AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The guitar stopped and Ambrose froze in the driveway. Was he caught? He go could knock now, bring the pie over. He didn’t need another excuse to hide; one he knew he’d readily take.
Shit.
Ambrose hurried as fast as the boot on his ankle would let him. He hobbled into the house, to the freezer, nearly knocking himself out with the freezer door as he slipped in a puddle on the floor. Biting back curses and trying to not drop the pie, he wheeled out of the kitchen and through the front door. It had been only a few minutes, but Barrett’s house was dark and his big truck rumbled in the drive. Ambrose waved but if Barrett saw him, he didn’t acknowledge him.
Ambrose hobbled over, heart thudding. The door to Barrett’s house was flung open with a force that made Ambrose’s teeth ache. Barrett was there, bag slung over his shoulder. “Ambrose. Sorry, I gotta -”
Ambrose held up the pie. “I was bringing this over.”
Barrett flinched, looked away. Something got stuck between Ambrose’s ribs at the way Barrett’s gaze flicked to the pie, then to the ground. “I gotta go. My nephew’s in the hospital.” Barrett opened the driver door and flung the bag inside. “Keep it. Give it to me when I get back.” With a hurried motion, he yanked at the keyring on his belt, then approached Ambrose with his palm out. “Watch the place for me? I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.” He nodded at Ambrose, eyes going to the boot on his ankle. “If it’s more than a few days, I’ve got a couple of plants in the kitchen that will need water. I’ll text you.” As Ambrose reached for the key, Barrett frowned and said softly, “I’m sorry to impose.”
“It’s not. At all.” He plucked up the key from Barrett’s gloved hand and wrapped his fist around it. “I hope everything’s going to be okay.”
“Yeah. Thanks. Sorry again.”
And then he was gone with the thick scent of exhaust curling around Ambrose. Him and the pie and the muddy snow were left behind as the truck sped down the road and out of sight.
Chapter eight
“I’mtellingyou,that’sa mistake.”
“We’ve processed it twice, ma’am.”
“Don’tma’amme. My son is in a coma on the floor above our heads and you’re telling me my insurance is invalid?”
Valena was an inch from doing something not good but Barrett caught her by the arm, softening his grip as his fingers encircled her thin wrist. “We’ll figure it out,” he murmured. The jangle of multiple phones, pens clicking, the intercom overhead buzzing was all getting to be a little too much. It was like the fuzz from the godawful fluorescent lights overhead. All of it overloading his senses. The lack of sleep in twenty-four hours, after a seven hour drive, wasn’t helping.
“Bear -”
“Val.” He took her phone, wrapped his free arm around her waist, and threw the nurse behind them a nod. She stared at him hard, baleful. Val’s outburst probably wasn’t even the worst thing she’d seen that morning, but it didn’t excuse the behavior.
“Just because you’re bigger than me doesn’t mean you move me around like some….some…toy!” she snapped as soon as they found an empty waiting room. “That fucker knows he has to provide insurance for Forrest. Heknows.”
Forrest’s father was a piece of shit. There’d been fantasies of punching him out a few times, but never had his gut burned with anger more than now; staring at his little sister and her tear-stained face and rumpled clothes, her fists balled in anger. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just….”
Val sagged in his arms, sobbing. Barrett felt helpless as she cried. He could find them better seats, get her food, keep her company. But that wasn’t going to bring Forrest out of a coma or make him better. His entire life - all eight years of it - Forrest had been smaller, slight, pale. Sickly. Then some months ago came the mysterious bruising, anemia, joint pain.
The doctors didn’t listen at first. They told Val to get her son outside more, have him run. Give him better food. He’d be fine. Months passed and Forrest grew more tired, more pale. He would be afraid to tell his mom when he was hurting, even when she insisted he speak up. There were more doctors, more questions, more tests, but no real answers.
And Barrett was hours away, torn between his job and his family. So he was there as much as possible. For Val’s anger, hot but helpless, during midnight phone calls when she couldn’t sleep but was past the point of exhaustion. To see the fragile smile on his nephew’s face when they’d video call and Forrest would insist he was okay. To send care packages full of books and games and snacks. And to call Ken, Forrest’s father, when he found out that fucker had thrown out the latest care package because his gifts were, “spoiling the boy“.
Barrett wanted to throwhimout a window.
And yesterday, Forrest had collapsed at the top of a staircase at his dad’s, cracked his head, and was now comatose while his body tried to repair itself.
“And of course now the doctors are fuckin’ scrambling,” Val was saying, pulling Barrett back into the moment. She sniffled and wiped her face with the back of her hand; the one with a wedding band tattooed on. “I told them months ago I was worried it was leukemia but they just brushed me off. And now he’s…he’s…”
Barrett pulled her close and let her cry. She needed someone to help steady her, even though Val would never admit it. They were both stubborn but his sister’s strain of it was forged in the fires of being a single mother and someone who had escaped a loveless, emotionally and financially abusive marriage. Forrest was her whole world and while Val was stillVal, she saw her kid as her top priority.
“Have you unloaded on them yet?” he asked softly, pulling her closer as her sniffles slowed.
“No. But if you can be there when I am….” She trailed off and Barrett justknewwhat she was thinking. How she’d been sick and alone at sixteen, Barrett a tender nineteen and her only source of company while she recovered from surgery and the infection that had settled in afterwards. The surgery hadn’t been serious but the rash and swelling and fever afterwards, her stitched wound looking like something you’d see on a plague victim? That had been brutal. And while their parents tasked Barrett with Val’s care while they fucked off to gods knew where, a resentment grew. It festered and boiled like Val’s infection, symbiotic to this last, final heartbreak.
So yeah, he’d be there. He’d always be there for Val, and for Forrest. Fuck everyone else.
A nurse found them not minutes later, saying the doctor wanted to talk. Val stiffened beside him, the line of her mouth so tight her lips almost disappeared. “I’m gonna fucking kill them,” she whispered, only loud enough for him.
“I know.” He smirked, knowing the expression was ugly. “Want me to hold them down?”
