68. Chapter Sixty-Eight
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Kai Moreno
ISO A Handbook On How To Hold On To Hope
Ilean back against the arm of the couch, watching Beau crouch near the heater Imani turned on low hours ago.
He hasn’t moved in what feels like days.
His shoulders hunch forward, his face drawn tight.
Elowen’s room is quiet behind the closed door.
I clear my throat. “It’s been days, man. We have to call it. Please.”
Beau’s head snaps up. His eyes darken, something raw and broken spilling out from them.
“Give her time,” he growls. He continues, his voice cracking at the seams. “For fuck’s sake, give her time.
I was out for days, Kai. You have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.
” I shut my mouth for a moment. I’ve never seen him like this.
I’ve seen him controlled, cold, unreadable.
This was none of that. This was something closer to uncontrolled rage in a panicked state.
From the kitchen comes the low hiss of steam.
Imani moves with steady motions, her back to us as she works the espresso machine she brought from her place.
She keeps claiming she needs to keep busy when fear presses in.
The sharp scent of coffee fills the room, dark and rich.
She slides a mug onto the counter, then pours another, though no one has asked for it.
“Beau. Kai.” she says softly without looking at us, “I’m still her family.
If anyone is making a decision, it’s me.
I know one thing. She deserves better than this waiting.
Beau, you need to get it together and read through some of your damn books. See if any of this is normal.”
Beau surges to his feet. His voice rings out too loud for the small house.
“I don’t fucking know, okay. I’ve read everything I can find about transitioning.
I’m just as scared as you, Imani.” His hands curl into fists at his sides.
His chest heaves as though each breath cuts him apart.
“I have no clue what transitioning cures,” he shouts.
“I don’t know what it does or doesn’t leave behind.
I don’t even know if it worked at all, damn it.
” Beau’s knuckles begin to change shades; he has them clasped so tight.
The words fill the space like smoke, choking every corner of the room.
I stand, taking a step toward him. My hands lift in surrender. “We hear you. But, you have to calm down, Beau. Screaming at each other isn’t going to help Elowen.”
He shakes his head hard, eyes wild. “She said to try. I decided to use my own free will to start CPR. That’s the only way to get her pulse back.
I’m not even sure if she realized when she started breathing that I had just jump-started her heart.
It was all so quick, but when she said to change her, there was no hesitation.
That was enough for me. I refuse to let her go.
She can’t leave this world without taking me with her.
” His voice drops then, cracking open in a way that makes the hair on my arms stand on end. “She is my everything! My everything.”
The silence that follows presses heavily over all three of us.
Imani turns slowly from the counter. She wipes her hands on a towel, though they’re already clean.
Her face is wet with tears. She hadn’t wanted us to see her cry, but it’s evident she no longer cares.
Beau drops back down onto the rug by the heater.
His body folds forward until his forehead presses to his knees.
Genie hasn’t left Elowen’s side. He only will come out if Beau entices him with treats.
Those two have a lot in common, as of late.
As unfortunate as that is. The sobs come then, deep and guttural, shaking the frame of a man I had thought was unbreakable.
I wish he was the hugging type. I just want to be there for him, but he won’t budge.
Imani, much braver than I am, crosses the room in two steps and sinks to the floor beside him.
She touches his shoulder, light as a whisper, as though she is afraid he might crumble entirely.
I lower myself onto the couch again, my chest tight.
It was easier to joke than to face grief, but no words rise this time.
Not a single thing I could say would make any of this easier.
The only sound in the house now is Beau’s sobbing, Imani’s soft breath near his ear, and the faint hum of the espresso machine cooling on the counter.
Tears blur my own vision before I can stop them.
I press the heel of my hand against my eyes.
Each of us are already grieving Elowen before we know what’s really going on.
We all break together in that room. None of us have words.
We all carry different emotions, but we all want the same thing.
Elowen back. We want her healthy and happy, vampire or not.
Just her, back. The weight of waiting presses down harder with every second.
Each moment stretches thin, stretches cruelly.
Somewhere in the house, Elowen’s breath rattles faintly, reminding us she still fights, but with no idea how much longer we have with her.
Beau lifts his head slowly, his face streaked, his eyes hollow but burning.
“I won’t give up,” he whispers. “Not until her last breath. I’ll sit here until I know.
I refuse to leave her. She can’t leave me.
I’ll be dammed if I have to live another fucking day on this planet without her.
” His voice shakes, but there’s solid steel buried in it still.
Imani leans her head against his shoulder. “Then, we wait together,” she says. The three of us sit in silence, bound by grief, bound by hope, waiting for an answer none of us can predict. And in that silence, the night stretches on.