When I surfaced again, Carter was fingerpicking his guitar to some song playing on his cell phone. Shane’s drums and Tate’s riff line were emitting in a tinny echo from his earbuds. Pausing, he scribbled something down, the lead of the pencil scratching over paper in short strokes and small circles. Music notes. He was writing.
Cracking my eyes open, I let my head fall to the side. He sat in front of the window. The blinds were cracked, and the moon was bleaching him with pale streaks of light.
Looking up from his guitar, he placed it on the floor, and rose from his chair. “Mattie?”
“Who’s Mattie?” I croaked. I shouldn't have fucked with him, but I couldn't resist.
Carter froze halfway to the bed and scrubbed his chin in discontent.
“Joking.”
“That's not funny.” Slowly, he limped to the bed, his leg obviously stiff.
“Little bit f-f—” the word seemed to cling to my front teeth, unable to slip past my lips. Like it was rooted inside.
“How're you feeling?”
“Stupid question.” Running my tongue along my lips, I realized how parched I was. “Ttthhhirsty.”
Opening the drawer to the nightstand, Carter pulled out a plastic stick with a small sponge on the end. “Let’s start small, ok?” Dipping the sponge into a small plastic cup, he saturated it and then squeezed it out again. “Open.”
I felt like a baby bird. If I could've drank through osmosis, the cup would've been empty. Gently, he placed the sponge into my mouth and swabbed the sides. “Any better?”
“Oh, please.” I didn't have the strength to roll my eyes. You’d have better luck irrigating the Sahara with an eyedropper. My mouth was that dry.
“I can check with the nurse to see if you can have some ice.”
“F-forget it.” I wasn't sure if I would still be up when he came back. Besides, I had too many questions to waste the time waiting for ice chips. “What time’s it?”
“Four.”
“See the baby.”
“You can't get out of bed, but I have pictures.”
“Duh.” I could barely get a few words out at a time, let alone sit up straight or walk. My sarcasm was a wasted effort.
Tapping the screen of his phone, he glanced at me and smiled. “I know sarcasm is in abundance, but it’s more effective when used sparingly.”
“Just catching up…f-f-for lost time.”
Carter held the phone out, and then mentally slapped himself. “Sorry.” Reaching down, he began peeling back the Velcro from my wrist. The noise was deafening in the silence. “Jesus, I feel like I’m breaking the law.”
“Wouldn’t be the f-f-first time.”
Lifting my arm, Carter draped it over my waist, and sprawled on the bed next to me. “He’s tiny, Angel, so don’t panic.”
“He’s healthy?”
“Perfect.” Holding the phone just between us, he started to scroll through the photographs. Tears immediately filled my eyes. He was perfect. “Yeah,” Carter sighed. “He’s a Whalen through and through, poor kid.”
Laughing, I lifted my hand and wiped the tears away. “His hair.” It was pale blond and fine as silk. His eyes were blue-gray, though that could change.
“I’m demanding a paternity test, just so you know.”
“Ffffuck you.”
“I think that’s why we’re in this trouble.” Shutting his phone off, Carter slid it back into his pocket, then fished my hand from between us. For a brief moment, he studied the feel of my hand in his before intertwining his fingers between mine.
“Carter…” Biting back the hope swelling in my chest, I pulled my hand from his. It didn’t mean anything. I was Mattie. Jake’s kid sister. He was just being nice.
“I’m sorry, Angel.”
“Please. Don’t. Not now.” Not ever. I wasn’t going to be that person. The one that trapped him into a relationship based on guilt and obligation. I’d hate him. I’d hate myself.
We fell silent, each lost in our own commiserations. Nonetheless, that white elephant I was studiously ignoring, stood in the center of the room, demanding acknowledgement.
True to my nature, I changed the subject by broaching another, equally imposing subject.
“Carter, where’s Haris?” I was hoping the conversation between him and Jake had been a dream, and not a gross integration of reality into my subconscious.
“Haris…?”
“The guy…you know…that kissed—”
“Kissed?”
“Kicked. Shut up. I hit my…my head.”
“Maybe you should go back to sleep.” Curling his finger under my chin, he looked into my eyes, as if I threw a clot or something. “You need your rest.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Averting his eyes, he fell back onto the mattress beside me. “I’m sorry, Angel. He didn’t make it.”
Fuck. I felt like he ripped open another hole in my chest. So, I’d heard right. “How did it happen?”
“You don’t remember anything.”
“No.” I swallowed thickly. Jesus, my mouth was dry. I had to work to clear my throat. “Nothing. He t-told me t-to buckle up. That’s it.”
“You’re sure you want to hear this? It can wait.”
Fighting another wave of tears, I shook my head. “I need t-to know.”
Adjusting his leg, Carter shifted his weight. “You were broadsided coming out of Tate’s driveway. The passenger’s side took most of the impact. Your head went through the side window. Splintered the thing. When Haris got out of the car to call for help, the other driver pulled out a gun. Haris tried to talk him down, but the guy just started shooting. It was the most fucked up thing. Haris—I’ll give the guy credit—could fight. He rushed the guy, beat the shit out of that mother fucker. We have it all on video. Tate’s security cameras caught the whole thing.” Dragging a hand down his face, Carter tried to wipe the image from his memory. “He was still hitting him when Evan and Taylor reached him. When they pulled him off the guy, he just collapsed. He’d taken a bullet to the chest. Not sure when. Derek and Matthew did everything they could, but he was gone before the paramedics arrived.”
Biting my lip, I closed my eyes, measuring my breaths.
“You can cry, you know. It’s ok. I’m not going to get all butt sore.”
It wasn’t like I could hold it back. But it wasn’t for the same reason Carter figured. It was guilt. Guilt for not loving Haris like he deserved. He gave his life for me, and for what—a kiss in the hall? A moment in the dark? I owed him so much more than that. I owed him my life.
Turning to his side, Carter nestled my head under his chin. Boy if that wasn’t a mindfuck, having him so close, while so far out of reach.
“The police have him, Angel. They’re going to put him away for a long time. Between our lawyers and Haris’s parents, he’ll be lucky if he ever gets out.”
“But if it was an accident, why did he pull a gun? I don’t understand. Have you t-talked t-to the police?”
“It wasn’t an accident. They’re still reviewing the footage, but they do know it was premeditated. He was parked down the block. As soon as your car came through the gate, he floored it.”
“Did they question him?”
“We can talk about this later,” Carter pressed. “You’ve had tubes coming in and out of you for over a week. I’m pretty sure you should be resting.”
“What did he say?” I insisted.
“He won’t talk. Well, he can’t talk because Haris broke his jaw. But he refused the police interview and got himself a lawyer.” Grasping his leg, Carter repositioned it on the bed, trying to get comfortable. “Jess and Richard are on their way here now. He's been making calls to see what he can find out, but he thought he might have better luck in person.”
Jess was Carter's older sister. She'd moved to Pennsylvania after marrying Richard, the band’s attorney. I'd imagine she'd want to see the baby, her nephew. Carter’s news must’ve come as a shock. She was an auntie. Jake Whalen’s little sister was the baby’s mother.
“I can’t tell you anything else, cause that’s all I know. Ok?”
Exhausted. I struggled to stay awake, but I was ultimately losing the battle. I’d spent the last of my energy grieving over Haris. “Ok.”
Carter snorted. “Good. Now get some rest. When you wake up again, we’re gonna talk about you and me and baby makes three.”
At the mention, I closed my eyes and let sleep take me.