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Thatcher nodded, and his mumbled thanks made me smile again. He had his own pace when it came to things too, and that was all right. It was cool with me as long as he knew the door was open. It was with any of us, like I said.
The guy still didn’t move, and I didn’t either. He had his hands in his pockets like maybe he wanted to say something, but his head jerked up when an amplified roar radiated through the cabin. It hit me deep in my bones and sent both Thatcher and me running in its direction.
We both ended up in the living room, nearly piled on top of each other. The fire in the fireplace was untamed and in front of it was Wells. Dorian was nowhere in sight, and Wells was on his knees. He cowered, shaking, and when Thatcher and I came around him, we could see why.
Wells had his hands out…
And the flesh was falling off his fingers.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Fawn
“Who the fuck lights a gas fireplace with fucking lighter fluid?” Dorian Prinze had his hands braced. He breathed a harsh breath into them before grinding his teeth. He gazed up. “Huh? Who the fuck does that?”
The answer was Wells Ambrose, but no one said this. Sloane’s response to the question was to rub Dorian’s leg, and Wolf, Thatcher, and Bru remained silent. Thatcher was the only one standing. He gazed at the set of double doors in the hospital’s emergency room and had been doing that since Wells had walked through them. We’d all been sitting here over an hour.
This whole situation was a nightmare, and Dorian was right that Wells had done that. We’d all seen him before a nurse had taken him back, and his hand hadn’t looked good. I hadn’t gotten to see much of it since I’d driven over in a separate car. The guys had rushed him off to the hospital and Sloane and I had arrived second. Everything had moved really fast.
I had seen his hand a little bit, though, the skin bubbled up and... It’d been gnarly, and it was by the grace of God he’d only managed to burn one of them. Sloane and I had seen that fire before we’d left the cabin, and it’d been bad. It had certainly taken effort to put it out, which was what we’d done since the guys were tending to Wells. Sloane and I hadn’t gotten to see him long before the guys had swept him off to the hospital, and when we’d gotten here, he hadn’t appeared to be in too much pain considering the state of his hand.
I assumed that had been an act, though, a way to appear strong in front of everyone. I’d tried not to stare before he left, but had noticed he’d winced between interactions with his friends. I gathered he hadn’t realized anyone was looking at him.
Dorian’s jaw clenched. “I swear to God I leave the room for a fucking second. Can’t even take a fucking piss without shit hitting the fan.”
“D.” This came from my boyfriend. Wolf had his long reach around me, and he was playing cool about being calm too, but I knew better. His fingers kept tapping against my arm, which was something he did at his doctor’s appointments too. Wolf already didn’t like hospitals. I didn’t think any of us did since we’d been inside them so much in the past year. The situation now was only making my boyfriend’s nerves about them worse.
I rubbed his leg, getting calm myself when the rhythm of his fingers slowed. His restless digits ended up gently squeezing my arm, and I warmed inside. I didn’t like him uneasy, and Dorian Prinze didn’t like being told what to do. He started to say something to Wolf, but Thatcher shot off the wall.
Dorian followed him with his gaze. “Where are you—”
“Need some air and a smoke,” Thatcher grunted before stalking off, and Dorian scrubbed his face. I could imagine this whole thing wasn’t sitting well with Thatcher. I mean, it wasn’t with any of the guys, but Wolf had told me Thatcher was already going through some stuff.
Like everyone else when Wells had been there, Thatcher had played off that he’d been okay. He’d sat beside Wells and kept asking him questions. It was like he was trying to keep him busy and not focusing on his hand, but Thatcher had rocked during every question. He was restless too and hadn’t sat since the nurse had taken Wells.
Thatcher’s big body disappeared through the ER’s double doors, and with a sigh, Dorian glanced over at Wolf. Dorian frowned. “I’d go, but I don’t know what I’d say. I might make it worse right now.”
Meaning he wanted Wolf to go after Thatcher. Wolf faced that way, but not before squeezing my arm.
I wanted him to go. His friends needed him, and I wanted him to help them in whatever way he could.
Wolf and I had developed something of a code in the past year. It was a set of exchanged looks, and it was necessary in front of his parents and others in his life. It was a way for us to check in with each other, like our own secret language. Today, I gave him the look that said it was fine for him to leave me, and without question, he kissed my cheek.
“I’ll be back,” he said, his lips lingering. The warm heat ran down to my soul, and he didn’t let go of me without another gentle squeeze to my arm.
I followed his back with my gaze as he got up, and when I returned my focus to the others, I spotted Bru smiling in my direction. He and Wolf both liked to mess with each other. Bru would get on Wolf for being all over me all the time, and Wolf would tease Bru because of the kiss. I still cringed thinking about the day Bru and I had told Wolf about that, but telling him had been necessary. I didn’t want anything between Wolf and me. Anything.
The two of us had come such a long way, and we didn’t do secrets anymore. We were honest with each other, so telling him about everything with Bru had been important to me. Anyway, Wolf hadn’t been mad, but since then, he always rubbed the fact we were together in Bru’s face. He thought I didn’t notice when he got all territorial, and I only let him get away with it because Bru always called him out about it. Bru was the first to let the room know when Wolf was being his wolfy self. Wolf was possessive and a complete caveman.
Secretly knowing I liked that, I sat with the thought, but would never ever tell him that. My boyfriend already had an ego for days, lifetimes.
“Well, I need a stiff drink,” Bru announced before rising on his feet. He sighed. “But since we can’t have that right now, who wants coffee? I saw a machine when I hit up the bathroom, and I’m sure it’s got the best crappy hospital coffee money can buy.”
He was obviously trying to keep the mood light for the remainder of us, but Dorian was still stewing. He was rocking now as he rubbed his arms, and Sloane was tending to him. She smiled at Bru. “Sure, loser. I’ll take cream. No sugar.”
“Black,” Dorian said, and Bru gave a curt nod.
“I’ll help.” I was on my feet right behind my friend, and the moment we were out of the busy ER felt so nice. It was like a blanket lifted, and I think Bru felt that too when he released a breath.
