Disorderly Conduct (The Academy #1)

There’s a loose thread in the waiting room carpet. It’s squiggly and beige, just to the right of my boot. And I wonder if it’s the one squiggly, beige thread that has gotten the most attention in the world, from shell-shocked family members needing something to focus on besides the waiting room door. I wouldn’t notice it any other day, but kind of like the gurgling drain back in the locker room, it’s reminding me I’m awake. Whether or not being lucid is a good thing? That’s debatable.

My father was brought into the emergency room at Lenox Hill in critical condition. Me, Greer, Jack and Danika had to push through a sea of reporters to reach the entrance, some of them recognizing my brother, although they hadn’t gotten a single word out of him. Nor had I. After he’d ordered the waiting room television shut off, he’d sat down across from me, stone-faced and eerily silent, where he still remains. My friends have gone off in pursuit of coffee, which I’m grateful for, because I can feel them watching me helplessly, but can’t form the right responses to let them know I’m all right. I’m not all right.

Chief Xavier Burns is supposed to be immortal. It never really crossed my mind that he was human. Children are supposed to grow out of that belief regarding their parents long before now, but none of them were raised by my father. I’ve never seen him show a weakness and yet—until Greer had demanded they shut off the evening news—they continued to replay the footage of him collapsing. His face paling, that iron fist clutching at his chest, legs giving way. I’m never going to get the image out of my mind.

And I’m never going to forget what occurred to me after the doctors confirmed our father was still alive, still fighting. I’d thought, we will all die. I could die. I will die. Maybe it’ll be seventy years from today, but it’s going to happen. All the achievements and commendations and records my father has earned? They didn’t mean anything when the EMTs loaded him onto the stretcher. He hadn’t asked for his medals or appointment book. According to my father’s assistant, he’d asked for his sons.

And he’d begged for his wife, who of course, no one knew how to reach.

Because she was long gone.

Hearing that, I’d called Ever before I registered the shaking phone in my hand, my fingers punching the wrong buttons eighty times until I finally got it right. So that’s where I’m at right now. In this cold, lonely, terrified place. I’m praying to every god of every religious denomination that Ever walks through the waiting room door, so I can lock her in my arms and throw away the key. I don’t want to beg for her on my death bed. I want her now. Want her every day. And I’m terrified that it’s too late. If she’s only coming to the hospital to be a good friend, I would completely understand. I haven’t been worthy, but if she shows up, I swear to all the gods, I will die making up for it.

The waiting room door opens, bringing Greer and me shooting to our feet. Jack walks in, followed by Danika, who says, “Found someone in the lobby.”

It’s Ever. It’s Ever. I break the law of physics lunging across the room, dropping my face into her neck and breathing, breathing for the first time in hours. “You came.” I look like such a pussy, leaning my entire body on this girl who I outweigh by several dozen pounds and I don’t give a shit. “Thank you for coming.”

She drops her purse on the ground, wrapping both arms around my waist. “Of course I came,” she breathes near my ear. “Is there any news?”

“Not yet,” I rasp. “Can you come with me for a minute? We need to talk, and it can’t wait.”

I glance over at Greer, wishing for the first time we were the kind of family who didn’t shut down when something bad happened. Maybe I’ll get the ball rolling. I have to, because it doesn’t work for me anymore. “We’ll be out in the hall. Come find me when the doctor comes?”

I wait for my brother’s barely noticeable finger flick, then I take Ever’s hand, leading her past the tense, busy nurses’ station. A few of them watch us go by with interest, but I’m so focused on getting Ever alone, I barely manage a nod. As soon as we reach the dim side corridor, I pull Ever into my arms and we crash together against the wall. Urgency pumps in my veins, demanding I suck in great, greedy gulps of her. My mouth moves over her neck, into her hair, across her lips. Inhaling, retaining.

“Everything is going to be fine,” she whispers, dragging me into the safety she began representing to me, somewhere along the line. “He’s getting the best care, and everything is going to be okay, Charlie.”

“But I’m not okay.” I pull back, cupping the sides of her beautiful, singular face. The face I see in my dreams and while I’m awake. I never stop, and I was a fucking idiot to think I could let her go. “I’m not okay without you, Ever.”

“Charlie.” Her eyelids flicker as she looks down. “You’re going through a difficult time right now, and you’re not thinking straight. We should talk about this when your father is out of the woods.”

“No.” Oh God, this is what I was worried about, without being able to pinpoint it. I’ve been so goddamn elusive and unpredictable, coming in and out of her life, she isn’t taking me seriously when I need it most. “No, you don’t . . . just . . . please. Look me in the eye. Before we fell asleep in your bed, before your mother called, I started to ask you to be with me. All the time, cutie. All the time. But I panicked when I heard those things she said to you. About coming home to someone every night. Having someone you can depend on. And I didn’t think I could deliver. I knew I couldn’t.” My heart has veered into a wild, never-ending drum solo, but I push. I push. Because I have no choice. This is do or die. It has been all along. I was just too stupid and short sighted to realize it. “But it took this fucked-up thing happening for me to understand. I understand now why I can look at you, Ever, and be happy and sad and horny and miserable and crazy and want to laugh—all at the same time. I’m in love with you. I love you so much. And you can depend on that. You can depend on me for the rest of your life. I won’t let you go for anything. Just give me a chance to show you.” I point in the general direction of my father’s room. “This job? It can work around us. This world can work around me and the girl I love. Okay? This isn’t a tragedy talking. This is what’s inside me and I’m handing it all over, because you’re the only one I trust to make sense of me. You make sense of me.”

She’s quiet for so long, I’m tempted to look for the closest window, so I can dive through it headfirst into traffic. But no. Even if she has to think about everything I said, I will keep coming at her. I’m not packing it in. I’m not giving up, so she can just—

“I knew you were a relationship guy all along.” She sounds almost awestruck. “Ever since you failed the test and said you cried during the wrong scene in Titanic. I knew you were a relationship guy deep down, and I still went home with you.”

My head is spinning. Is this good or bad? Do I need a decoder ring in order to learn my fate? “What does that mean?”