“Nothing would give me greater pleasure,” Nate says, pushing his glasses up with a delighted grin.
“You can’t do this,” Walker protests. “He’ll… Feed me to the cat or something.”
“Somehow I don’t doubt that,” I mutter.
“You sure he won’t let him go?” Angel asks. “They’re cousins.”
“It’s a chance we’ll have to take,” Dante says, and he turns and hurries out.
A few minutes later, we pull up at Faulkner Regional. Inside, the receptionist directs us to his room, not trying to stop any of us. I rush down the hall, my footsteps echoing as I search the numbers beside the doors—203, 205, 207. At last, we stop at 209. My heart lodges in my throat, but I can’t stop myself from turning the handle, even if what I see will destroy me.
The door swings open, and I blink a few times, unable to comprehend. Heath is sitting up in bed, his face ghost pale and hair mussed, but he’s sitting up. Awkwardly eating while trailing an IV from the back of his hand.
I sway on my feet, the relief so great I’m not sure how to move. If I take a step, I might break the spell, and I’ll see him lying still and corpselike under the blanket, motionless as death. This has to be a hallucination.
“Hey, losers,” he says, cracking a sloppy grin. “Bet I scared you, didn’t I?”
“You dumb motherfucker,” Angel curses, pushing past me to collar Heath with his arm.
“I can’t fuck your mother,” Heath says, shoving Angel away. “She’s my sister.”
“I’d kick your ass, but since you’re on your death bed, I’ll let it slide,” Angel says.
“Everyone seems to be of that mindset,” Heath says cheerfully. “It’s great. I’ve gotten so many sponge baths you’d think I was at a Turkish bathhouse.”
“You’re okay,” I say, still trying to blink away my worst fears.
“I’m more than okay,” Heath says. “But you might want to get your blood pressure checked. You should see your face.”
He cackles and spoons another bite of green Jell-O into his mouth.
“We’re happy to see you awake,” Father says, stepping past me and approaching the bed. “Do you remember what happened just before you lost consciousness?”
“Yeah,” Heath says. “Three guys caught me. I thought they were older Crossbones I didn’t know at first, but they were Disciples. And a guy from the Crosses who was working with them—a double-crosser, if you will.”
He smiles, but for the first time since we arrived, I see the cracks in his façade. He’s pretending everything is fine, being the cheerful heathen we know and love, but there’s a simmering rage beneath it.
“We know,” Angel says. “We took care of him.”
Heath nods and pushes his plate away, sinking back onto the pillows. He looks exhausted now, lines etched around his eyes. The others don’t seem to notice, and they chat with him a few more minutes before he looks at me.
“Stay?” he asks, and I swear I see hope there in his eyes.
I look away, swallowing hard. “Yeah,” I say gruffly. “Course I’ll stay.”
The others take the hint then, and after a few goodbyes, they head out. I sink down in a square armchair next to the window. A couple old magazines sit on the table beside it, along with a pair of reading glasses and a stray toothpick.
“Your parents?” I ask, nodding to the stuff.
“Yeah,” he says. “They were here when I woke up.”
“That’s good.”
I don’t know how to close the distance, end this stilted, formal line of conversation.
“Where’s M?” he asks. “Avoiding me again?”
My stomach jolts, and I curse myself for sending the others away. I’m being a pussy, but I don’t know how he’ll takeit, how upset he’ll be. I don’t want to be the one to tell him, but I’m the one he asked to stay with him, so I suck it up and shake my head.
