Page 204 of Chaos

His mother, his father, and the woman he loves huddle around his bed.

Sharing Jello.

Fussing.

And he forgets about the bullet wound in his chest.

All he feels is his swollen heart.

As the automaticdoors whoosh open, I step outside for the first time in almost twenty-four hours. A breeze caresses my skin and I shiver with pleasure, inhaling deeply to fill my lungs with something other than sterile hospital air and fear.

Hours of pushing my luck later, Nurse Keily finally kicked me out. I wanted to stay overnight—I would’ve dropped to my knees and begged to sleep on the floor if that’s what it took—but Finn had backed the eviction.

“You need some rest,” he’d reasoned as if I didn’t spend most of the day dozing on his chest, and I pouted and used irritation to mask the genuine, all-consuming panic that gripped me when he suggested I go home for the night. Propped against themountain of pillows I pinched from a storage closet across the hall, he’d reached for my hand, kissed the back of it with a hot smirk. “And a shower.”

I’d scoffed as I flicked him on the chin, but I can’t say I disagreed. As much as I tried to rinse off in the ensuite attached to the hospital room, a grimy layer of stress sweat still clings to my skin, salty remnants of a breakdown makes my face itch, and I’m one-hundred-percent sure there’s still some blood in my hair, camouflaged in the mess of tangled red.

“Fine,” I stooped for a kiss, stealing another as I brushed my knuckles against his cheek to check for any sign of the fever the nurses keep warning of, and then I kissed him again before forcing my ass out the door without a backwards glance.

Now, I chew on what little is left of my poor fingernails and scan the parking lot for a taxi. When the doors behind me open again, I resist the urge to dart back through them. Instead, I shuffle out of the way of whoever’s exiting, peeking sideways to see if they’re trying to track down a ride too.

I jolt when my nose practically brushes a shoulder, and again when I tilt my head back to find the towering frame that definitely didn’t skip a generation looming over.

“Jesus.” My hand flies to my chest, settling over my pounding heart. “You scared me.”

Readjusting the purse slung over her shoulder, Mrs. Akello cocks her head. “You’re very jumpy.”

“Yeah, well.” I slip my hands into my back pockets, feeling the whittled figurine I tucked back there for safe-keeping. “It’s been a day.”

Mrs. Akello hums, agreeing. “Heading home?”

I nod. Something defensive makes me clarify, “I’ll be back in the morning.”

“I’m sure,” she drawls, crooking a single, neat brow. “Need a ride?”

God, no,I just about manage to stop myself from blurting. Forcing myself to at least try to look grateful, I jerk a thumb towards the yellow vehicle pulling up to the sidewalk. “I’m good.”

“It’s no trouble.”

I take a step towards the cab, more likely to throw myself under it than I am to not get in it. “No, thanks.”

“Lottie.” Mrs. Akello sighs my name, and God, she sounds so much like Finn, it makes me freeze. “Let me drive you.”

Tugging my bottom lip between my teeth, I nervously rock on the balls of my feet. “I would really rather not.”

Surprisingly—shockingly, actually, enough to have me jolting again—she laughs. “Finn said you were like this.”

Jesus. As if there isn’t a whole heap of possibilities for that little statement. “Difficult?”

“Honest,” she corrects wryly.

Now I laugh. When was the last time anyone accused me of that? “I think the word you’re looking for is blunt.”

“Bluntness is just honesty in a pretty dress.” A hand lands on my shoulder, and I stare at it with a frown as it pats firmly. “C’mon. Let’s get you home. You look like you need a coffee.”

I do. About four of them. Desperately.

I only follow Finn’s mom to the parking lot because I’m worried if I go looking for one alone, a little whiskey might find its way into my mug.

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