Page 141 of Chaotic Curse
She slides a syringe into the port.“This will help you rest.”
He tries to yank away.
I catch his forearm.“Hey.Hey.”My voice is a rasp.“Don’t fight it.”
He drags his gaze back to me.The edges of his pupils blur.“Listen,” he says.“I’ve got tolerance.”
The nurse glances at me.
I don’t look away from him.“I believe you.”
He nods once, heavy, as the sedative crawls up his veins.“Outside your door,” he whispers.“The night I…went down.”His lashes flutter.“Somebody didn’t want me telling you what I found out about Dad…”
Everything inside me goes still.“What about Dad?”
“Dad and…” His tongue trips.“D—D—D…” The syllables stumble, break apart.His eyes roll, slow as tide.He tries again.“D?—”
The last consonant dies on his lips.His mouth softens.The sedative wins.
I turn to the nurse.“Is he okay?”
The nurse is already smoothing the line, already changing the monitor range.“He’s fine,” she says.“He needs sleep.His body’s been through a lot.He’ll likely be out the rest of the night.”She lifts her gaze to mine.“You can come back in the morning.”
“Yeah,” I say, though morning feels a lifetime away.“I’ll do that.”
Falcon watches me from the door.
“I’ve got something to attend to,” I tell him.
“Reyes.”
I nod.
The hallway feels too bright.
I take the elevator down, grab my car from the valet.
The night outside feels wrong, air thick and wet.I drive with my knuckles raw from earlier, the bandage already spotted through.
The drive is slow and dark, but I finally make it.
The old barn crouches on the edge of our land.No lights.No sounds but crickets.
I kill the engine and listen.Nothing.Good.I want quiet.
Gravel crunches under my boots.The barn door gives with a long, complaining groan.
My eyes adjust quickly.
The chair.
My skin crawls with tiny invisible feet.
What the fuck?
The chair waits where I left it.
Empty.
