“Did we miss him?” Tristan asked as we watched the last of the stragglers cross the finish line. “We must have.”

“Yeah, guess so,” I replied, though I wasn’t sure if I believed it. How could we have?

“We’ll start walking toward the park, and if we see him, we’ll text you,” Tristan said.

Nick and Brin left earlier because Nick had to work at the salon, otherwise I would’ve asked them to keep an eye open as well.

Just then I spotted Jerome. He was on his bike, and he cycled toward me as his gaze roved over the remaining crowd.

“You were farther up the route. Did you catch Kam?”

He climbed off his bike and wheeled it toward me. “No. Was going to ask you the same.”

My stomach throbbed. It felt like something was wrong, but I wasn’t sure what.

We found one of the volunteers, who told us there had been an accident on the route, and my blood ran cold in my veins. She got on her walkie-talkie with one of the organizers and then dispatched the information to us.

“Which hospital?” Jerome asked with widened eyes.

“They took him to Metro,” the volunteer relayed.

“Let’s go,” I said, heading toward my car, which was parked on a side street nearby. Jerome heaved his bike to the back seat, sank into the front, and I sped toward the hospital.

“I cannot believe this,” I said, smacking the steering wheel. “What the hell could’ve happened?”

“No clue,” Jerome replied, his face as shell-shocked as mine. “Accidents do happen in these events. Bikes riding too close and their tires getting tangled up, or a cyclist taking his eyes off the road around a bend. MLK boulevard does have its share of curves, plus it was raining, so maybe that had something to do with it.”

“Right, except Kam is hyperaware of his surroundings, so I can’t see him making a mistake,” I replied, knowing whatever happened had to be something out of his control.

“He’s only human,” Jerome replied. He absolutely was, so I didn’t know why I was acting otherwise. Maybe because he was always so strong and had his shit together, and I admired him for that, so thinking of him being carted away in an ambulance was surreal.

When we got to the front desk of the hospital, the woman looked up Kam’s information on the computer and then picked up the phone to find the right department. “Are you family?”

“Close enough,” I said, my pulse battering in my throat. “I don’t want him to be alone.”

“I understand. There’s a waiting room on the second floor. You can head there and ask questions at the nurses’ station.”

We strode to the elevator and punched the second-floor button. After stepping into the hallway and locating the room, we saw that Kam’s mother and aunt were already seated in the waiting area.

Kam’s mom was a petite woman with dark hair and expressive eyes just like her son. He definitely favored her. “Toi,” she called out, motioning to us. According to Kam, I was the only one of his friends to have earned a nickname since he’s known me the longest. The name meant small or tiny, which was exactly what I was back in high school. Thankfully I had finally filled out more in my twenties. My mom always said I’d be grateful for my metabolism someday.

“What happened?” I asked as soon as we stepped inside the room. “Is he okay?”

“The doctor tells us he broke his clavicle,” she replied, motioning to her shoulder. “And damaged his knee but not as badly.”

“They just took him to surgery,” his aunt said, gesturing down the hall.

“Damn,” Jerome remarked. “I know those injuries are painful. It must’ve been pretty bad if they have to operate.”

I winced. “Were you able to see him before he went in?”

“Yes,” his mother replied. “He didn’t look so good. The doctor said he will feel better after they repair his shoulder.”

“Apparently it will take months to heal,” his aunt added, her accent especially pronounced this morning, more than likely because she was worried about her nephew.

Well, shit. I sat down at that news. Kam was going to be bummed big-time.

We spent the next couple of hours pacing, texting our friends the news, getting coffee from the vending machine, and visiting with Kam’s family, until the surgeon entered the room.

“He should heal nicely with his arm immobilized in a sling. But he’ll need to be on bed rest since there’s also a small tear in the tendon in his knee. He might have some nerve damage in his chest because of the plate and screws, but he should be completely healed after eight to twelve weeks, though some patients take longer.”

