Sacrifice
“Nah,” said Gabriel. “Chris gets buried in his own thoughts sometimes. Leave him alone.”
He’s scared, thought Hannah. She knew guys like that, other firefighters who would lash out in anger when they were really scared shitless. But she didn’t want to say it, not in front of his brothers.
“I’ll go,” she said. “Make sure he doesn’t kill someone between here and wherever he’s going.”
No one stopped her, so she walked out of the cafeteria and into the main hallway. Since it was a Saturday afternoon, the hospital was crowded with visitors and staff, but she caught sight of Chris’s angry form pushing through the double doors to the outside.
She hustled to catch him, expecting him to keep walking, but he dropped onto the painted bench just outside the doors and stared at the sky.
Hannah stopped beside him. November air bit her arms and tried to convince her to go back inside, especially when the clouds released a few droplets to sting her cheeks.
“Freezing rain,” she said. “Want to come back inside?”
“No.”
He wasn’t looking at her, and she didn’t know him well enough to know how far she could push. Crystalline droplets were collecting in his hair and on his jacket, melting where they found his face and hands.
If she had to put money on it, she’d say he was sitting here trying not to cry.
“Can I sit down?” she asked.
He looked away from the sky and met her eyes. “Is my brother dead? Is that why they won’t tell us anything?”
His voice was so bleak that it caught her by surprise. She sat beside him. “No. He was alive when they pulled him out of the rubble.”
“Then why can’t we see him?”
“I don’t know.”
“Your dad is the fire marshal, right?” he snapped. “And you have no idea?”
“My dad doesn’t exactly talk to me about active investigations,” she said.
“I think he’s a suspect,” said a voice behind her.
She and Chris both turned. Hunter stood behind them, frozen droplets collecting in his hair and on his sleeves.
“Go away,” said Chris.
Hunter ignored him and sat on the other side of Hannah. “I think he’s a suspect in whatever happened at the restaurant.”
A suspect? Hannah studied him. “Why?”
Hunter shrugged. His expression was just as bleak as Chris’s. “He was at the scene of two major catastrophes. I’m pretty sure anyone in law enforcement can connect those dots.”
“I told you to go away,” said Chris.
His voice was so sharp that Hannah expected Hunter to snap back at him the way he had in the cafeteria. But out here in the cold, Hunter’s expression looked almost wounded. He was silent for a long while. “Why?”
The freezing rain picked up, and each drop hurt where it struck her face. “Because you don’t need to be here.”
Hunter didn’t say anything. He just kept letting the frozen precipitation beat down on him. Hannah wanted to ask if they should all move inside, but this conversation felt too precarious and she didn’t want to upset the balance.
When Hunter finally spoke, his voice was low, and the words came slowly, as if he had to think through each one to get it out of his mouth. “You’re right. I don’t need to be here. He’s not my brother. You’re not my family.”
Chris didn’t say anything. He kept his eyes forward, unblinking against the rain.
“When I moved here,” Hunter continued, “with my dad and my uncle gone, I didn’t—” He stopped himself, seeming to search for words. “I didn’t think anyone would ever get me, if that makes sense. When my grandfather threw me out of the house, I had like nine dollars in my wallet. I didn’t eat for a day. Hell, your brother found me just before I was going to swipe cash from a Home Depot cash register.”
Chris wasn’t looking at him, but he was listening. She could feel it.
“When he offered to let me help with a job—” Hunter hesitated. “He could have just handed me a twenty and driven off. Most people wouldn’t even have done that, you know what I mean? Hell, the school guidance counselor is paid to help me, but she just wanted to hassle me, and here your brother, who has every reason to hate me for everything I put you guys through—”
“He helped you,” said Chris. His voice had lost the malice.
“Yeah.”
Hannah knew this story. Michael hadn’t just helped Hunter that one evening. He’d offered him a place to live. He’d stopped Hunter’s grandfather from coming after the kid again. He’d opened his home and his family like it was nothing.
She understood Hunter’s surprise. She’d been surprised when Michael had told her what had happened to Hunter—and what he’d done in return.
“No one has ever done something like that for me,” Hunter said, then paused. “The other night, when I went after you—I really didn’t know it was you. I shouldn’t have . . .” He stopped himself. He pushed his hair back from his face and sighed. “I shouldn’t have done what I did. I’m sorry. I just—it’s been so tense, and I wanted to do something. I needed to do something. I wanted to help. I wanted—” He swore. “Forget it. This is stupid. Go sit with your brothers. I can sit out here.”
Hannah didn’t know this part, whatever had happened between Hunter and Chris to spark all this tension—and this apology.
Chris looked at him. “You don’t have to sit out here.”
Hunter’s eyebrows went up.
Chris shrugged a little and looked up at the sky again. “We’ve been up all night. I shouldn’t have been such a jerk.”
Silence fell for a moment. Hannah glanced between them. “Friends again?”
