Page 97 of Bitter Notes


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Fuck.

Todayhasbeenashit show of epic proportions on so many levels. The weight of everything that’s happened in the span of twenty-four hours barrels down on me, sitting heavily on my chest and shoulders. Leaning back, I rest my head against the cold, textured wall, drawing in air. It’s all I can do to ground myself and stay in the moment. If I don’t, her lifeless body, covered in blood spatters, comes back to mind and tortures me all over again.

Seeing River bruised up like that—has me twisted into knots and so goddamn conflicted. Half of me wants to scoop her up, fix her, and soothe her discomfort. The other half of me wants to keep her at arm’s length to protect the band in case it all goes sideways like today. One horrific injury has them clawing at the walls like feral animals.

The large waiting room in the emergency department of Central Memorial Hospital is stifling. Rogue coughs from others waiting float through the air, mixed with whimpers and complaints. Jesus. My skin crawls with the onslaught of germs crawling all over the place. I’d rather lick the urinal at Dead End than sit in this germ-infested cesspool.

Fuck. I need fresh air. But I can’t leave Kieran. He’s on the brink of losing his mind, and I need to catch him when he falls. As cliche as it sounds, I’ll always catch my brother when he falls with open arms—any of them. They’re my family, and I’d give my life for them and risk it all.

My eyes narrow when police officers waltz into the emergency department with their heads held high, flashing their badges. My eyes follow their every move, wondering what they’re doing. If they’re here to interrogate River, they have another thing coming.

“We got a call on a stabbing victim,” one of them says in a low voice, but it carries through the room.

The nurse behind the desk clicks her nails against the keyboard of her computer and nods.

“Oh, yes. The patient is in room 30B, but be advised, he’s very combative. It’s superficial, but whoever did it to him accomplished whatever they needed.” Her voice trails off when she leads the officers down the long hallway and beeps them into the official emergency department.

I rub my chin, watching through the doors for any sign of River. Secretly, I hope she comes marching through those doors with a grin, telling us it was all a joke, and we can all go home. It’s wishful thinking on my part to hope she wasn’t injured so badly. So, I’ll support the band and make sure my Little Brat pulls through.

By the time Kieran and I show up to the waiting room, Ode has gone back with River, apparently claiming she was her sister. Leaving us out here waiting and waiting with no updates, which is all fine and dandy if Kieran, Rad, and Callum weren’t falling apart at the fucking seams.

Kieran leans his elbows on his knees, cradling his face in his hands, constantly fidgeting. He hasn’t uttered a word since we left the police station. And I haven’t either.

All this consuming rage builds inside me like a fucking storm. Here I am, deathly afraid Kieran’s about to burst when I’m the one on edge. Someone put their fucking hands on my Little Brat for no good reason, and someone is going to die with my hands wrapped around their throat.

Van may have been present after the fact, bent over her after the assault, but I have doubts it was him in the back of my mind. Was he involved? Possibly. Maybe? Who the hell knows?

Speaking of… My eyes narrow into slits when I gaze at the suspect sitting as far as humanly possible from Kieran, holding an ice pack on his face with a grimace. Every few seconds, his eyes stray this way with fear tinting them.

Good.

He should be fucking afraid of what Kieran will do if he keeps sniffing around what he’s marked as his. Van had his chance, and he blew it. It’s pathetic as fuck when grown men can’t take no for an answer.

Time and time again, River has blown him off, telling him no. So, why he’s here, sitting in the waiting room, still blows my fucking mind. The audacity this asshole has to cling on like a leech dangling from my ass cheek baffles my too-tired brain.

I close my eyes and heave a breath. This has been the longest night and earliest morning yet, but there’s still more to come. Kieran and I may be over eighteen and adults, but we didn’t check in or make it home last night. Sure, Nigel allows—and I use that word loosely—us to play gigs until three a.m., staying out to fulfill our hobby. But make no mistake, there will be hell to pay when we finally crawl home.

Nigel: We’ll have a very long discussion when you two get home.

I roll my lips together, reading the text message again and again. He sent it six hours ago when I walked Kieran from the police station. My stomach rolls and knots all at once. Kieran and I are up shit creek without a paddle the moment we walk through the threshold of our front door.

“I’m here for Kieran Knight,” I say with no emotion, grinding my damn teeth at the plated window protecting the front desk.

The woman behind it peers up, doing a once over, and nods. “Ah, yes,” she mumbles, typing a few things into the computer. “You’re in luck. He should be right out.” She nods toward a set of double doors secured by a lock mechanism.

“Out?” I question with skepticism. I didn’t expect this fight to be easy. Hell, I half expected Kieran to rot away for a few days until the judge came in and charged him with assault and set his damn bond.

“Yes, Mr. Montgomery,” she says with a knowing look. My stomach sinks into my ass at the sound of my name, meaning only one thing. “It seems you have friends in high places.” My fucking father. He always gets his way. Wonderful.

I hope Kieran likes the backyard because that’s where we’ll spend an eternity buried under the dirt with the worms and bugs.

“Mm, thanks,” I mutter, curling my fists at my side, waiting on the edge of my seat until my stupid brother smacks through the doors with a growl. He doesn’t utter a word when he marches out the front door with me on his tail and still doesn’t when we pull into the hospital parking lot.

“Why the fuck is he sitting there?”

Great. After six hours of silent brooding, here comes the bull at a full charge. I take a breath, preparing for the utter shit show that’s inevitably about to go down.

“He’s just fucking staring at us like he didn’t do this.” Kieran narrows his eyes again and clenches his fingers into fists around the ice, numbing his pain.

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