The nurse finally looked at Ari, noticing the road rash on the side of her face and the cut over her eye. If she could only see Ari’s chest. Her frown said enough, but she ran her finger down the patient list.
“Room 814. Visiting hours are over at nine.”
The clock over the desk said 8:15. She’d pushed the visitation off all day, feeling unsure and confused about coming. In fact, Oliver didn’t want her to come at all, but she’d insisted and he was downstairs now, waiting in the main lobby reading a magazine. She wasn’t allowed to drive yet, not with the concussion, but there was no reason to stay at home. Not when she owed Davis a thank you.
Plus, she had questions.
Ari left the desk and followed the long hallway until she found the room. His name, “Davis” was on a slip of paper, tucked in the nameplate by the door.
I guess they didn’t get a full name, either, she thought.
She knocked and to her surprise, the door swung open, leaving her face-to-face with Peter. A crease appeared on his forehead and Ari said, “I just came by to see how he’s doing.”
Peter pushed the door open farther, revealing Davis in the bed. Their eyes locked and she smiled in relief. The last time she saw him, his skin had paled from the loss of blood and he’d been unable to move off the ground. Now he was propped up in bed, with a half-eaten meal tray in front of him. Her eyes wandered to the bandage on the corner of his bare shoulder.
“You should be in bed,” Davis said. His voice was soft and concerned.
“I’ve been in bed all day. I wanted to see how you were.”
They stared at one another.
“Since Ms. Grant is here to sit with you, I’m going down to the café. Want anything?” Peter said from behind her.
“Something edible?”
“I’ll try.” The huge man left, immediately allowing more space in the tight room. He also took whatever sense of ease there had been, even if minimal. She was alone with Davis, who was bare-chested and wounded. She found his skin distracting. Brown and muscular, but also battered and scarred. A hospital I.D. bracelet wrapped around his right wrist, while fluids dripped into a needle taped to his inner forearm. The leather band he constantly wore was strapped around the left. She saw the fresh wound he’d gotten from protecting her, but then also a thick, twisted scar, slicing under his collarbone. She’s seen it in her dark room, but under the glaring hospital lights, it looked gruesome. Her fingers twisted in the top button of her shirt.
“Come here,” he instructed, waving her to the bed. “How’s your head?”
“Better than your arm,” she said. He reached out and she bent over so he could see her face. Davis cupped her chin in his hand and ran a thumb lightly over the spot. Ari winced and he pulled his hand back.
“Peter said you have a concussion. Did you drive here?”
“No.” She rolled her eyes. “Oliver’s downstairs.”
“Your boyfriend? The one you came with last night?”
“My roommate. Oliver’s not my boyfriend,” she laughed. Her boyfriend, or almost boyfriend, didn’t know about the shooting yet. “That’d be like dating my brother.”
Davis pointed at a chair near the bed and said, “You can sit if you want.”
“So,” Ari said, after easing into the hard vinyl chair. “Can you explain what happened last night? I walked out of the building and into a war zone.”
Davis shifted, grimacing with the movement, so that he was sitting up a little higher. “Antonio was in my program at one time. He wasn’t successful.”
“That sounds like an understatement.”
“I told you we have a small failure rate. He was one of them. He couldn’t commit to the program and kept going back to his old habits. Drug running and guns. Neither of those are acceptable.”
“Why did he come last night?”
“Guess he heard about the event.” He shook his head. “Honestly, I think he knows he made a mistake. Antonio has a lot of talent. He wasted his opportunity and he realized it. I guess he wanted payback.”
“By shooting you?”
“You know better than anyone that logic rarely plays into these kids’ actions.”
“What did he mean when he said I could be one of ‘them’?” Ari asked. “The drugs make him paranoid, Ari. He’s had a hard time with it. He went from our program to rehab. I’m guessing it didn’t work.”
They stared at one another for a minute, tension building between the two of them. Ari had something else to ask. Something to show him but she didn’t know if she had the nerve. After another moment of silence she broke down and said, “You’re fast,” while fidgeting with her blouse.
Davis nodded. “Very.”
“You got between me and that bullet. I didn’t even see it happen.”
“You were already halfway to the ground.”
“I don’t think I was.”