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“You must think you are, since you thought I was talking about you.”
“Who else is here that you would refer to?”
I tap my thigh and Buddy comes running by. “Good boy.”
Emily rolls her eyes and rounds the couch to kneel on the other side, with Buddy sitting down right next to her. I stand behind them like a guard.
She gently presses the back of her hand against Griffin’s cheek and sighs. “His temperature is fine at least, but we can’t know anything more unless he wakes up.”
“He will. He’s too stubborn to die like this. We all are.”
She glances up at me and then looks out the door, where the sun is getting closer to the horizon. William shouldn’t be too much longer now.
Her hand slides down to his beating pulse on the side of his neck. She must like what she feels because her shoulders relax a little. She grabs the water bottle next to the couch and wets the cloth beside it before gently dabbing his forehead. I watch with interest while she cares for my friend, and I can’t help but wonder if I’m capable of earning that from her, too, or if I’m too messed up for it. My brother left me a broken mess, but I can still fantasize about her putting me back together again. The pieces will be jagged and some will be forever missing, but for the first time, I’m jealous. For the first time, I wish I was the one who was hurt and lying on the couch unconscious with her work of art adorning my skin, holding my organs in place.
“Where’s William?”
My gaze shifts from her hand that’s pressing the rag to Griffin’s skin, and I focus on her face. “He’s looking around for more supplies.”
“Like what? We have all we need right now.”
“That won’t last. We like to think ahead when we can. He promised he won’t be long.”
“He shouldn’t have gone out on his own,” she mutters, reaching for the blanket that’s covering Griffin.
“I already gave him that lecture, but please give him another one when he gets back. I’ll sit back and watch.”
She shakes her head and pulls the blanket back, then lifts Griffin’s shirt, exposing the healing wound. She runs her fingertip across his skin, along the outside of the stitches where the skin looks unbothered. “This was the second time I stitched someone up.”
“When was the first time?”
“Couple months ago.” She frowns and for a moment I worry that something is wrong with Griffin, before I realize she’s frowning at her own memory. Whatever she sees inside her head is troublesome, and I want to introduce it to Debbie. “When that guy stole our supplies and let the rotters in. I performed my first stitch job on someone who had been cut, but I didn’t realize until it was too late that she had been bitten. I put a bullet in her head myself.”
Interesting. “So there were more than just you and your friend?”
Her movements pause and her lip quivers as though trying to say something without saying something. I think I might’ve touched upon a secret of hers. I want to let it out. Watch it bleed all over the floor. “There were, yes. But that person is gone now.”
When she doesn’t elaborate, I decide to let it go for now. I know all about losing people. I still want to know all of her stories, though. Big and small, fascinating and boring. I want to cut her open—metaphorically, of course—and marvel at the goddess that she is. I want to read her story, and help her write the rest of it.
I’m getting attached. That’s undeniable. But I have no intention of severing what connects us.
“Do you think there’s a chance Griffin could’ve been bit?” I ask, looking at my friend fighting for his life right in front of me.
“Of course.” Her words send a rush shooting through me. Not a good rush, either. I don’t realize until right this moment what it could mean to lose either of my friends. I reach back and grab Debbie’s handle, but her next words have me pausing. “William and I checked over every inch of him. He wasn’t bit. We had the same worry.”
I breathe out a sigh of relief. The contrast of emotions is so intense that I need a minute. I stagger backward until I’m leaning back against the counter.
Griffin is going to be fine. He’s going to wake up and tolerate my crazy exactly like he has been since the dead rose.
William is going to be fine, too. He’s going to come back. And if he doesn’t, then I’ll go after him myself. I shouldn’t have let him go off on his own. But then Emily would be left to defend both herself and Griffin on her own, and I can’t have that. I can’t bear the thought of something happening to any of them.
I run a hand down my face. The reality of the situation hits me. I put myself in danger all the time. I find the fun in the apocalypse. But it’s too easy to forget that the possibility of losing any of them is very real. I don’t mind putting myself in danger, but I really don’t like it when they are.
“You okay?”
My eyes lift to where Emily is still kneeling next to Griffin and her blurry figure comes back into view. My fingers curl around the edge of the countertop behind me, and a sly grin turns up my lips. “Yeah, pet. I’m perfectly fine.”
Her eyes narrow. She doesn’t believe me. Smart woman.
