Page 19 of Keep You Close

With that, he said his goodbyes and made his way out.

I walked back out, finding a pill bottle on the coffee table. I figured that was what their Shane friend had dropped off. Maybe I should have balked at someone sharing their prescription medication. But if there was anyone who needed it, it was Atlas right then.

I collected Atlas’s empty plate and watched his brother’s car back out of the driveway.

“You’re really lucky to have him,” I told Atlas, “All of them,” I added, the longing in my heart so acute that it hurt. A physical pang behind my ribcage that I wanted to rub at to ease.

Atlas’s head tipped to the side, watching me, and I got the feeling he was seeing more than I wanted him to.

“I know,” he agreed, nodding.

“Do you?” I asked, knowing I was pushing it, but unable to help myself.

I was projecting and I knew it.

But if you had a family that loved you that much, why the hell would you spend ninety-nine percent of your time away from them?

“I do,” he said, but his voice was smaller.

I shook my head, trying to force the weird thoughts out of my mind.

“So, do you want to crash here tonight, or do you want me to help you to your room?”

“Honestly, the idea of moving again right now sets my teeth on edge,” he admitted, suddenly looking exhausted and pale.

“The couch works in a pinch. I’ve fallen asleep there more nights than I care to admit to,” I said, shrugging. “But you need a couple pillows. And maybe another blanket,” I told him, then scurried off to get him comfortable.

Pillows under his neck, more under his heavy cast.

I scooted the coffee table closer by his upper body so he could reach the acetaminophen, pain pills, water, and remote.

By the time I fed Samson and took him outside, Atlas was out cold.

Leaving me alone with my many thoughts until, eventually, I passed out too.

CHAPTER FIVE

Atlas

I wasn’t a good patient.

I’d been told that many times in my life.

My mom used to claim I would fake being well even when I was really sick because I was always in a hurry to get moving again, to explore the world that was our backyard or neighborhood.

Kingston and my other siblings practically had to tie me to my bed when I was injured and refused to just keep my ass still and heal.

The less I was capable of doing, the grumpier I got.

I’d been given a long-ass lecture from Kingston when AJ went into the kitchen to eat her dinner. About watching my tone, about being nice, about calling him or someone else in the family if I needed more help.

Without a doubt, he felt like crap about inconveniencing AJ. I did too. It wasn’t her fault I fell down a mountain and needed to come and disrupt her quiet little life.

Sure, she’d been a trooper about it. But a part of me thought it was simply because she was someone who never really put her foot down about things, who struggled with setting and keeping boundaries.

So, yeah, when I woke up and needed to get to the bathroom, I’d attempted to do that shit myself, since she was still out cold in her room. I’d sat and listened for ten minutes to make sure she wasn’t moving around before I reached for the chair, set the brake, pushed the coffee table out of the way, and tried to pull myself onto it.

Tried being the operative word here.

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