Page 37 of Never Forget

Scott’s hand touches my lower back, and I find myself leaning into the comforting heat just a little.

“He looks so old,” I whisper.

He looks older than I’ve ever seen. His typically warm brown skin looks pallid, every wrinkle on his face seems deeper. It makes him look even older than he is.

Grandfather’s eyes are closed, but I can tell by the way he’s frowning that he isn’t asleep. Someone probably told him to rest and pissed him off.

“Nazario?”

I flinch, shying away from Scott’s proximity as I turn around to see my grandmother walking up the hallway, the sharp click of her low heels echoing off the polished floors. She looks just as put together as always in a silk blouse tucked into a pair of pressed trousers. Her silver-streaked hair is pulled into a neat bun at the back of her head, makeup perfectly done so her porcelain skin looks luminous even under the harsh fluorescent lights. If the circles under her eyes are a bit darker than usual, no one could blame her. Aside from that, you’d never know she’d been through an ordeal at all.

Offering a soft smile, I bend down to greet her with a kiss to the cheek. “You look gorgeous as always. How are you holding up, Grandmother?”

She pats my back and then waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, we’re just fine. I told you a visit wasn’t necessary.”

“I wanted to see you. It’s been months.”

“Yes, well, the doctor said he can probably go home in the next day or two.”

“That’s good news.”

She hums her agreement. “Well, don’t just loiter out here in the hall, come inside and greet your grandfather properly. Fix your collar. And take off that hat. Honestly, who raised you?”

I can’t help but chuckle at that. “Yes, ma’am.”

There’s no point in telling her why I look like a douche right now, so I take off the hat and let my grandmother straighten my collar. I have to bend down so she can reach around my neck. I don’t miss the way her eyes scan the ink that crawls up the side of my neck, but at least she doesn’t say anything. She only purses her lips and pats me on the chest when she’s finished making me presentable.

When we step into the room, Grandmother looks back at Scott questioningly. He’s standing against the wall a few feet down the hallway, trying to be inconspicuous. Except he’s not. He’s a very large person, and he’s also incredibly handsome. Like, Disney prince handsome if any of them were also bodybuilders. Gaston with Eric’s hair and face.

I snort a little at my internal thoughts.

“Who is that man?”

“Oh, him?” I clear my throat. “That’s Scott. He’s my bodyguard. It’s no big deal,” I assure her with as much nonchalance as I can muster.

My grandmother leans to the side to look behind me again. “Is that really necessary?” She seems almost offended, as though his presence is a personal affront.

“Wasn’t my idea,” I say, moving past her into the room to greet my grandfather, who is sitting up a little taller now that he’s no longer pretending to be asleep.

Walking over to his bed, I reach out my hand to shake his—A proper man’s greeting, according to him.

“Hey there, Gramps.”

He harrumphs in greeting. They like to pretend they don’t like silly nicknames, but someone has to shake them up a little sometimes.

“What’s this I hear about a bodyguard?”

“It’s nothing,” I tell him, then try to change the subject. “Grandmother says you’ll be out of here in no time, yeah?”

Another harrumph. “I should have been discharged already. I’m fine.”

My grandmother sits in the chair next to the bed and crosses her ankles. “Assuming they stop inventing reasons to keep him.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“They won’t,” Grandfather says confidently. “This place charges by the hour, and I’ve got excellent insurance.”

A voice from the doorway answers before I can reply.