Page 79 of Broken Roads
"You're going to be fine," I tell him, forcing confidence I don't feel into my voice. "You hear me? Don't you dare check out on us. Not today."
Dad's eyes find mine, clearer now despite the pain etched into every line of his face. His lips move, and I lean closer to catch his whispered words.
"Don't fight," he manages, each word an effort. "You... brothers."
The simplicity of his plea cuts straight to my core. Even now, even in agony, his greatest concern is for his sons to make peace. The realization brings a hot sting of tears to my eyes that I rapidly blink away.
"Don't worry about that now," I say, squeezing his hand gently. "Just focus on staying with us."
The paramedics burst through the door with Sebastian leading them, pointing and explaining in rapid medical shorthand. I'm pushed aside as they surround Dad, checking vitals, attaching monitors, and sliding an oxygen mask over his face.
Hailey's arm circles my waist, holding me upright as I watch strangers take control of my father's fate. I want to tell them he's tough as old leather, that he survived losing his wife when we were just kids, that it takes more than a weak heart to kill a Walker. But the words stick in my throat.
Sebastian stands at the edge of the activity, arms crossed tightly over his chest. For the first time, I notice how exhausted he looks. How the confident doctor persona hides something rawer beneath.
My chest still burns with anger at him, but it's tempered now by the shared terror of possibly losing our father. I hold Hailey tighter, drawing strength from her presence, and prepare for the longest wait of my life.
If Dad survives this, we'll have to find a way forward—me, Sebastian, all of us. And if he doesn't...
I can't even finish the thought. Some possibilities are too devastating to acknowledge, even in the privacy of my own mind.
Chapter 32
Bradley
Hospital waiting rooms are designed to make you feel like you're suspended in time. The same outdated magazines. The same muted TV in the corner playing daytime shows no one watches. The same vending machine with chips that probably expired a decade ago. I've been sitting in this particular purgatory for two days now, only leaving to shower and change, and even then I'm back within the hour, terrified I'll miss something important.
My body feels like it's been hollowed out, every ounce of energy sucked dry by the constant worry that's become my only companion. Well, not my only companion.
Hailey shifts beside me, her shoulder brushing mine as she turns a page in her book. She hasn't left my side since Dad collapsed, not even when Sebastian insisted on transferring him to this fancy hospital in the city once the local doctors declared him stable enough to move. I fought it at first, but even I had to admit Sebastian's hospital has better equipment, better specialists, better everything.
Just one more way my brother had to be right.
"You should try to sleep," Hailey murmurs, not looking up from her book. "You look like hell."
I snort, running a hand over my face. My stubble has officially crossed into beard territory. "Thanks for the compliment, sunshine."
"Not a compliment," she says, finally glancing up at me. Her eyes are tired too, dark circles underneath that match my own, but they're still warm when they meet mine. "Just the truth. You've barely slept since we got here."
"Neither have you." I reach for her hand, our fingers intertwining with a familiarity that still surprises me. Two days ago, we were tangled together under the stars, discovering each other's bodies for the first time. Now we're here, our newfound intimacy tested by crisis before it had a chance to find solid ground.
"I've grabbed a few hours," she argues, squeezing my fingers. "You, on the other hand, just sit and stare at the wall whenever I doze off. The nurses told me."
"I can't sleep," I admit, lowering my voice. "Every time I close my eyes, I see him on the floor. How gray his face looked. How his hand felt in mine." I swallow hard. "How fucking useless I was while Sebastian took charge."
Hailey's free hand comes up to cup my cheek, forcing me to look at her. "You were not useless. You were there. You held his hand. You called the ambulance."
"After Sebastian told me to."
She shakes her head, refusing to let me wallow. "You're being too hard on yourself. Of course Sebastian knew what to do, he's a doctor. That's his job." Her thumb traces the dark circle under my eye. "And your job right now is to take care of yourself so you can be there for your dad when he wakes up."
Dad.
The doctors—Sebastian's colleagues, all impossibly young and serious in their white coats—say he's stabilized. That the tests are promising. That we should be "cautiously optimistic." Whatever the fuck that means. Medical speak for "we don't want to commit to saying he'll be fine."
"I don't know what I'd do without you here," I tell her, the words slipping out before I can catch them. "These past two days... having you beside me..." I trail off, unsure how to express what her presence means.
A smile touches her lips. "Where else would I be?"
