“Awe Christ. I knew I should have stayed home.” Damien hung his head, pacing back and forth before looking at me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say his pallor turned gray. And if I didn’t have a long-standing grudge with him dating back to junior high and peewee football, I might have given him one of those awkward bro hugs. I didn’t know what to say, because thank you seemed not enough, and yet he still reminded me of the drunk asshole of just a few months ago.
“You’re so gonna owe me, preacher boy,” he grumbled, knocking shoulders with Hunter, who kept him from reaching me. I’d ask if he was drunk, but they wouldn’t take his blood if he was. I shook my head, letting it go, surrendering to the things I couldn’t change. Damien Hart was the same as he ever was…
“Boys. Knock it off. Throw sand at each other later. Not tonight,” said Kristen. We might have bad blood between us and a history of hurt and misunderstandings, but Remi needed anyone’s matching blood type.
“What about a universal donor, any O people here?” I asked. Part of me did not want to owe that little shit anything. Heads wobbled back and forth negatively and that was it.
Hunter shook his head and cornered his cousin.
“Come on, tiger. Let’s head down to the blood bank.” Hunter grabbed Damien’s arm, pulling him toward the long hallway that seemed unending from where I sat. We weren’t speaking but the gratitude I had for him was blatantly obvious when he stopped in front of me with a nod. I nodded back, saying nothing, watching Damien walk backward eyeing me up. I waited for his smart-ass comment.
Instead he looked at Kristen with a wicked smile. “Try not to fuck anyone when I’m gone, Pebbles.”
My ire was ready to implode.
This guy.
This fucking guy.
I had no words for his shit.
I half sat up. Andy’s hard grip on my shoulder kept me down as he groused at Damien, who smirked. “Seriously, dude? That’s what you’re going with?”
Kristen waved it off with a chuckle. I hated how she was used to his lame humor.
“He’s a rude asshole,” I growled.
“And the vampire nurses are going to bleed him dry. Relax, man.” Andy let me go and I sank back in the chair.
I felt like catching him and punching his smug face , just once. I needed it like I needed air, to feel my knuckles bruise because it had to be better than feeling like I couldn’t help Remi. He was a disrespectful fuck, not that I was any better, but I at least didn’t speak to women the way he spoke to his girlfriend.
Kristen laughed him off, punching him playfully in the arm. I expected him to behave like a complete shithead, but she kissed him hard and sent him on his way, escorted by Hunter.
If I didn’t have to worry about my job and how my chief already told me to stay away from him, I would have slugged him like our old football days, but needing to be there for Remi changed everything.
“Oh please, he’s just being a baby because he hates needles.” Kristen grabbed a cup of coffee from the machine, handing me the steaming mug.
“I don’t know, Kristen. He sounded like a disrespectful shit to me,” I told her, wondering what the hell she saw in that asshole. I mean, I knew, but I didn’t want to think about it.
“Yeah, but he’s all mine. Don’t be jelly.”
I chuffed.
“I got some pipes he can clean.” I shrugged, figuring an overpriced plumbing job was all I could offer him since he was banned from getting PBA cards. Idiot was lucky he got his license back.
Kristen sat next to me and leaned into my shoulder, whispering, “Kinky, my ex-lover, but let’s keep him out of your house for now. I better go hold his cranky hand while he curses and comes up with some huge bullshit favor you can owe him later.”
She winked. Kristen was a pain in the ass I loved at one time. Now my love extended to a non-touchy friendship full of smart-ass banter.
I was agitated, sitting in the plastic chair that sent painful aches up my spine. Waiting was torture. I choked down the steaming cup of caffeine, scalding the back of my throat. I vowed to never write Damien Hart another ticket as long as I lived if his demon blood gave Remi a fighting chance.
11
Remi
Weakness and emptiness filled me up at an alarming pace when I opened my eyes next. It was too bright and too cold in the room. It wasn’t the dark warmth that cocooned me earlier. I swallowed dryness down my throat and looked around the stark hospital room. My bed moved, or rather, I had been moved. This wasn’t the room I started in and worry clawed at my throat. Anxiety washed over me in waves of dirty water I couldn’t brush off. I came back for my son, but he wasn’t there and I wondered blankly if I died after all.
My fingers spider-crawled from my sides over the sheets to my deflated belly. I shut my eyes, wondering where my son could be and why I was alone in the room. I wasn’t hallucinating, was I? Everything below my waist, ribs, ugh…neck? Everything felt tender, torn, and raw. More lovely revelations that weren’t in any baby book I’d read.