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“Maybe he didn’t,” I remark quietly, earning the full brunt of Kieran’s ire.
“You don’t think he did? He was right fucking there, Asher!” he hisses so loudly that his voice bounces off the tall ceilings. “He did it! And I’m going to bury him for it.” A tick forms in his jaw when he whips his head, holding Van’s gaze.
Yup. Shit show.
I shrug, closing my eyes. “Don’t jump to so many conclusions,” I say through a yawn, sinking further into my chair. Maybe if I fall asleep, this will all be a distant dream.
“You’re just…you’re just going to let him get away with it?” Kieran growls, I’m sure, throwing spittle everywhere with each word.
I sigh. “You’ve already been arrested once and released. Do you want to chance it again? It’s called silent planning, Kieran,” I mutter through the thick fog clouding my mind. If I don’t get some sleep soon, my head will explode from the headache working its way up my neck and into the back of my skull. “Maybe you should learn the skill.” He huffs at me, throwing himself back into the chair.
“Asher, man.” I sigh again, peeking an eye open, revealing Rad’s concerned and fallen expression. It twists, contorting his face into an anguish-filled feature. “You gotta do something. He won’t take them out. He’s losing his shit. I don’t know what to do. He hasn’t been this bad since-since, Jenny,” Rad murmurs the last part, hiccuping at the thought of Callum’s little sister and everything he went through concerning the plane crash. “He’s in love with her, man. We gotta…”
Holding up a hand, I stop him in his tracks. The sad truth is they’re all in love with her. They may not admit it yet, but they’re head over heels, stupidly in love, leading us down dangerous roads of sabotage. I won’t let my best friend suffer in silence by drowning out the world and ignoring everyone around him.
Climbing to my feet, I make my way to Callum’s silent bubble with purpose. His head rests back against the wall with his eyes closed and his hands buried deep in his pockets, slouching in his chair.
Settling beside him, I lightly nudge him with my shoulder until he peeks an eye open. An array of emotions filter through his gray eyes when his broken gaze meets mine. A tiny twitch forms at the edge of his lip, letting me know the man doesn’t want to speak about the situation. He’d rather lose himself in the loud music thumping through his earbuds than face reality. I tap my ear until he huffs, yanking out his earbud.
“What’s up?” he murmurs in a soft voice, thick with emotions. His eyes drop to the ground, taking in the disgusting tile pattern.
“I should ask you the same. What’s going through your mind, Callum?”
He meets my eye at the sound of his name, quickly locking away any emotions he feels. Usually, Callum is an easy book to read. For me, anyway. Every emotion inside him slides across his face like an open book. Today he’s a blank canvas, not giving any hints as to why he’s isolated himself. Given the circumstances, I understand why.
“It’s all I see,” he mutters, fidgeting with his earbuds between his fingers.
“What is?”
Even though I know the answer, I still ask. It’s the only way to break Callum out of his rut, by forcing him to utter the dreaded words. He’s not alone, though. The second my eyes fall shut, she’s all I see. All broken, bruised, bloodied, lying on the cold, dark pavement forever haunts my nightmares. But for him, he’ll literally never forget.
He shakes his head, and his face contorts into deep hurt. “Her just lying there,” he whispers as tears fall down his cheeks. “I can’t get that image out of here,” he cries out, thumping his fist into his head several times. “I can’t make it stop, Asher.” My heart fucking breaks for my friend, shattering into pieces at the emotions rolling through him.
“Think of happier times, man,” I murmur, rubbing a hand down his back and soothing his pain. “Think of the time we had on the Ferris wheel. Or the amazing show she helped us put on last night. Think of anything else.” Images of River’s broad smile and snarky attitude come to mind, and my shoulders sag at the memories in tune with his.
“Those were good times,” he whispers with a nod. The more I rub his back, the calmer he becomes, and soon, all his anxiety leaves. Sure, the image will live inside him forever. There’s nothing I can do about that. But for now, I can ease his worries.
“Yeah, because you finally got your dick sucked by a gorgeous chick,” Rad quips, coming to rest beside him. “Let those be the images you think about forever. You gotta block that depressing shit out.”
“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Kieran growls, jumping to his feet.
Under normal circumstances, I’d tell his ass to sit down and take a chill pill. But Kieran’s emotions are in the driver’s seat, controlling his actions. There’s no stopping him from doing stupid shit like marching toward Van like he’s about to chew him up and spit him out. Only this time, Kieran won’t leave any bones behind.
“Fuck sake,” I grumble, jumping up to catch him by the scruff of his shirt and haul him back. “We’re in public. Unless you want Nigel to beat your ass even worse,” I mumble the last part, earning a scowl. “I’ll make him leave,” I say, silently pleading with the idiot to sit down.
“Fine. I can’t look at his stupid face anymore,” he grumbles, turning on his toes and plopping back down in the chair with a grunt. Running a hand over his face, he closes his eyes and hopefully counts to ten.
I shove my hands in my pockets and walk toward Van, sitting a good thirty feet away with an ice pack resting against his swollen face. If one good thing came out of this situation, it’s the bruising on Van’s pathetic face.
“My suggestion would be to leave,” I say, sitting beside him. “Unless you want my idiot brother to rip your face off. Again,” I huff, rolling my eyes. “Look at him; he wants to march over and put his fist through your teeth.” A chuckle works its way up my throat when Van stiffens, clearly threatened by the big dummy death-glaring in his direction.
That’s right, Van. Be deeply afraid of him. He’s had years and years of pent-up aggression. And he’d be excited to use it on you.
“I’m waiting to hear how she’s doing,” Van stubbornly grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I’m curious,” I say, slumping down into the seat. Running my fingertips along my chin, I pop my eyebrow when I pique his interest. “How would Whitley feel about you being here, waiting for River to get released?”
“What the hell does it matter to you, man?” he asks through gritted teeth. “Why’re you so damn hellbent on telling her anything? She has nothing to do with any of this. River is my….”
