She looks… peaceful. She’s got pipes and tubes coming from her and a big white bandage on her cheek probably covering either a burn or a laceration, but other than that, she just looks… at peace.
“She’s not going to make it, is she?” Jodie says quietly, her voice strangely steady.
“I don’t know, baby.”
“This probably sounds stupid, and I hope I’m wrong, but I kinda feel like she’s already gone.”
My heart pounds at her words, wishing they weren’t true for both her and Jesse. But I fear she might just know what she’s talking about.
The two of them have been close since they were young kids. They obviously shared a connection.
“Come sit.” Tugging her to the side of Sara’s bed, I lower down, placing her on my lap. She cuddles into me, although she keeps her eyes on her friend.
Her body trembles with pent-up emotion, but she doesn’t do or say anything else, and I allow her the time and the silence—as much as we can get of it with the machines working away.
I have no idea how long we sit there. I guess it can’t be all that long, because there’s no way Jesse would leave for longer than necessary.
When the door quietly opens and he steps inside, he looks better. A hell of a lot better than he did earlier. Although, it’s still easy to see the agony in his eyes. Just like Jodie, his grief is already etched into his every feature. It makes me wonder if he senses the same thing she does.
“Hey,” Jodie breathes, uncurling herself from my lap. “Do you feel—” She cuts herself off, aware that there’s no way a shower and a change of clothes could actually make him feel better.
“Clean?” he grunts. “Yeah, I guess. Anything?”
Jodie shakes her head while Jesse studies her reaction to this situation.
“You feel it too, don’t you?” he says quietly, turning his attention back to Sara again.
Jodie climbs off my lap and goes to him, throwing her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest while he clings to her as if she’s his lifeline.
* * *
We stay with him until a nurse pokes her head in to say that Sara’s parents are on their way, and I’m forced to watch as both Jesse and Jodie say goodbye to her.
The lump in my throat is so fucking huge I can barely breathe as Jodie lowers over her friend and presses her lips to her brow, whispering all kinds of sweet things to her as Jesse falls apart.
I’ve been through some shit, but this is by far the most gut-wrenching.
After a few more seconds, Jodie stands and takes one long final look at Sara before turning to me and striding toward the door with her head held high.
Her strength astounds me as she slips past and steps out of the room.
I quickly follow but come up short when I find her staring at three guys all sitting patiently in a row on the chairs we were on not so long ago.
Jodie’s brow wrinkles, having not met the scary-arse motherfuckers before. But something tells me that if she gets on with Jesse, it won’t be hard for her to see something softer in each of them.
Each of them is sporting the evidence of the brutality they endured from the night before. Swollen eyes, split lips and bruised jaws are probably the least of the injuries they walked away with. But they’re here, and that speaks volumes for how much they care about Jesse.
“Doukas,” Archer says, clearly not expecting to find me here.
“Archer, Dax, Jace, this is Jodie. Sara’s friend,” I say as an introduction. “Jesse is still in there.”
“Good to finally meet you, Jodie,” Archer says. His eyes twinkle with amusement, but it doesn’t show in his voice. The situation is too dire for that.
“How’s our boy doing?” Dax asks.
“He’s—” Jodie’s words are cut off when the door closes behind us and the man in question joins us.
“Fuck, man.”