“This is unbelievable,” Jerome commented, and I had to agree. Not only his shoulder, but his knee as well. They must’ve taken the brunt of the fall.

“He’s in recovery now, and we’ll let you know when he can have visitors,” the doctor said after his mother pleaded to see him. “If all goes well, he can be discharged in the next couple of days.”

We stayed in the waiting room for another hour, until Jerome had to leave. “I’ll go open the shop. Let him know everything will be okay. I got this.”

“You’re a good employee and friend,” I replied, walking him to the elevators.

Thankfully the shop was closed on Mondays and Tuesdays, so Kam had a couple of days to figure things out where his business was concerned. If he would even be lucid enough to talk about it. I had no idea what to expect. Just that morning he’d been in top racing form.

After Kam’s aunt left to deal with their restaurant, I stayed with Mae. I was Kam’s friend and he needed me. His mother spoke to Samantha to keep her informed, but she didn’t think she should bring Olivia until later. I texted both Tristan and Brin again to let them know what was happening, and everyone offered their good wishes.

“I’ll help any way I can,” I assured his mom, not wanting her to worry too much. She squeezed my hand, her brow furrowing as she looked out the window at the swirling leaves. Of course, she would worry regardless; that’s what parents did.

My gut churned with a memory of my mother hovering over me after my father shoved me in a fit of anger one night. “You been out with your faggot friends again?” He was drunk, and I was late for curfew, but he was always angry about one thing or another. She’d reached for my chin and whispered how sorry she was. But she stayed with him nonetheless.

As an adult, I understood how patterns in abusive relationships worked, but back then the resentment for both of them had steadily built up, so I just stayed clear most days.

“You can see him now,” a nurse informed us a short time later. “He’ll either be asleep or groggy. It’s very important for his body to get as much rest as possible so it can heal.”

When we walked into the room, relief rushed through me as soon as I laid eyes on my friend. Sure, he looked a mess. He was hooked up to an IV, both his right shoulder and left knee were in splints, and his leg was elevated with an ice pack resting on top. But he was alive, and Christ, the relief was sudden and deep.

His mom, who was a tough lady and rarely showed emotion—unless she was doting on her granddaughter, that is—whimpered upon seeing her son, and I felt like I was intruding on their moment.

When Kam’s eyes finally blinked open, he seemed relieved to see her, and as she patted his face, he glanced in my direction. Gratitude flooded his gaze.

“Nice job giving us all a scare,” I said with a smirk.

“You jinxed me,” he mumbled. “At the beginning of the race.”

I grimaced, remembering my break-a-leg comment, but then he cracked a smile as his mom broke into Thai to speak to him. He motioned to his shoulder with his good arm and then his knee.

Once she was satisfied with his responses, he turned to me. “I can’t believe this happened. All I remember is this…this cat running into the road, and now I’m sitting here in two fucking casts.”

“Was it a black cat, by chance?” I asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Uh, I don’t think so, it looked— You ass,” he said when he saw my grin.

I stepped closer and placed my hand on his good foot. “It’ll be okay; we’ll figure it out. Maybe get you a cat to keep you company,” I said, and Mae chuckled.

“Ha, ha,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Damn, and you know how much I hate sitting still.”

“Yeah, that’s going to be the worst part,” I said, patting his leg. “Listening to you complain.”

“Zip it, you.” Then his eyes softened. “Thanks for being here.”

“Of course.” Warmth filled my chest at the sincerity in his gaze. “Jerome was here too, and he said to tell you he’s got it all handled—”

“Fuck, the shop,” he spat out as if suddenly remembering. “So glad to have him.” He shifted around uncomfortably, then looked at his mom. “Bet that’s where Paa is too?”

After she nodded, he shut his eyes, looking exhausted from exerting himself.

His mom pushed his hair back from his face, which was beginning to bruise along his jaw, probably on the same side he wiped out on. Even still, it was the face of an angel. He was ridiculously beautiful, always has been. The fucker. “Now get some rest.”