“No,” they both said simultaneously.
“I still don’t trust you,” said Chris. “I’ve seen you screw over my family too many times.”
Hunter nodded. “I know.” He paused. “I won’t do it again.”
“Prove it.”
Hunter held his eyes. “I will.”
CHAPTER 15
The day dragged on.
Hannah didn’t dare tell Michael’s brothers, but the sound of the gunshots still reverberated through her head. The gruesome pictures he’d sent her still waited on her phone. Even now, she couldn’t close her eyes without seeing them.
Layne, Gabriel’s girlfriend, and her little brother, Simon, had joined them at the table half an hour ago. Gabriel had looked so relieved to see them that Hannah had been surprised he didn’t run out to hug them both.
Layne’s father had been with them, but he hadn’t lingered. David Forrest had left his kids at the table, saying he’d be back soon.
And then he’d hustled off.
He’d brought a new level of emotion to the table, though. Where before there’d only been thinly veiled panic, now there was a shred of something like hope.
Gabriel’s hand was linked with Layne’s, identical to the way Nick held on to Adam. He’d leaned into her and whispered, though not quietly, “I can’t believe you got him to help.”
Layne had leaned back into him. “Sometimes he surprises me.”
Simon, who was deaf, had watched this, then made a disgusted noise. He signed something.
Gabriel had smiled thinly. “Whatever.” He’d flicked a pretzel at him.
“What did he say?” Hannah had asked.
“ ‘Get a room.’ ”
And now they were waiting again.
It had been almost twenty-four hours.
When Hannah’s father walked into the cafeteria, she almost did a double take. He was here? He’d been right here in this hospital and he wouldn’t answer her calls?
He didn’t look happy to see her either.
“Hannah. How long have you been here?”
She put the cards down. “Since last night.”
“Who has James?”
“Mom. Who do you think?”
Michael’s brothers watched this exchange like a game of tennis. Back. Forth. Waiting for something substantial to be said.
But her father was still fixated on James. “Have you talked to her? Is James okay?”
Something in his voice made her frown. “Yeah, he’s fine. Why?”
His expression darkened. “You should be at home. You shouldn’t be here.”
“Have you seen Michael?” said Nick.
The question derailed her father’s anger. His shoulders seemed to sag. “Yes. I’ve seen him. You can go up. He’s in room forty-four-fifteen. He wants to see you.”
They almost knocked the table over in their rush for the elevator.
Her father got in their way and put his hands up. “Family only.”
Layne and Simon drew back to wait with Adam, but Gabriel got in her father’s face. “Fuck that,” he said. “They can all come. We’ve been waiting all day—”
“He’s not alone,” said her father. “For right now, family only.”
That shut them up.
He’s not alone. Her father’s voice was full of foreboding. What did that mean? What had happened?
Hunter stepped back. His face was a little pale. “It’s okay,” he said. “Text me. It’s okay. I can wait.” When they hesitated, he gave Gabriel a shove. “Go!”
They went.
Hannah stood there for a minute, then moved to follow them.
Her father caught her arm. “You need to go home,” he said. Then he looked past her, at the others. “You all need to go home.”
“What’s going on?” said Adam.
Hannah couldn’t figure out the note in her father’s voice, but it wasn’t good. “What happened?” she whispered. “Is he dying?”
“No,” he said. “Physically, he’ll be fine.”
Physically.
She jerked free of his hold. “What happened? What aren’t you saying?” He wasn’t responding, and it took everything she had not to hit him. “What did you do?” she demanded. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything, Hannah.” He sounded tired. Exasperated. Weary. It wasn’t a tone she was used to hearing from him. “There are laws here. Procedures I have to follow. This has nothing to do with me.”
The elevator dinged, and David Forrest walked out. Apparently Layne thought she’d get more information from her father than Hannah had hope of getting from her own, because she rushed forward, full of questions. “Dad? Is he okay? What happened?”
Layne’s father put his arm across her shoulders and squeezed. “He’ll be fine. I’ll tell you on the way home.” He looked at Hunter. “Have you called your mother? I can drive you home.”
Hunter had looked pale a minute ago, but now he looked positively sick. “No. Why do I need to call my mother?”
“Would someone please say what’s going on?” said Adam.
Mr. Forrest glanced at him, then at Hunter. His expression was grave. “Given the events of the past two days, and considering his brothers are under eighteen, the county has stepped in.”
Now Hannah felt sick. The county couldn’t do this. They couldn’t.
“No,” she said. “Can you stop them?”
“They have a court order. The Merrick house is unlivable and Michael is in the hospital. I can’t stop them. It’s temporary, but—”
“No,” said Hunter. His voice was shaking now. “They can’t.”
“Wait,” said Layne, her voice breathy. “Wait—you’re saying—”
“I’m saying that Michael Merrick is losing custody of his brothers.”