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A buzzing starts inside my head. “You need to go back home?”
She shakes her head.
“Don’t you want to see Seth?”
“No. Not a good idea.”
“Why?”
“Because. I shouldn’t have talked to him in the first place.”
Again this? Ice grips my spine. It’s anger, I realize. Stone-cold anger, the worst kind. “Why the hell not?”
She flinches but stays her ground. “He was on the streets, and I shouldn’t—”
“Tell me right now, what’s wrong with people who’ve been homeless? You think you’re better than them?”
She takes several steps back, her face paling. “Please, don’t do this,” she whispers.
“Do what?” I follow, towering over her. The buzzing fills my ears. I feel as if my skull will explode from the pressure. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“Why do you take it personally? I didn’t do anything to upset you—”
“Get out,” I hear myself say. “Just go.”
Her eyes shimmer, and for a moment I think she’ll cry, but then she lifts her chin and leaves, threading through the chairs and tables.
I groan and sink into a chair. There’s a pain in my chest I don’t understand. I rub my hand over my heart.
What the fuck just happened?
***
“He’s gonna be just fine,” the doctor says as we stand around Seth’s narrow bed in the ward. “We’ll monitor him tonight and expect to release him tomorrow.”
Zane is lounging against the wall, chewing on a toothpick. “Hear that, buddy? You’re gonna be pissing blood for a while, but otherwise you’ll be back on your feet in no time.”
Seth grunts from the bed. He looks like hell. Two black eyes, his nose broken and bandaged, stitches on his swollen jaw and a sling for his dislocated shoulder. Nothing they can do for the cracked ribs.
Anger flares inside me, burning hot. He’s lucky he got off without a concussion or damaged organs.
Shane is sitting on the bed, his long hair loose on his back. He hasn’t spoken a word since his cousin was brought in and patched up. Sometimes I really worry about that guy.
The doctor leaves and quiet settles in the room.
“Don’t worry, Seth, they didn’t mess up your pretty face too much,” Jesse says and grins. “Guess I should go, let you rest. Let me know if you need anything.”
“I should go, too,” Ocean says, raking a hand through his blue hair. “Gotta open Damage, see if I can salvage any of the appointments.”
“Coming with you,” Zane mutters. “Call us if you need us.”
I watch them go. I know I should follow—I’m not an apprentice like Jesse, Shane and Seth. The shop needs me—but I can’t, not yet.
“You sure you didn’t see their faces or any other clue?” Jesse asks again, and I wait for Seth to grunt again and glare. After all, we’ve asked this question like ten thousand times already.
But instead he does something weird. His dark eyes flick to me, and his forehead creases. “Micah,” he rasps, “why don’t you go? I’ll be fine here with the guys.”
“It’s okay,” I say.
