Page 39 of Serial Burn

She thought she might have heard Nathan bite off a low groan.

“Glad you’re okay, Natty,” Eli said.

Natty?

She caught Nathan’s glare at the nickname and vowed never to use it. Then wondered why Eli would. Sibling stuff or something more? It was awfully crowded and her earlier assessment of the room’s size changed. It was getting smaller by the moment, and now was a good time to make her exit. She backed toward the door, not wanting to make a production of leaving. She gave Andrew a small wave and slipped out of the room.

He caught up with her seconds later. “Hey, you think it’s okay to leave him alone with them?”

She smiled. “Yes, he’s a big boy, he can handle it.”

“No conviction to rescue him?”

“Nothing wrong with his voice. He can holler for help if he needs to. Besides, I’m not the one who invited them.”

“Man, you’re cold.”

The words froze her for a brief moment. Was she? She’d really been teasing and hoped Andrew was as well. She just didn’t know him well enough to read him like she could the others.

Before she could find an answer, Lainie appeared and hurried over. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just here to check on Nathan. Speaking of checking in, I need to call the chief and see if there’s anything I can do when I return to the scene.” She turned to Andrew. “Can you let me know when you head to the station to question the guy? I’d like to listen in if possible.”

“I don’t mind.”

She nodded. “Thanks.”

A door slammed behind her and she spun to see Eli exit Nathan’s room and lean against the wall, head back, eyes closed, pulling in measured breaths while he clenched and unclenched his fists. Carlystepped out next to him and placed a hand on his arm. He pulled away and walked toward the watercooler at the nurses’ station. She followed, brows pulled in concern.

NATHAN LOCKED HIS JAWagainst the words he wanted to say and the pain shooting through his hip. Carefully, he leaned back and swallowed. Why did Eli continue to set him off every single time they were together? It was like his brother had suddenly made it his mission in life to be as obnoxious as possible.

He looked at his parents. His father’s tight jaw and narrowed eyes and his mother’s tear-filled ones sent remorse racing through him. Eli and he needed to keep their ... argument? spat? whatever ... to themselves and not stress their parents out over it. “Guys, thanks for coming, but it looks like Eli and I have a few things to settle before we’re going to be able to be civil. Can you tell him to come back in here, then go get some coffee or something and let us talk?”

“Are you sure you can without...” His father didn’t have to finish the sentence.

Nathan took a breath and shifted, then winced before he could stop it. Thankfully, the pain settled fairly quickly. “I don’t know, to be honest,” he said, “but I guess I have to try.”

His mother nodded and took his dad by the arm. “Come on, hon.”

He followed her out of the room, and Eli stepped in seconds later, arms crossed, eyes blazing. Nathan bit his tongue and willed his thoughts to settle down. It was not a great choice to do this while the muscle relaxant was still coursing through his veins. It might relax his filters too much.

Eli took a deep breath and pressed a hand to his lips as though physically restraining his words. Seeing his brother make that effort had a calming effect, and Nathan gathered his composure. “What is it with us?” he asked, his voice low.

“I ... just ... I worry about you. I love you and I worry about you.And while I know everything I say is going to rub you the wrong way, even with all my training, I can’t seem to not say it.”

Nathan nodded. He could appreciate that. “Eli, you keep saying I need counseling, that I need to deal with the ... incident. Ihadcounseling.”

“As a child, not an adult.” Eli looked at his hands, then back to Nathan. “Do you still blame yourself for the fire?”

“Of course I do. The whole thing was my idea! I wanted the s’mores, I wanted to do what I wanted to do. And I wanted to hide so no one would find us and stop us. I stole the lighter and I got us trapped in a shed with a door that often got stuck.” Eli flinched, but Nathan ignored him. “So, yeah, Eli. I still blame myself. I thought I’d left the door cracked, but I didn’t, and as a result, Danny died. It’s on me. I’ve learned to live with it. I’ve learned that kids do dumb stuff and sometimes that can have tragic consequences. I’ve learned not to hate myself anymore. But does it still haunt me? Do I still wake up with dreams of Danny’s screams echoing in my ears? Yes. Will that ever stop? I don’t know. Will I ever be able to move past that and allow myself grace? Again, I don’t know. All I know is I’m sick of you bringing it up, so if there’s any hope at all of us having a relationship, you need to let it go.”

The rant had exhausted him, his hip throbbed, and he wanted nothing more than for Eli to leave before he puked. His brother stood there looking like he wanted to say something else, then tears flooded his eyes and his throat worked. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Then we have nothing more to say to each other. Get out.”

“I was ... I need—I—could we—”

“What, Eli? Why is this about whatyouneed? It’s always about what you want, what you need, isn’t it? Nothing’s changed in that regard, has it? Drop it, man. You weren’t even there!”

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