Zane pats Shane’s back, his eyes pensive. “Yeah.”
Although it’s not long past midday, the day is dark, the drizzle persistent. The alley Shane leads us into is narrow and dank, filled with a disconcerting mixture of smells—the stench of trash and the delicious aroma of grilled meat and vegetables in sauce from the restaurant kitchens opening into it. Huge dumpsters rise in regular intervals, like hunched over giants in the gloom and the drizzle.
At first I can’t see him anywhere, and I start to panic.
“He’s not here,” I whisper, wrapping myself more tightly in my coat. “Shit, Shane, he’s not—”
“He’s here.” Shane strides ahead, pushing back the hood of his jacket, and crouches beside what I’d taken to be a pile of old rags. “Seth!”
I don’t know when I start running, but suddenly we’re all kneeling in the rain, around Seth.
Seth, oh God. He doesn’t react at first when Shane shakes him, his head rolling back. He’s wrapped up in a quilt, and despite the fact he’s holed up under a fire escape, he’s soaked through.
“Something’s wrong,” Shane says.
He’s right. Something’s off. Seth’s cheeks are flushed, warm to the touch, where I expected them to be ice-cold.
Fever? I put my hand on his shoulder, and he cries out, a strangled sound. His eyes glitter as they open.
“Jesus.” I help Shane to sit him up, careful not to touch his shoulder again. Through his soaked jacket, it looks odd, lower than the other one. “Is his shoulder dislocated?”
Shane curses. “When I punched him, he fell. He seemed to be in pain, but I never thought… Fuck.”
And he’s feverish. No idea if it’s connected or not, but I don’t like it.
Don’t like it one bit. The fact he’s out here alone, that he thought he couldn’t turn to any of us for help. To me. That he’s hurt and sick and that we only found out he was out here by chance.
What if I hadn’t met with Zane and Rafe? What if we hadn’t seen his stuff in the dumpster and gone to talk to the landlord?
“I’ll get your car, park it closer, so we can get him to the ER.” Zane gets to his feet. “Throw me your car keys.”
I’m grateful he doesn’t ask me to leave Seth for this. I throw him the keys, he catches them, then he and Rafe walk away.
I lean closer. “Seth?”
“My shoulder,” he whispers. Pain cuts white lines around his beautiful mouth. His teeth are chattering.
Shane’s face is a mask of regret. “Sorry, man. Didn’t realize what happened.” He gets up, lifts his hands. “Just… sorry.”
Seth blinks dazedly after him. Tries to move, but hisses and flinches instead, clutching his arm over his stomach.
“I’ve got you.” I help him settle his arm in his lap, swallow hard. “It’s going to be fine. We’ll take care of you.”
His eyes lift, settling on me, heavy-lidded. Dark like outer space. “Manon?”
“I’m here.”
I watch his gaze slowly brighten. A faint smile curves his lips. “You’re here.”
“Yeah.” Lifting my hand to his face, I cup his jaw. “That’s right. So glad I found you.”
His breath shudders.
“And you should hurry up,” I tell him, swallowing back tears, “to get well so you can teach me some more things, okay?”
“For Fred?”
I shake my head, my heart slamming against my ribs. “No more Fred. I’m done with him. For you. Just you.”
How was I so blind before?
“Not good for you,” he whispers. His throat works. “I’m an ex-con connected to drugs.”
“I don’t care. I don’t believe you did any of that.” I run my thumb over his cheekbone. “In fact, I think I love you, Seth Tucker.”
He stares at me, those dark eyes open wide. He reaches up, puts his bigger hand over mine. “You’re joking. This is a dream.”
“No, it’s not, Seth. You’re the one I want.”
His smile comes back full force. “That’s good,” he whispers, his eyes closing. “Because I’ve loved you from the start.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Seth
The journey to the ER takes place in a kind of weird haze. My head feels a size too big for my neck, and even the pain doesn’t seem to clear it. Plus, every movement, every bump in the road jostles my shoulder, and my jaw’s clenched so hard it creaks.
But Manon is there, beside me, her hand on top of mine, and nothing else matters. Even if I have no place to go, if Zane and Rafe want me far from Damage Control, if I don’t have a penny to my name.
“I think I love you.”
Did she mean it? Could she change her mind? Will she stay?
She said it’s not a dream, but what if it is? What if I wake up, curled up in that alley, alone? What if I dreamed her up?
I dreamed a lot wrapped up in my quilt—of Manon walking away, of Shane’s anger, of my mom’s betrayal. Nightmare after nightmare, sinking claws into my mind, tearing my thoughts apart.
And now I’m back at the hospital. Joy. I let the guys manhandle me into a wheelchair, roll me inside. Let the doctors poke me and prod me, ask me questions.
Zane, Rafe and Shane stay outside the examination room. Shane won’t look me in the eye. He feels guilty for punching me, dislocating my shoulder. I’ll need to talk to him later. Tell him I understand. That he was right: I’m the one who got him in this mess in the first place. I deserved that punch, and his anger.
Need to talk to Zane and Rafe, too. Ask them to take Shane back in. Explain he was collateral damage. Nothing that happened three years ago was his fault – and he needs a family, much more than I ever have.
Hell. I press my fist to my aching chest as the doctor says something about broken ligaments and possible surgery. The pressure is back.
“Depending on what?” I ask.
“The x-rays. The fever is sometimes a side effect of a broken bone. Let’s wait and see the results. Come with me, Mr. Tucker.”
I look over my shoulder at Manon, fully expecting her to leave, or simply go up in smoke and vanish.
She doesn’t. She smiles at me, and comes to stand by the bed.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she says, as if reading my mind.
Makes me wonder about the expression on my face. Makes me wonder about lots of things, but as we walk out of the room together, I don’t fucking care. I’ll hold on to this dream for as long as it lasts.
***
Clavicle fracture. Broken ligaments. Dislocation.
The good news is that I won’t need surgery. I may need one in the future if this happens again, but if I’m careful, I may avoid it. Antibiotics, painkillers and a shoulder immobilizer, that’s what I’ll need for now.
The bad news is… The shoulder needs to be set.
Shit.
I know the drill. Sit still as the doc injects the sedative, barely flinch when he takes my arm and pulls hard.
Fucking ow. Hurts in spite of the sedative, probably because this time I have a fracture to go with it, but the pain lessens almost immediately as the joint settles in its natural position.
Manon’s face grays a little, though, and she takes a step back. From the corner of my eye, I see Shane and I nod at him. He approaches, takes Manon’s elbow, tugging her away.
She shakes her head, pulls her arm free and comes to sit beside me on the bed. She laces her hand with mine. I look down at our intertwined fingers, vaguely aware of the doc talking, checking my shoulder.
“You said Fred and you broke up?” Need to be sure I didn’t imagine this.
“That’s right.” She squeezes my fingers. “Fred and I decided to be friends. Truth is, what I feel for him is more sisterly love than anything else. I can’t even think about kissing him or touching him.” She lifts my hands, kiss my knuckles. “Not like I kiss and touch you.”
My mouth goes dry. I want to kiss her. Dying to kiss her. “So you’re not with Fred. Or anyone else?”