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“Here,” said Hunter. He pulled a plastic bag from beneath his chair. “The nurse brought this by. She said it was everything you had on you.”
Michael began pulling things free. His jeans: filthy and torn. His shirt: filthy, torn, and bloody. His shoes followed the trend.
But at the bottom of the bag was his wallet—with everything intact, from what he could tell—and his watch. He pocketed the first and slipped the second over his wrist. In the pocket of his jeans he found his keys.
He pocketed those, too. “At least I have access to a vehicle,” he said. Maybe his day was looking up.
Adam and Hunter exchanged glances.
“What?” said Michael. “Jesus. I can’t handle one more thing. What?”
Hunter winced. “The truck isn’t drivable.”
“Define ‘isn’t drivable.’ ”
“Like . . . you can’t drive it.”
“Hunter!”
“You were parked behind the bar,” said Adam. “Hannah said most vehicles took some damage, but the truck had a beam through the cab. They towed it. You can probably—”
“Stop. God. Stop.” Michael ran his hands down his face. His truck. His truck.
No. Not his.
His father’s.
He waited for this news to tighten his chest and bring tears to his eyes, but surprisingly, he felt nothing. Maybe all his emotion had been used up.
“Have you been back to the house?” he said, his voice bleak. “What about the SUV? Is that drivable?”
“They’re not letting anyone on the court,” said Hunter. “Well, not us anyway. We tried, but they’ve got it cordoned off, with an officer standing guard.”
“Great.”
“I have a truck,” said Tyler.
“Good for you,” Michael snapped. “I’m sure you have a place to live, too.”
“Maybe if you’d quit with the shitty attitude I could say, yeah, I do, and yeah, you can stay with me.”
Now they were all staring at him. For the first time, Tyler looked uncomfortable. He shrugged and looked back at the door. “If you need a place. I have a spare bedroom. I’m just saying.”
“Why would you do that?” said Michael.
“Because it’s the right thing to do.”
Michael didn’t buy it. “You? Altruistic? Try again.”
“Because it’s what my sister would want me to do.”
That, Michael bought. It had been years since Tyler’s sister had died, but Michael still had clear memories of Emily Morgan. She’d been the first Elemental in town who treated him like a human being instead of someone who needed to be put to death.
“Won’t it piss off your parents?” he asked Tyler.
“You going to call and tell them?”
“No, but I don’t want to wake up chained to the bed and set on fire, either.”
