“Lemme see if I can answer all the questions I know you still have, in order of importance to you.” He grins. “A man knows his own daughter.
“It wasn’t just a little party. Some guys—Kingston’s buddies—trashed the pavilion. Nothing that can’t be fixed, but enough to be a lot of work, an unnecessary setback, and a huge pain in the ass. I saw two of them run off when I pulled up, but managed to catch three. Turned ‘em over to the police. And unless they rat on who helped them, they’ll be the ones paying for it all. Like I said, Kingston wasn’t there—no sign of his truck, either—but I trust Clay’s word and they were Kingston’s friends, so he’s going home, Echo. Already called his father. If you hear from him, you’ll be sure to let him know I’m looking for him. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” I scratch out.
“All right, then. Anything I missed?” he asks, while pressing the nurse call button.
“No.” I don’t trust Clay, but Kingston has been MIA all day. So unless he shows his face and tells me himself that he wasn’t responsible, I can’t really say anything else at this point.
“Then it’s my turn. Got a few questions of my own, young lady.”
“Sir?”
“How long has the sleepwalking been going on?”
“For as long as I can remember,” I answer honestly.
“Doctor mentioned sometimes a trigger or trauma can cause it. Any thoughts about that?”
“I’ve always been a worrier, Dad. Any idea where I got that from?” I grin, hoping he accepts it as the loving joke I mean rather than disrespect.
“Will you do me a favor?” He takes my hand and pats it. “Leave all that up to me from now on. You just worry about being the wonderful young woman you are, okay?”
I feel my eyes mist up. It’s the most special moment my father and I have ever shared.
“Okay.”
“And leaving it up to me means telling me, from now on, whenever something’s bothering you that badly. You’re my little girl, and it’s my job to slay your dragons. Give me the chance to do my job, Echo.”
“Promise.”
“Good. Let’s get you doped up and resting then. We’ll be back first thing in the morning.”
My father kisses the top of my head, then stands right as the nurse reenters.
“I love you, Echo. More than anything—except your brothers and your mother,” he says with a chuckle. “I know you want Kingston to stay and you’re afraid Sebastian will have to come home early now, but I need you to trust your old man. I know what’s best.”
“Yes, sir.”
~~~~~
I don’t swallow the pill the nurse gives me. Instead, I hold it between two of my back teeth so it won’t dissolve, and pretend to fall asleep so my dad feels comfortable leaving.
Now that I’m alone in the dark room, I grab my phone. Thank you, Mom. The screen reads that it’s just before midnight—which means Kingston hasn’t yet broken curfew, at least.
I call him first. I have so many questions for him: Where was he all day? Why didn’t he answer my dad? Does he know I’m here? And what the hell does he know about the destruction of my family’s pavilion?
On the third ring, the phone is answered. I perk up, anxious to hear him.
But it’s not his voice that speaks.
“Hello?”
I’d know that voice anywhere. It’s Savannah’s. What the fuck?
I hang up. Nausea, anger, betrayal—and did I mention anger?—all ricochet around my head painfully. Why is he with her? Was she part of the crowd that trashed the pavilion? Was he gone when my dad arrived because they snuck off to have—
Ugh. I can’t do this—cope with all this alone, lying broken and clueless in a dark hospital room.
I call my brother immediately. And I go ahead and swallow the pain pill, too, even though it won’t dull the ache that hurts most.
Sebastian answers, sounding groggy at first.
“‘lo?” Suddenly his voice cracks and he sounds more alert, riddled with worry. “Echo, what’s wrong?”
“Seb,” I sob past the gravel in my throat. I don’t care if it hurts—I have to talk to someone. This day, from start to finish, has been a real-life nightmare. “It’s all so bad. Everything’s ruined.”
“What’s ruined? Echo, what’s wrong with your voice? What the hell is going on?”
I’m crying, whispering so I don’t get caught with my cell phone, and trying to explain with a modicum of rationality. I tell him about my fall, and how I’m in the hospital. When he finishes freaking out, I move on to the pavilion-being-trashed story. And when he’s done flipping shit about that too, I tell him about Savannah answering Kingston’s phone.
“Well, that explains why he wasn’t at the pavilion.” He laughs faintly. “Kingston might really not have had any idea about that going on—sounds like he was busy elsewhere. Which is fine…better, actually. I’d kick his ass if he watched people trash our property.”
Huh? The medicine must be kicking in, because I couldn’t possibly have heard him right.