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“Hey, hey, you’re good.” Marty steps to my side, resting his hand on my shoulder. “You don’t have to explain everything at once. We’re here to help and make this easier for you.”
“Easier? Nothing is gonna be easier right now.” I hate that I just barked out my frustration at a guy who’s only trying to be helpful, especially since I wasn’t expecting Marty, of all people, to be the one trying to soothe my anxiety.
“That’s fine,” he says. “Bad wording on my part. Let’s all take some breaths together.”
As he guides us back into the exam room, I mutter, “Take some breaths? That’s not what I need right now. I need Lance to be okay.” When the door closes behind us, I spin toward them, my gaze drifting to their loincloths. Ryan’s jacket isn’t even closed, and I can only imagine what the others waiting in the ER thought when they saw him in this state. “What are you two still doing in those? You look like you just got back from a Tarzan convention.”
Ryan glances himself over as if unsure what I’m referring to, as Marty says, “We came right from the party. Given your text, pants weren’t exactly a priority.”
“How did you even get back here? Don’t they have security?”
“I told them we were brothers,” Ryan says. “Then this clown started rambling, trying to explain why we looked so different.”
“It soundedridiculous,” Marty snaps, sounding more like his usual dickhead, pain-in-the-ass self.
“Ash and Colin are stepbrothers,” Ryan says, “but they don’t go around qualifying it. Plus, it’s none of their business. They don’t know us.”
Marty shakes his head. “This is not important right now.”
Weirdly, their spat has helped me relax—at least as much as I can under the circumstances.
“I told them we were brothers too,” I admit. “Seems to work in movies. They took Lance back for tests to assess his injuries.”
“And you’re okay?” Ryan asks.
“Other than freaking out about him, yeah. Brianne said they might want to do some tests for me as well, but the nurse who checked me out didn’t seem too concerned.”
“Who the hell is Brianne?” Ryan asks.
“One of the EMTs.” No idea how the hell her name suddenly came to me like that, but I’m barely thinking straight.
“Well, you still got some black and gray smudges on you.”
Brianne had given me some wipes and helped me with some of it, but I’ve clearly missed some spots.
“Not my biggest concern,” I tell Ryan. “And I need to call his parents again. I told them I would once we got situated here.”
“Marty was right, though. Maybe take a few breaths first.”
I’m as annoyed as when Marty suggested it. “Their son’s in the hospital, and they’re probably freaking out because—” I bite my tongue. I can’t betray Lance’s confidence and reveal what I know about his brother. Yeah, his parents would be a mess even if Lance was their only child, but given their history with Kacey, I can only imagine how painful it must be knowing he’s injured and that it’ll take them a while to get to him.
“I can do it,” Marty offers.
“No, it should be me,” I insist. “I was there. They deserve more than a quick, panicky chat from me. Wish we’d gotten to meet under better circumstances, but here we are.”
I force myself to focus, get some good breaths in, and though it’s not helping much, it’s better than nothing. Then Ryan and Marty leave me, saying they’ll be in the waiting area.
I remind myself what Marty said, that I need to be cool when I talk to them. Not get them even more concerned than they already are. When I FaceTime them, his dad answers. They’re still on the road, his mom driving. While she veers over to the side of the road, I catch them up about everything that’s happened since our last conversation. I tell them the facts, but I don’t mention how difficult it was seeing him pass out and then straining to talk to the EMTs, how hard he was struggling with breathing before they intubated him.
But even trying to keep my cool and get through the events that transpired after we got out of Sigma Alpha, I choke up a few times. And I see the worry written all over their faces, poking at a fear that lingers in me too. That somehow something will happen, this will all head south fast, and Lance won’t be okay.
By the time I’ve finished, his mom has parked, and they’re both on the screen.
“We appreciate the call,” she says. “We don’t want to stay on much longer because we’re still about three hours out, but we’ll let you know when we’re close.”
“Okay.”
“It’s nice meeting you,” his dad says. “Even though this isn’t how we were hoping it would happen. But we’re glad you were there and got him out of that house. Thank you.”