Page 36 of Say You'll Stay

Olivia feels the misery coming off him in waves and every bump in the road is a fresh reminder. The slash in Cole’s shirt is clear, and blood stains through the makeshift bandage, though she hasn’t seen the severity of his injuries yet.

It’s hard to reach the middle of the back alone. She’s tried and failed herself more than once.

He could get an infection if it’s not cleaned. If the wound is deep enough to require stitches, it won’t heal properly without them. She could help, but he won’t let her, so she keeps her mouth shut and doesn’t ask again. Yet. Instead, she points her attention at the low, soft song, courtesy of another CD, and how cute Lucy is snuggled against him in that sling. It may not be the best time to let her mind run wild, but the sight of him with the baby, so natural and easy,is doing things to her,despite her denial.

When they hit an unavoidable pothole, the cat sleeping on the dashboard bounces. Cole curses and pulls Lucy closer, pressing his shoulder into the door and temple against the glass.

“Sorry. The roads are all bad out here.”

“It’s fine,” he grumbles.

“Take some Tylenol or Advil? There’s plenty left.”

To her surprise, he doesn’t snap or ignore her efforts, but swallows two pills like candy. That’s how she knows it’s bad. He’d refuse if he could, no matter how hard she pushed, but this time it took no coaxing. When the burn gets worse, he might rethink refusing another set of hands. She’ll offer again once he calms down, and the medication takes effect.

A plume of smoke from the car hood abruptly halts their progress, stalling the engine and leaving them stranded in the middle of an empty, tree-lined street.

“Fuck,” she whispers.

He groans. “It’s always something.”

Exiting the car, they both gape at the problem. Cole, without thinking, pops the hood, earning a cloud to the face. He coughs and sputters and so does the baby in the sling who’s erupted into a fit of dismayed screaming.

“I’m sorry. Come on, it’s alright.You’re good. You’re good.” He’s panicked, looking to her for direction while rocking a disgruntled Lucy. “I got a bunch of smoke in her face. Shit, I didn’t mean to.”

“It was an accident. She doesn’t know that yet, but I do. She’ll be fine.”

Olivia’s not happy that her newborn inhaled car fumes, but it’s over now and Cole already feels awful. He unstraps the sling and returns the child to her as if he’d committed an intentional sin.

He’s already in a bad place, and this makes things worse. The baby is still screaming, Cole’s still bleeding, Flower is hanging from the sunroof by one paw, and the car is smoking out its last breath. They’re caught in a clusterfuck and the grumble of rotters emerging from the trees leaves them no choice but to abandon their only ride.

Cole grabs their bags from the back, pops the trunk, and snatches out another that the care home nurse stashed there. Then they’re rushing onto a separate side road, putting distance between them and the herd. It’s not difficult to get away, their enemies are slow and stupid, and breaking line of sight is most of the battle. Lucy continues to wail, though, and others are sure to follow.

“Over there, see it?” He points to a small, crumbling house peeking out from overgrowth and she follows his lead to the front door where he busts open a window and grants them entry.

It’s an older home, maybe a summer cottage, she thinks as they clear the rooms one by one. Dust coats the furniture and shimmers across beams of sunlight. If anything in here wanted to hurt them, it would have come rushing out by now, but she stays plastered to Cole, a baby in one arm and a cat on her shoulder, as they methodically check anyway.

In the end, they’re gifted good news when it’s confirmed deserted. Desperately, she settles on a worn sofa once it’s safe and offers Lucy the only thing that’ll earn her silence. A meal.

Cole busies himself shutting all the curtains, checking locks, and raiding the pantry. He’s got a table full of canned goods when she finds him later in the kitchen, staring out the window toward a withered, sun-drenched garden.

“I think there are tomato plants out there, and that big tree in the back will be full of walnuts in the summer,” he says.

“We scored. Those are my favorite nut.”

He shakes his head. “Is that right?”

“Yep.” There’s a dirty joke in there somewhere, and she purses her lips in a tease before changing the subject. “Did you see the playpen? They had children here.”

“Lucy can use that?”

“Not yet, but eventually.”

“I’m really sorry,” he says. “I gave your baby a whole lungful of smoke. Dunno, what I was thinking.”

“Cole, she’s okay. It was two seconds before you moved away. She’s not holding any grudges.”

He nods, but remains unconvinced.

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