Sixteen

SIXTEEN

Elias

It had been morning, late morning, but morning still, when I had dropped her off.

When she finally walked out of the hospital, it was so late it might as well have been morning again.

She looked weary, worn out, and the undeniable need to protect her almost overwhelmed me.

I got out of the car and put my arm around her as she approached.

Then I got her settled and started to drive.

“You didn’t have to wait,” she said.

It was almost reflexive, the way she tried to push away my help.

But I was having none of it.

I didn’t answer and kept driving. When I looked over, I noticed that she was dozing, but I still asked, “How is he?”

“You care?” she said. Then she stiffened. “I’m sorry.”

“You care, and that’s what matters. How is he?”

“He’s going to make it, but he’s got to start taking it easy,” she said. Then she chuckled. “He doesn’t know the meaning of the word.”

I held my tongue, knowing that anything I’d have to say wouldn’t be helpful here.

“Your mother?” I said, subtly changing the subject.

“A wreck, but as good as can be expected. She forced me to get out of there,” Kayla said.

“You look like you need rest,” I said.

“So does she, so I sent her home in a car. We’ll check on him tomorrow. And if things go well, he should be getting out sometime this week,” she said.

“Okay,” I said.

“If you’ll just take me back to—”

“You’re coming home with me,” I said.

I was far too relieved when she didn’t even argue.

Instead, she sat there, still, quiet, things she often was, but it was different now.

Uncomfortable.

I had seen Kayla’s fear before, had inspired it, but this, the weariness, the dread, I didn’t like it at all.

I parked in the garage and guided her up to the penthouse.

She kicked off her shoes and then walked to the refrigerator, looking comfortable.

Like she belonged.

The rightness of that feeling was like a kick in my chest, so I did what I always did when confronted with feelings I couldn’t control.

I ignored it.

“What’s bothering you?” I asked. “Well, besides the obvious.”

She shook her head, then gave me the saddest smile I had ever seen from her. “I’m that transparent, huh?”

“Not usually,” I said.

“He let his health insurance lapse,” she said on a deep sigh.

Her voice was a mix of anger, annoyance, and distain.

“Did he say why?”