Page 26 of April 5

He raised his head and looked over her head. She glanced over her shoulder and met her dad's gaze, begging him not to start a fight with Jagger. Tonight was not the night.

Her dad dipped his chin.

She grabbed Jagger's hand. For several minutes, people talked all around them. She followed Jagger back and forth as he paced, never letting go of his hand. Everything blurred around her. She couldn't put two thoughts together to make sense of what was happening or why they had to wait for a doctor's approval.

Mama Sue belonged to them. She wasn't some patient.

Jagger moved, leading her down the hallway. A nurse opened a door on the left and stepped out of their way.

"Take your time. There's no rush," said the nurse softly.

The smell of oranges nauseated her. On the few occasions she'd visited a hospital, they always used a citrusy scent to cover the smell of formaldehyde and sickness. Death. Her stomach rolled, and she groaned.

Jagger stopped, turning her around. "You don't have to stay."

She held on to his hand and shook her head. "I want to be with you."

He inhaled deeply as if the job ahead was too much for him to handle, and then he strode forward and walked around the edge of the white curtain to the foot of the bed. A white sheet had been draped over Mama Sue.

Katrina's heart raced. Blackness floated around the edges of her vision. She forced herself to breathe the citrusy air.

Jagger moved along the bed and stopped, putting his hand over the sheet covering Mama Sue. He fisted his hand and then slowly unfurled his fingers and laid his palm on her chest, over her heart.

His chin dropped to his chest, and he closed his eyes. She let go of his hand and put her arms around his waist, pressing against his body. Inside, she trembled. She could pretend that it wasn't Mama Sue under the sheet. It was some stranger. Some older person who had no family. Maybe a John Doe. Someone nobody would miss.

Not Mama Sue.

"I should've been here," he whispered.

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the guilt. She would've been here if she hadn't gone to Seaglass Cove. Mama Sue wouldn't have been alone.

"Forgive me, Mama." He leaned down and laid his cheek against her chest.

It wasn't Jagger's fault. Mama Sue was eighty years old and had heart problems. She made no secret about her life and always talked about the day she'd join Baller wherever old bikers go up in the sky. Then, she'd laugh at what a big party they'd have with bottles of whiskey, loud music, and all their friends who had gone before them.

"She was proud of you," she whispered. "She always talked about how you were walking in your father's footsteps."

He straightened, bringing her around to the front of him and wrapping his arms around her. His chest shuddered underneath her cheek, and he kissed the top of her head.

Eventually, he sniffed and inhaled deeper. "Are you okay?"

It took everything in her to hold it together. She wasn't okay. Life could never go back and be safe, like when Mama Sue was alive and taking care of her.

Instead of lying, she held him tighter.

He exhaled loudly. "I need to take care of her."

She nodded against him.

"You should go with your dad—"

"No." She lifted her head and looked him in the eyes. "I want to stay with you in the van."

"Katrina." He shook his head.

"Come to me." She looked behind her. "When you can, I'll be there."

He kissed her hard, taking what he needed from her. She gladly gave her support.

---