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I close the door behind us just as Nate steps into the shadows outside the living room, squinting at the light. “What the hell happened?”
His voice is rough, almost angry. The text I sent him earlier was light on the details, and that was…clearly a mistake. I was so focused on Gabriel and how to protect him that I totally glossed over how Nate might feel about all this.
Not great, from the dark circles under his eyes and the tight set of his jaw. I thought I’d reached my maximum capacity for guilt. Turns out I can hold a little more.
I start by flipping off the overhead light and turning on the smaller lamp on the table by the door.
“Hey, Nate. I’m sorry I didn’t call. This is my sister, Lydia.”
Lydia gives him a shy wave.
Nate giveshera dismissive once-over and turns back to me. “Great. What happened to Gabriel?”
“Wow,” whispers Lydia, hurt radiating in her voice. “Asshole, much?”
“Lydia, just—” I put a hand on her arm. We didn’t talk much on the way over. Another misstep on my part. Nate’s not entirely steady on his feet. “First, did you take your eight o’clock medicine?”
“Yes,” Nate snaps. “Are you going to tell me what happened or should I just go?”
He’s high, that’s what. The painkillers make him as tired as Gabriel. “Absolutely not. Are you hungry?”
“I ate.”
“When? You should probably have—”
Lydia’s mouth drops open. “You’re going to cook for him when he’s talking to you like that?”
“Lyd, he doesn’t feel well. It’s late.”
Nate takes a step forward. It doesn’t look entirely planned.
“I’m tired, and I’m not acting like—” Lydia inches closer to me, and I feel her tense. “Is that a bruise?”
“That’s what happens when somebody jumps you, rich girl.”
Lydia bristles, winding up, and I step between the two of them and hold up my hands. “Woah. Guys.”
“I didn’t do anything.” Lydia’s voice is high and indignant.
Nate talks at the same time. “Will you just tell me what the hell’s going on?”
I keep holding a hand out to Nate. Now that I’m closer, the fear and exhaustion are as obvious as smoke pouring out of an oven. “Come into the living room and sit down.”
“Is he dead? Just tell me if he’s dead.” Nate pales a few more shades.
“No. Gabriel’s alive.” I take Nate by the arm with the softest touch I can manage and guide him into the living room. He sits heavily on the couch, as if standing up was too much, and he did it anyway. Lydia flops into the chair opposite, her cheeks red and her mouth in a twist that says she’s trying not to pout, or cry.
Nate leans back against the cushions with a slow blink. “Is that all?”
“He’s in the hospital for at least tonight, and probably longer. Earlier tonight he was trapped in a burning building. The only way out was to break a window and jump.”
I’ve never seen anyone’s eyes get so wide. “He’s fucked up, then. He—he might not come back here.”
“No. He cracked a few of his ribs, he didn’t break any other bones. Nobody is sure how that happened, but…he didn’t. He has a concussion, and he’s in a lot of pain, but he’s going to be okay.”
“Well.” Nate swallows hard. “He won’t want me around here if he’s hurt.”
I put my hand over his and look him in the eye, wishing I could project my own certainty about this directly into his brain.
