Page 188 of Burn Like An Angel

“Don’t apologise.” Ethan cuts me off. “This isn’t your fault. We understand the risks in this business, Ripley.”

“Still, his leg?”

“He’ll recover and live. Nothing else matters now. In time, he can return to work if he wishes.”

Throat thick, I can’t find anything else to say. I hitch the flowers higher in my arms and give them both nods. Ethan holds the door open for me to step inside the room filled with ticking machines.

Warner rests in a bed on the far side of the room, surrounded by countless machines. He’s hooked up to several monitors with bags of sedatives and pain relief suspended from a hook above him.

I quietly pad closer, placing the sunflowers on the folding table pushed away from his bed. Above the crisp, white sheets, his injured leg is secured in a brace, holding the doomed limb prone.

It’s hard to see through the stitched cuts and grazes that cover his face. I didn’t recognise myself when I stumbled to the bathroom to shower, but Warner looks even worse. He took the brunt of the hit.

“Hey.” I lightly touch his arm, scared to hurt him. “It’s Ripley.”

His eyes don’t open.

“God, I’m so sorry.” Guilt strangles my lungs. “All you wanted to do was help us. If you hadn’t come to the apartment… I don’t know if we’d still be alive. And look what thanks you get.”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“I heard about the surgery. We’re all going to be here when you wake up, okay? I promise we’ll help you through this. Just like you helped us.”

Adjusting the covers, I smooth the wrinkles out, making sure he’s securely tucked in. There’s a stray lock of hair hanging in his closed eye, the dark-brown hue stark against his sickly pallor.

I swipe the hair away, pushing it back from his face. “Thank you for being my friend. Even when I was hurtful to you and determined to make it on my own. You didn’t have to care about me.”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“I have the chance for a life now. I’m hoping you’ll be a part of it. I could use a friend.”

Determined not to start crying again, I take one last look at his face. For a whole year in Harrowdean, I took Warner for granted. Even when he did his best to provide the help I desperately needed.

I’ll never do that again.

I’m not afraid to care now.

Connections are what make us strong, and if he wants a friend, I’ll spend forever repaying him for doing his best to help. That’s the kind of person I want to be. Not someone who hurts others for selfish means.

Someone who helps.

The kind of person my parents would be proud of.

“Stop here.”

Pressing the brakes, Ethan pulls up at the curb. Aside from taking a phone call from his long-distance boyfriend in some faraway town, he’s been silent the entire ride into Hackney.

I look over my shoulder. “You guys okay?”

Xander, Lennox and Raine are all seated in the back of Ethan’s car. We’re all a sorry sight, wearing donated clothesfrom the hospital, our bodies bearing the marks of all we’ve endured.

“Tired.” Raine smiles sleepily.

“Cramped,” Xander grouses.

Lennox elbows him. “Stop moaning.”

“Ow. I’m injured.”

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