Page 119 of Limbo

We stare like we’ve never seen each other before and like we never thought we’d see the other again, both at the same time. Then he practically sprints across the room. He folds his arms around me, holding my head against his chest. I pull my hand from Jordan’s to hug him back the best I can for the awkward angle.

He rests his cheek on top of my head. “Never again, Cal. You are never putting me through anything like this ever again.”

I blink away tears and squeeze him tighter. “And you’re never talking about roller coasters again.”

His laugh vibrates through his chest. “I think I can manage that.” He dries his eyes before he releases me and moves to the foot of my bed. “Our waiting room’s getting a little crowded. You know three guys and a redhead?”

“Those belong to me,” Jordan says. I assume they mean Benji, Johnny, Gavin, and Felicia, so I give him a look, and he corrects himself. “Well, they belong to us.” He jumps up and heads to the door. When he comes back, he’s not alone.

Connor.

My brother rushes over to my less-injured side and leans over, cautious about how he touches me. I’m not as careful, bringing my casted wrist over to hold on to him even though it pulls at my ribs.

“I’m so sorry.” He pulls back enough so that I can see his face. His breathing is erratic, a few tiny scratches on one of his cheeks and his chin, eyes red-rimmed and shiny.

I brush the hair away from his eyes, unable to imagine what he’s put himself through since the last time I saw him. “None of this is your fault,” I tell him. “Do you hear me?”

I’m prepared for him to argue, but his eyes dart to Jordan. They stay on my boyfriend for a few seconds before returning to me, and then Connor nods. The exchange makes me think I might not be the only person my brother counts on anymore.

And I’m so fucking okay with that.

I’m surprised it takes so long for Pete to waltz in my door. He catches the arm of a chair on his way by and drags it along behind him. He sets it in front of the window and comes to the bed.

“I’ll be over there if you need me,” he says, squeezing my hand.

In what feels like another life, he was the one lying broken in a hospital. After I found him and ran for help, I stayed in his room twenty-four-seven, scared his mother would show up to finish the job. Looks like he plans to do the same.

Jordan seems to think he’s around for the long haul as well. He lets out a loud sigh as Pete plants in the chair, but his annoyance is only half-convincing. Trey laughs. I would, too, if not for the thousand knives lining my throat. Jordan snags the water glass for me. The water feels better going down this time. He sets it back and returns to his chair.

“Where the hell’s Cate?” he asks Pete.

“In the waiting room,” he says, eyes glued to his phone. “She was playing with the spiky hair on some guy named Johnny.”

Jordan laughs, no doubt imagining the tattooed drummer going through the same initiation he did. Trey convinces Connor they should go save the poor soul from her torment and find breakfast. A good idea since nobody probably thought about feeding my brother until now. Cate would have demanded food when hungry but not Connor.

They both give me another hug, and Trey tells me he’ll be back later in the afternoon after he finishes up some paperwork from last night. I know it means making a statement and telling my side of the story a few dozen times. Not something I’m looking forward to.

I’m smiling at the death glare Jordan has locked on Pete when Benji appears in the doorway. He grins on his way over, and without hesitation, he crawls into bed with me. The look on Jordan’s face is priceless when he slips an arm around me.

“Thanks for taking care of my Calico, man.”

“How the hell did you even get back here?” Jordan asks.

“I’m a charming son of a bitch,” he says. My nurse walks in, her smile much sincerer as she delivers him a cup of coffee. “Thank you, Sandy.” He winks at her, bringing a pink to her cheeks.

With a little convincing, and using Benji as backup, Jordan agrees to catch up to Connor and Trey for breakfast. He leans over Benji to kiss my forehead, and while he’s bent over, Benji plants one on his cheek. I chance a quiet laugh, and as irritated as Jordan looks with his best friend, he smiles at me.

Once he leaves, I readjust to better see Benji. “Can I use your phone?”

He slides it out of his pocket, and I open the camera app, flipping it around to look at myself. A condensed ball of anxiety lodges in my throat right beneath the lines streaking down my neck. Bright red and angry. The split lip, gash in my cheek, darkening around my swollen eye, and the pink hue to it and the other one barely registers next to the claw marks.

“Battle wounds,” he says. “Don’t think of them as anything else.”

I hand him back his phone, wishing I’d never looked.

A little later, Jordan returns with Connor and Cate. Benji slips out the door while Cate quizzes me about what happened. I keep my answers short and vague, telling her I was in an accident.

“You need to be more careful, Cal,” she tells me, stroking my hair.

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