Chapter 51
Tristen
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
My stomach is in knots as Hatley races through town, sirens blaring around us. Flashing lights passing us by.
“They’re still confirming, Ten. Doing tests. We don’t know anything yet, that’s what Bobbie said.”
I grip the door handle with all my might, my knuckles nearly popping out of my skin. “Hatley, I don’t know how he feels about his mom. If she’s the reason he jumps. Why he doesn’t like to be touched. I don’t know anything. Fuck, Hatley, I don’t know anything.”
The realization is like a boulder on my chest, stealing my already short breath, and leaving my panic behind.
“What if he blames me for taking him home?”
“Ten, you’ve gotta get a fucking grip.”
My best friend’s words are true, but heavy. Thick and just as fucking desperate.
Neither of us know what we’re walking into when he drives right over the curb and throws open the door. Not after what happened earlier. And certainly not what will happen when the garbage is piled on.
Emmett’s mom.
She’s sick.
The only family of his I now know about. The only one he’s got according to Bobbie.
“Wait, stop.” Hatley grabs me just as my boots slam onto the porch. “You don’t know, okay? You don’t know what’s going to happen. Just … get him to come with us.”
My breath is racing. My mind even faster.
“I’m scared, Hat,” I whisper when I want to scream it. “I don’t … I don’t wanna lose him. Not like this.”
“You. Don’t. Know.” He levels me with a strong brow, but I can see it. He’s just as fucking nervous as I am. Just as shaky.
His grip tightens to the point of bruising, and I pull air in through the grit of my jaw.
Quiet, quiet, quiet.
I nod, though I’m nowhere near ready to step inside. Turn the knob, though I’m terrified of what I’ll find once I am.
“Em?” I ask the near darkness as gently as I can with the shake in my voice. “Emmett.”
There’s a gasp that comes from the couch and he’s up, running across the room to me, his eyes so puffy that they’re nearly swollen shut.
I did that. I made it feel that way.
I swallow hard and grab his sleeves when he launches forward.
“I’m sorry,” Emmett yells. “I’m so sorry, Tristen.”
There’re already tears streaming down his beautiful face, like maybe he hasn’t stopped since I left and my heart tears right down the middle.
“Em, listen to me.”
His breath sticks, his shining eyes flicking between me and Hatley.
“You’re here to kick me out, aren’t you?”
I shake my head and smooth my hands down his sleeves at his side. “We can talk about that later, okay. Right now, I need you to come with us.”
His lip wobbles and I nearly break on the spot.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he cries, and my eyes burn. “I didn’t mean to be just like him.”
The sob that wracks him leaves him pitching forward to bury his face in his trembling hands.
My chest cracks wide open at his admission and I look to Hatley with tears in my eyes.
What does that mean? Like him?
Like who?
“We can’t talk about that right now,” I say just above a whisper, my throat so damn tight. “You need to come back to the hospital with us.”
“I said I didn’t mean to!” he sobs and balls his hands tight.
“It’s your mom, Em,” I choke out. “She was brought in.”
“Wh-what?”
Those sweet, sweet eyes slowly rise to meet mine, so full of pain that it cripples me.
“It’s your mom, baby. She needs you.”
“No … Nononononono.”
I watch as he breaks right in front of me, his features crumbling, his eyes leaking, and he dives for me, hands clawing at my uniform.
Wrapping him up around his shoulders, I walk him back. Hold him close as he sobs into my neck.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to his temple. “I’m so sorry.”
“Is she dead?” he cries as I get us into the back of the rig and Hatley jogs around to the front. “Did he finally kill her?”
He who? I want to ask but I don’t.
“No … but Em … she’s not … she’s not well.”
The sounds that crest his cracking lips echo in my hollowed-out chest.
“Please don’t leave,” he begs, the rig bumping beneath us, jostling him against me. He holds me tighter. “Please don’t leave me.”
He’s chanting it over and over like a prayer, like the last thing he wants is to lose her.
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t her.
The pain screaming back at me is undeniable.
I hold him close. His hair just beneath my nose, my arm tight around his shoulder.
There’s nothing that I can give to ease him, nothing that will change what I know is inevitable. No words of wisdom or comfort. And that hurts.
Over top of his head, my eyes flick to the lockbox set back into the storage lining the walls. The whole thing can come out, like a mini safe, and it’s where all the stored narcotics sit.
Quiet.
It would be easy to just … get the keys from Hatley and give him something. Make the blow feel like less.
Quiet.
The snap of the back doors opening has my head swinging to my best friend’s pinched expression. His sight flicks to where mine was, his brows down low and darkening his features.
“C’mon. Let’s get him upstairs.”
My nod is slow and my movements even slower as I guide us into the hospital.
I’m struck, the moment I cross that threshold, with a feeling so uneasy, my knees buckle. Barely managing to keep myself up, I pull Em in tighter to my side.
Focus on him.
The tears still haven’t stopped, they’re just silent now.
Somehow … that feels worse.
My heart thunders around the ache in my chest, my throat too thick for words as Bobbie meets us just outside the room where they’re keeping Emmett’s mom.
This is it. This is where I lose him.
“Emmett, my precious nephew,” she nearly cries and opens her arms for him.
He doesn’t go to her. Just shakes his head and sniffs.
“Go,” I nudge with a rasp. “She’ll explain everything.”
Bloodshot eyes meet mine, watery and desperate.
“Wait, Tristen.”
“I-I gotta get back—”
He slumps, his lip wobbling. “Please, don’t go.”
He’s staring right at me when he says it, and the way his eyes fill tells me he already knows the answer.
I have to.
He’s got Bobbie with him. A confidant that’s not me or Hatley, but someone familiar. He needs this. Time away from me and to be with his mom, however short it might be, even if he hates her.
He deserves closure and clarity, even if he doesn’t come back to me after.
I hope I’m wrong assuming he won’t.
“I’ll check on you. I promise,” I murmur low and walk away.
It’s not until I stab the call button on the elevator that I turn back around to catch his gaze and those tears finally fall.
And this time … I know they’re because of me.