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Mia comes in first, Ben right on her heels. Their eyes are huge and worried, and my heart races out of control. Where is he? Where’s the man with the gun?
I don’t see him, but they’re not alone.
Another person is with them.
A man.
There’s nobody at his back. No guy with a gun. It’s just Will, whose eyebrows go up when he sees me. The faded bruises don’t change the fact that he’s gorgeous. So handsome that it hurts. Alot.
He looks at me like he’s waiting for an answer. There must have been a question. As a temp, it’s my job to figure things out on the fly.
“I’m still alive,” I tell him, and then my vision goes dark.
14
WILL
I don’t knowwhat I expected, based on the twins’ insistence that Bristol was sick, but it wasn’t rushing forward at the last second to catch her before she hit the kitchen floor in a dead faint.
A dead,feverishfaint.
What the fuck is going on?
Mia gasps somewhere off to the side while I sit down with Bristol in my lap. She’s out. I put the back of my hand to her forehead. That’s a hell of a fever. Sinclair had one like this once, and that was it. That was our whole lives, out of commission until he either got better or died. Our dad never had the time to sit by anyone’s bed. How old was I? Twelve? Emerson was the one who sat with Sinclair while I went to school. Those were the only times Dad let him get away with staying home. He must’ve realized he’d be fucked if Sinclair actually died while he was on shift.
Well, fuck that. I’m not leaving Mia and Ben alone here with an unconscious Bristol. I’m not leaving Bristol anywhere.
This is an unforeseen circumstance. Me. Two ten-year-olds. Bristol, sick as all hell.
I arrange her in my arms so she doesn’t look so much like a broken doll. My pulse is an adrenaline-stabilized beat. Bristol’s not in good shape, but she’s breathing.
The twins…
The twins are hovering, both of them wearing serious expressions.
“Mia.”
“Yeah?” She doesn’t take her eyes off her sister.
“Can you get a washcloth and run it under cool water, then bring it to me?”
For confirmation, Mia darts away. The linen closet door opens, then closes. The sink in the bathroom runs. A minute later, she’s back in the kitchen, holding it out to me.
“Thanks. That’s perfect.” I lay it on Bristol’s forehead. Probably best to act as if this is not a dire emergency. It could be, but the last thing anyone needs is to panic. “Who taught you how to squeeze out the extra water?”
“Bristol.” Her tone saysyou should know that, shouldn’t you?
“Of course she did.” I press my hand over the washcloth, then prop Bristol up a few inches. Give her a gentle shake. “Bristol. Wake up.”
She stirs, but she doesn’t open her eyes.
This is not good. Her skin’s flushed and clammy, and I don’t know what the hell she said when we came in, because her voice is shot.
People get fevers all the time. They panic and faint and get sick every single day. But the next breath I take feels frozen with fear and dread. People get sick and peopledie.I don’t want her to die. I’ll never forgive myself if she dies.
My muscles ache, desperate for any kind of release from a new swell of adrenaline. If I gave into it, I’d get to my feet and run. Carry her to somewhere safe. A place with somebody smarter than me and better than me who can make her okay.
I turn the washcloth over to the other side. I cannot be the volatile motherfucker who loses his mind now. It’s not just Bristol. It’s Bristol and Mia and Ben, and there’s nobody but me to make sure they’re okay.
