Chapter 5
Tristen
“I don’t know what I’m going to do with him.”
I nod, though I haven’t taken my sight from the ball of sadness slowly disappearing beneath the hospital blankets. He’s so wound up in it, so thin, that it legit strains my eyes to find the lift of his breath beneath the mound.
“He keeps saying it was an accident, that he just took one too many, but …”
Yeah, he didn’t do that on accident. There were too many pills missing, too much purge coating the floor, to have only taken one extra.
Fuck, he was foaming and unconscious when I found him.
Three doses of Narcan.
But I don’t say that to the woman that’s caring for him.
She’s seen his file. She already knows.
It’s really not up to me to even suggest anything to help. I don’t even know why I’m still here, standing in some stranger’s recovery room like I belong. I don’t. I got what I needed when I saw him the first night.
He was alive.
Then again just now when I walked in to find him lucid. Those eyes open and alert enough. The color like warm honey, cloudy, but bright enough to hitch my breath. I’ve never seen eyes like that in real life. So light a brown, they almost appeared yellow. Wolf-like.
Haunted.
“Tristen, please don’t take it personal, honey.”
I flinch, playing it off with a shake to my head. “I’m EMS. I’ve seen and heard worse, ma’am.”
“Uh-uh!” There’s a tap on my shoulder that brings a small smile to my lips. “None of that ma’am nonsense. We didn’t spend the last three days rubbing elbows for me to be a ma’am.”
Snorting, I snag the trash from Emmett’s medications on the bedside table and dump it into the bin for Bobbie.
Even his name is one I wasn’t expecting.
Emmett.
I eye the board he mentioned to double check the spelling.
Don’t ask me why I do.
None of my actions make sense, but I guess they never really do to anyone but the gremlin operating this meat suit of mine.
“Yes, ma’am,” I mutter and watch her through my lashes.
She spins so fast, snagging the pillow Emmett’s not using, that I don’t get a chance to get my arms up. She wails me right in the face with it, knocking loose a laugh, only to cock it back once more.
“You done, child?”
I snort through a grin and hold my hands up to protect my face.
“Okay, okay. Bobbie. I surrender.”
She narrows a tired eye, then hides the almost lift of her lips by turning back to the computer, dropping the pillow back to Emmett’s bed.
“You going to hang around tonight?”
I pull in a quick breath that puffs my cheeks when I blow it out.
“If I leave now, I can still make the races.”
Another quirk to her brow is thrown my way when I make no motion to move.
“Well, why don’t you grab us some coffees, then? His toast should be up soon, and he needs to eat.”
Something lifts inside my chest over the fact that she’s not pushing me out. It’s weird, but it’s like I weigh just a little less now that the worry of being dismissed or called out for hanging around is lifted.
“Sure thing.”
It’s sludge that I find at this hour, but its burnt and dark and the perfect dose of caffeine for my sleep-deprived tastebuds to ignore. I have to search for Bobbie, but when I find her coming out of another patient’s room, she smiles at the second cup in my hand.
“Thanks, hun. Make sure he eats, please?”
I nod and let her get back to her rounds as I make my way to Emmett’s room.
Emmett.
Blond-haired and amber-eyed feisty little shit with a death wish.
I consider jostling him awake when the toast finally comes, but it’s already cold and half-soggy. Yum. So, instead, I settle back in the uncomfortable chair and sip at the slurry warming my palm.
Again, I’m struck with the sudden burning question of why the fuck am I here? It makes my face go hot and my fingers tingle when I can’t come to a logical answer. One that I’d be okay with explaining to Hat if he asked where the hell I’ve been disappearing to after shift for the last few days.
Not that he’s paid any attention to my whereabouts. Sometimes we end up at the same party or at the track at the same time, but most often my time with my best friend is spent with him behind the wheel of our rig. Running into the danger. Chasing after the souls not yet meant to leave this planet.
Like Emmett.
Sighing, I lean over, close enough to catch the musk of his scent clinging to the bed.
It’s a little fresh considering it’s been three fucking days he’s been right here, much like this, fighting through a detox, and yet I find that I don’t hate it.
The underlying him beneath it all smells … I don’t know … kinda nice.
We can unpack that later.
“You gonna wake back up anytime soon?”
He doesn’t respond. Barely even breathes.
“There’s toast like you asked for.”
Nothing.
I swallow back the familiarity of his motionlessness and clear my throat. “I wouldn’t-wouldn’t want that shit either, but the nurse is gonna kick my ass.”
That. That’s my reason.
Someone needs to watch over him when Bobbie can’t, and I happen to be the closest person with some semblance of training for this.
Not even gonna think about the fact that not another soul has been to visit him beside me.
That’s all.
This is basically work. I’m volunteering to watch over someone. Make sure he makes it to the next stage with the right amount of triage.
The idea squares my shoulders, and I reach out, tapping what I think is his arm.
“Emmett.”
The mound of blankets shoots straight up, scrambling as far across the bed as he can get before he’s practically falling out of the other side.
Shit.
My stomach drops and I snap my hand back.
“I’m sorry. It’s just me.” I shake my head at myself when he pants, eyes wide like a feral animal cornered and unseeing as he looks all over the room. “Emmett, it’s just me. Tristen. Do you remember me?”
Those eyes, haunted and untamed, swing my direction and look right through me.
He stares, his thin shoulders lifting with his heavy breaths, pinning me to the spot with just the look in his eyes.
“What do you want from me?” he finally asks, and I do what I do best.
Mask.
“For you to eat something.” I plaster on a smile and tip the small plate next to me with a finger. “It’s cold as shit, but it’s something.”
“Are you going to touch me again if I come get it?” he growls out and my brows shoot up high.
“What? No. No. I …” My shoulder sag and that fake smile slips off. “I wasn’t trying to invade your space or anything, bub. I was just tryna wake you up.”
“Why? Life is better when I’m asleep.”
Shit.
Talk about a punch to the chest.
I lick my drying lips and try another smile. It’s shaky at best because I know the feeling all too well. “You sure about that?”
“Yes.”
There’s that darkness, hovering over him and dimming all the things about him that should seem good. Light.
Like honey on toast that ended up burned. Charred. Destroyed by its friction.
I swallow.
“Alright,” I murmur and call up EMS Tristen in my mind, hopeful that the work me might be able to bring him back down.
Normally I’m pretty good at that on the road.
Calming the patients just enough to get them the immediate triage they need to make it to the hospital.
“Sleeping on a full stomach is better than an empty one. So, eat. I’ll leave the room if you want. ”
“How would you know?” he snaps out and gestures to me with a bony hand.
I look down at my white shirt and jeans and shrug.
I fill them out decently, I know this. It’s not a perfect body.
There are scars and mended bones. Marks of the life I’ve lived woven into my skin.
But the time I put in at work, running from one emergency to another, is enough to keep my stomach toned and my arms from becoming sticks.
“I’ve done my fair share of going to bed hungry,” I admit and push to the edge of my seat. “Good news is that you don’t have to now.”
I grab the plate and hold it out to him, extending the full length of my arm in his direction.
He eyes me wearily, but there’s something simmering beneath the aggression and defensiveness. Something I can’t name before he blinks it away, reaches to snatch the bread, and returns to his corner of the mattress.
When he takes a bite, I cheer internally.
Nod externally and slide back to rest in the chair.
I know I should go. Leave him be.
He doesn’t have anyone.
The thought turns my stomach.
Not anymore. Hat will just have to deal with it.
He’s got me, now.
Palming the remote that controls the TV, I turn it on and settle in.
“So, what do you wanna watch?”