“I’m trying.” I sound unconvincing, even to myself.
“Get up! Before they make you the next target.” He picks me up and puts me on my feet, wary of others watching. “Just move, even if it’s slow.”
So we plod along to the hospital. The pent-up tears finally drop down my face, racing through the grime. The fear of suffocation consumes me as well as Wilson’s words. He knows my brother’s here and Cole’s hunting him down. I clench my teeth in anger and refusal to break, although my world shrinks by the minute.
Once inside the hospital, I attempt to clean my face in the bathroom. It smells like urine and feces mixed with other bodily fluids. My feet make a sucking sound as they lift. But nothing compares to what I see in the broken shards of the mirror—the turquoise of my eyes amidst the wreckage of everything else. Again, I’m reminded of my father and I hear his voice telling me, “Be strong, Lexi. You can overcome anything short of death.” His words bring me strength, and I resolve to hold it together.
Day Two of Cole’s Absence. Nothing makes me loathe work more than seeing Amber’s sly smile when Bruno drops me off and picks me up. I try to ignore the stares, but it’s pointless. They’re all speculating about my absence, about Cole, and the reason I’m miserable. Being here brings back so many memories of Cole, Alyssa, and the assault that it’s like a slow death of the soul. My body works while my mind wanders. My arms function, but my heart roams wherever Cole does. I imagine him strapped down with equipment, sweating in his uniform while tracking my brother. Could he really pull the trigger, knowing he’d destroy me in the process? My stomach does flips, so I run to the bathroom and heave.
“Everything all right?” Sutton says.
“Sure,” I say out of habit. It’s fairly obvious that I’m not okay since I’m puking.
“What can I do to help you?”
I don’t answer because I’m pretty sure he knows the answer.
“I know Cole’s gone, so if there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”
I sit back and wipe my face with a towel. Yes, he definitely knows I’m a mess. “Okay.” I wave him off. I stand up and compose myself in hopes he won’t report me, but he’s already gone. There are too many patients rolling in each minute for him to worry about my issues.
In the back of my head, Cole’s words keep replaying. “You won’t open up to me. How can I ever trust you if you won’t tell me the truth?” I try to convince myself things are better this way, but my mind swings back and forth like a pendulum.
I know he cares, and I know the danger we’ll be facing, but I’m not going to give up yet. My will won’t let me because I can’t function without him by my side. I can’t function knowing he and Zeus won’t be there when I get home tonight.
Day Three. Bruno and I train early in the morning. I wake up anxious and can’t sleep, so I might as well fill my time with something worthwhile. He punches; I block. He kicks; I counter. He takes me down, and I try to free myself. But nothing, nothing, fills the hole in my heart.
Cole’s worth being vulnerable, but it took his departure for me to realize it. I promised myself I’d never speak about my past—not ever. He might be disgusted and never at look me again—the stigma attached to people like me isn’t positive. Some days, I can barely look at myself. Either way, I might lose him, so why not?
Day Four. I go about my duties as if I’m having an out-of-body experience. I’m here physically, but my mind climbs the walls in hopes of seeing him. I never missed anyone this way. All the while, victims of street violence pile into the hospital. The business of cleaning rooms and aiding nurses should distract me, but it doesn’t. I’m hopeless. Ben takes another body to the morgue and I have to clean the room. I sit behind the curtain and agonize.
“Lexi,” Bruno says, leaning in through the door.
“Hmm?”
“I’m going to stand out here and wait for you, all right? Unless you want me to come in and help you. It’s been three hours and you’re still cleaning the same room. I think they’re getting pretty backed up,” he says gently. He knows why I’m a zombie.
“Three hours is a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”
“Maybe a little, but you know what I mean. If you need help, I don’t mind.”
“No, it’s no problem. I’ll try to work faster. Thanks for the offer though.” I grab the sheets off the bed and throw them on the floor. I pick up the pillow, throw it back down, and start punching the daylights out of it.
Bruno runs to me, grabs my waist, and hangs me in the air. “Chill out,” he says. He holds me there.