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20
Mysti
With my feetpulled up underneath me in my chair, I watched Miller as he dozed on his couch. He had what looked like every pillow from his bed tucked in around him, his head turned slightly so his bandage was visible.
Guilt still ate at me each time I looked at him. As much as he and Trenton and everyone else had tried to convince me it wasn’t my fault, I still felt responsible.
I did this to him.
I did this for him. So I could be there by his side, and look how it turned out.
My fingers worked over the piece of paper I held in my hands. I’d done this so many times, I was working on pure muscle memory. Fold, flip, fold again. Tuck, puff, then set it aside. Each of the origami dolphins was different, yet the same. The color patterns of the dissolvable paper had been what sold me on the whole project. I knew Miller was kicking himself for suggesting it, especially now, with his head in so much pain.
After finishing one more dolphin, I scooped up the ones I’d finished this morning and dumped them into their bag. I drank in the silence of the room, but the clock ticking in the hall served as an annoying reminder that time was running out.
The chime on the doorbell rang, startling me, and jerking Miller from his sleep. He peered over at me with half-closed eyes as I rose from my chair.
“I’ll get it, sweetie. You just rest.”
Rest was all he’d been doing since he came home from the hospital. Ryder, Mae, Luna, Fallon, and I had all picked up classes at Razor’s Edge so Miller could heal and the gym could stay open. He did so much for the community, but he was quiet about it all. It wasn’t until he was missing from the space that we all realized just how much he did.
I pushed the front door open without bothering to look out the window to see who was there. Years ago, I would have. I wouldn’t have dreamed of going close to the door without something I could use as a weapon close at hand. But since I’d come to Seaside, the impending sense of doom I had lived with my entire life had subsided.
Even if it was the wrong damn time.
“Trenton? What are you doing here?”
His long curls hung in wet spirals around his face, and his sea-foam green eyes flared with some emotion I didn’t catch before a faint smile lit his face. My mind spun as I mentally went through every room in Miller’s house, trying to picture whether we’d left anything incriminating out in the open.
“I thought you were supposed to be at work.” Trenton took a step toward me, and I took one back. The smile dropped from his face as he slipped by me into the entryway. “I swung by Whitman’s to see you—the waves weren’t good today—and Callie said you were probably here.”
Dammit, Callie.
I forced a smile. “I must have had the schedule messed up. I thought I was supposed to work today, but when I got there, they had Kiron scheduled. So I thought I’d check on Miller instead.”
Trenton craned his neck, peeking through the doorway into the living room. “Hey, man. How’s it going?”
Miller lifted a hand and gave a small wave. “Been better.”
“She taking good care of you?”
The smile Miller gave looked more like a grimace. “The best, as always.”
Trenton turned his attention to me for a split second before he slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He swiped the screen before I could see it and shoved it right back in. “That’s good. That’s good.”
He stepped around me, and I kept as close to him as I could as I followed after. I swept my gaze across the chair I’d been sitting in and the coffee table where the dregs of my coffee sat in one of Miller’s new Razors Edge mugs. I saw nothing out of place, nothing that might make Trenton think something was going on.
“How’s your head?”
Miller shrugged one shoulder, but before he could respond, Carson came out of the kitchen, carrying a tray of food.
“Hey, I thought I heard your voice.”
I rushed around Trenton, taking the mug of fresh coffee and Miller’s water off the tray so Carson wouldn’t spill when he set it down on the table.
“How’s it going?” Trenton asked, extending his hand toward Carson to shake.
“Doing good. It’s been tough the last few days.” He nodded toward Miller, who hadn’t so much as moved an inch. “But we’ll make it through.”
