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The shivering means he’s alive, but otherwise, he’s in bad shape. I touch his shoulder with my fingertips. His body jerks, and the sound that comes out of him is halfway between a groan and a whimper. Because his shoulder is fucked up? Or because the rest of him is?
All at once, my feelings lock themselves away. I don’t have time for those right now.
“Nate. It’s me.”
He shivers harder, and two slivers of white appear. I couldn’t see his eyes before because his face is covered in blood. The slivers narrow until they’re gone.
“Please,” he mumbles. I can’t tell if his words are distorted because he has a broken jaw or because he’s in shock or both. “Hurts so bad.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to move you.”
A sob wrenches out of him, followed by a noise that’s pure anguish. I know that pattern down to my bones. I can’t ever forget. This is what it sounds like when a person can’t stop crying, and it hurts to cry more than it hurts to keep it in.
“Okay.” I get closer and slide one arm across his shoulders. Nate’s legs are so tight to his chest that it’s tough to get my other arm under his knees. We need to get him to the hospital, but I can’t rush this. It’ll hurt him too much. “It’s the stoop, right? It’s too hard.”
He nods, his teeth grinding together.
“Nate, it’s going to be painful when I move you, but I’m going to be as careful as I can, and I won’t move you very far. I’ll do it on three. On two, hold your breath.” I wait for another nod. This one’s shallower. “One. Two.” Nate sucks in a breath and holds it. “Three.”
I pull him into my lap as gently as I can. All the air rushes out of him. His entire body is tense with pain. He digs his head into my chest. Another sob causes a chain of groans.
“I’m going to count to ten, out loud, so you can hear me.” Nate doesn’t answer. I start counting. His muscles are still locked atten. “One more time.” It hurts too much for him to relax, but I can wait. I’ve done it before, many times. It takes him two more rounds to catch his breath. His head drops onto my shoulder.
Slowly, smoothly, I unfold myself so I’m in a seated position.
Elise’s face leans into view. She has her phone pressed to her cheek. “—teenage boy named Nate who has blood on his face. He’s been pretty badly beaten. We need an ambulance.” She gives my address, coming close to rest her hand on my shoulder. “No. I don’t have his last name. Yes, could you?” A pause. “Three minutes? Okay.”
“They’ll be here soon,” I tell Nate. He’s incoherent, all his weight on me, still shivering. In the distance, a siren howls, the low pitch rising into the night. “Hear that? They’re coming to get us. You’ll be okay. Just hang on.”
22
ELISE
WatchingGabriel with Nate takes my breath away.
If I’d discovered him alone, I don’t know if I’d have Gabriel’s total focus and complete calm.Thisis the ambulance-and-sirens emergency of the night. It doesn’t seem to bother Gabriel at all. He holds Nate without a trace of awkwardness.
It can’t be easy. Nate isn’t actually that much shorter than Gabriel. He’s just very, very slim. The amount of pain he’s in must be incredible, because the position he’s frozen in looks like it hurts. He’s basically in a ball in Gabriel’s lap, knees bent, folded tight like he’s protecting a mortal wound in his belly.
Fresh tears burn in the corners of my eyes. I’m looking into the past. Mason wasn’t beaten like Nate was, but that’s where Gabriel learned to do this. He didn’t have another choice. That's where he learned to take care of an injured young man.
Nate’s next sob turns into a pained gasp. Every second is more heartbreaking than the last. He wasn’t crying until Gabriel spoke to him. He must not have felt safe enough to let it happen.
Gabriel shushes him, adjusting his hold with tiny movements so that Nate’s head is in a more comfortable spot on hisshoulder. “Less than three minutes now. Okay? You’re doing great.”
Nate has to wait out another sob and the pain that follows before he can speak. “Don’t want to move again.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll move you when it’s time. Just relax. It’s okay to stop holding yourself up.”
“I don’t—” Nate makes a sound like he’s been punched again. “I don’t know how to stop.”
“Let yourself be heavy. I promise, I’ve held heavier people than you. Here. I’m going to lean back.” A wordless protest from Nate. “Just a little bit. Pretend you don’t have any bones and fall toward the ground. You won’t really fall. I won’t drop you—yes. That was perfect.”
There’s nothing for Gabriel to lean against, but he gives no sign that he’s uncomfortable at all.
The ambulance siren is getting louder.
“What do you think about stretching out your legs?” Gabriel asks.
