“So, what happened downstairs just now?”
A nervous laugh bubbles from my throat as I avert my eyes. “Uh, well… I kind of slapped the shit out of her, told her I was going to get her license ripped from her, and I kicked her out.”
Nothing is said for several long beats. After silence stretches much longer than comfortable, I chance a look at Anderson. His face is a deep shade of red as he takes in my words, and I’m not entirely sure if he’s going to break down or destroy something… maybe both.
Eventually, his features soften, eyes welled to the brim with unshed tears. “Thank you, Katie,” he murmurs quietly, careful not to wake Crew. The raw emotion is evident in his tone.
To anyone with even half a brain, the love Anderson and Crew share is painstakingly obvious. They look at each other as if their whole world is inside of the other. As if life couldn’t physically go on without the other in it.
“Hey,” I whisper, pulling back and forcing him to look at me. “We will get through this,all of us, together. You don’t need to thank me.”
***
Knox
In the matter of a few days, we’ve all basically become certified nurses, working on rotation. We’ve been taking turns looking after Crew. Branson and Luca just left. They spent the night alternating sitting with him, getting him water, whatever he needed, really. Before that, it was Aston. Anderson is passed out on an air mattress in our room. He looks like death turned over. It’s clear this is taking a toll on him.
It’s mainly why we started rotating.
My turn is next. I don’t know how I feel about it if I’m being honest. Me and Crew have never been as close as he is with some of the other guys. We got along, and we were friends, but we don’t share the same bond he shares with Aston or Branson, or even Luca. Pair that with the fact that I’m Kalen’s cousin, the guy he watched die days ago, and I’m unsure how this is going to go.
I don’t blame Crew for Kalen’s death. How could I? Kalen dug his own grave years ago. I’ve watched him kill himself for as long as I can remember. If it wasn’t the drugs that killed him, it would’ve been some psychotic drug addict looking for a free fix. This was always Kalen’s fate. I knew that.
Bringing a shaky hand up to the doorknob, I twist it as quietly as possible, sending up a silent prayer that he’s passed out already. Darkness shrouds the room, my eyes taking a moment to adjust. The scent of sweat hangs heavy in the air.
In the center of the bed lies a lump of unmoving blankets. My shoulders relax and I let out a heavy breath, thinking I lucked out and he’s sleeping. Until a raspy, weak voice sounds from the blankets. “You just gonna stand there?”
“Fuck off.” I laugh, making my way toward the bed. “Thought you were sleeping.”
“Nah. Unfortunately not.”
The closer I get, the more of him comes into sight. He’s lying on his side, shirtless from what I can see. He looks ghastly—nearly black bags hang under his bloodshot and puffy eyes. His lips are cracked and red, and his skin looks slick and way too pale to be considered healthy.
“How ya feelin’, man?”
“How does it look like I’m feeling?” he shoots back, sounding like it pains him to speak.
“Like shit,” I say bluntly.
A sound somewhere between a dry cough and a chuckle comes from him. “You ain’t wrong there. What? Is it your turn to babysit?”
“We aren’t babysitting you. We’re helping you. And yes, it’s my turn. You mind if I sit?” I point to the edge of the bed.
“Be my guest.”
The closer I get to him, the riper he smells.Goddamn.Anderson needs to fucking bathe him or something. Jesus Christ. He could wake the dead with that odor.
“Listen, man. I’m sure I’m not your favorite person right now. You don’t have to sit in here with me. I’ll be fine.”
“What? Why do you think that?” I ask, honestly confused. Have I made him feel that way?
“Your cousin fucking died, bro. While I was there and couldn’t fucking save him.” His voice cracks as he throws an arm over his eyes. “I’d hate me too. Fuck, Idohate me too. I get it.”
Shaking my head mindlessly, because he’s got it all wrong, I turn to face him a little more. “Crew… no. I don’t fucking hate you. Kalen was exactly who he was. If not you, it would’ve been someone else there. Or alone. Kalen was an addict too. He lived and breathed those drugs he sold, and it was only a matter of time before they took him out. Do I wish he could’ve turned his life around and saved himself? Hell fucking yeah, I do. But it wasn’t your fault, man. Quit blaming yourself for shit out of your control.”
He doesn’t say anything. Not that I expect him to. When I wound up in the hospital after my dad beat the shit out of me, it was hard for me to hear how it wasn’t my fault. The self-loathing when you’re already kicked down to rock bottom is real, and blaming yourself is the easiest way to cope.
“Look, Crew, I know our family situations are not the same, but they’re not all that different either.”