I think there are companies that could do this for us.” Barrett sighed. “I know how that sounds. I’m doing my favorite rich boy thing again, but I really, really don’t want to scrub the floor right now. I just don’t.”
“What do you want to do?” I stared at him. I shivered. Maybe he was right. We shouldn’t be scrubbing anything.
He tugged on the end of my hair. “Feel okay to sit up for a while?”
“I am standing, so I think I must be able to sit.” I shook my head. “I think I might have actually reached a point where I’m not even noticing how sick I am.”
Barrett walked me over to the piano. He sat down on the bench, his legs spread.
“Come sit here. Almost like you’re on my lap.
I want to play music and not think about today.
I want to play you the song I’ve been writing for you while you sit here with me.
And then you are going to drink some bubbly sweet soda and go lie down. Sound okay?”
I did as he said, leaning against his chest. My breath was short but not from sickness. “Are you serious? You wrote me a song?”
“It’s probably terrible. But yes.”
He flexed his fingers above the keys, pausing for a moment as if letting the silence fill up with possibility.
The first note was soft, uncertain, like a question he didn’t know how to ask out loud.
I closed my eyes and let the music wrap around me, the melody meandering at first, then blooming into something gentle and bright.
Barrett’s chin brushed my hair, and I could feel the vibration of the piano in his chest. For a little while, the world shrank down to just the notes he played and the warmth of his arms around me.
He played with more confidence as he went, the song shifting from hesitant to hopeful, from apology to something like love.
When he stopped, the absence of the music left my heart aching. The weight of the day pressed in again, but softer now, blurred around the edges by something beautiful. I turned enough to look at him, my voice barely above a whisper. “That was not terrible.”
He let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I said, the word lingering between us, holding back everything else I was too tired to say. Finally, I found my voice. “I loved every second of it.”
We sat there for a minute, listening to the echo linger, and I let myself believe, just for tonight, that the song could hold us together after the day we’d just had.
The door opened and Phoenix came in. He had left with the twins to go see Kit in the hospital. As I was running fever it was just better that I not go and possibly infect anyone in there.
He walked toward us. “What was that? I could hear it outside.”
I smiled up at him. “Something Barrett wrote for me.”
“Amazing.” Phoenix dropped down into a chair. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. How is Kit?” Phoenix kissed the back of my neck.
Phoenix smiled. “Pretty pissed. He doesn’t like being holed up and not able to do anything he wants at any time.
But pissed is better than anything else, according to Eric.
” Phoenix stared at me a long moment. “I am so sorry about what happened with my sleeping pill. You aren’t feeling well and that is probably because you were running around in the cold. ”
“Cold doesn’t make us sick.” I leaned against Barrett. “But your apologies are accepted.”
I could hear Barrett’s heartbeat. I closed my eyes. Kit was going to be okay. We were all okay.
Barrett squeezed my hand, warm and steady.
“We’ve had worse days,” he offered, his voice a low thread.
“Daryl is dead. You are sick but going to be okay. Trust me, when Phoenix went missing it was worse. When you went missing it was worse. Granny dying was worse. This is an all and all okay day. Considering the ending.”
Phoenix gave a half-laugh, rubbing his thumb along the groove of the chair’s arm. “Somehow we always make it through. You two—” He shook his head with a fondness that softened the shadows under his eyes. “You keep surprising me. You write love songs. You climb down snow draped trees. I mean… fuck.”
The room felt small, safe despite the fact that someone had broken in and died in there earlier. I glanced between them—Barrett’s gentle steadiness, Phoenix’s open apology—and let a slow breath fill my chest.
“Tomorrow will be easier,” I said, not sure if I believed it, but wanting to. “Maybe this is a twenty-four hour bug and no one will try to kill us.”
Barrett leaned closer, his shoulder a gentle weight against mine. “We’ll write a new song for tomorrow,” he said softly, and that I decided to believe was a promise he could keep.
I let my eyes drift close listening to his heartbeat. I could just stay right there.
I woke up in the middle of the night, between Barrett and Phoenix.
I didn’t remember getting here which I knew meant Barrett had brought me in here.
The twins were back, each asleep in the other bed.
I wasn’t better. That much I knew. And that sucked.
I coughed and Phoenix adjusted, drawing me closer to him. I was going to make all of them sick.
“Feeling sicker?” Barrett’s steady voice had me turn to him.
“Little bit.”
He nodded. “Let me get you something. Stay here.”
I watched as he rose and exited to the bathroom, coming back with two pills I knew would lower my fever and some water, which I happily took. He lay back down next to me. “Do you think there are people who don’t live like this? Who don’t live from one crisis to the next?”
“Yes. And we will be those people someday.” He ran his thumb across my brow. “I love you.”
“Do you think there is meaning to anything? To any of it?”
Barrett smiled at me. “That is the fever talking. Feels deep, but it’s nothing right now.
I do think that there is meaning to everything.
How else could I explain that you exist?
So yes, I think there is meaning. And right now, I think you need to rest because we have to figure out what’s next as soon as you’re well.
” He kissed my forehead. “I love you, Alatheia. I always will.”