Page 216 of Black Bird

Sadly, they ended up having to share the elevator with a couple of nurses, and a quiet old woman who never took her eyes off Athan. Sarah couldn’t tell if she was afraid of him, fascinated, or in need of another adult diaper. It was an effort not to laugh. The elevator finally dinged, and they chuckled, shaking their heads on the way out and heading down the hall to Wren’s room. The blinds were shut, but the door was cracked open, so Sarah assumed she was decent.

She was only half wrong.

Her hand froze on the door handle when she caught a glimpse of Wren through the crack in the door—straddling Brent’s lap in hiswheelchair. They both looked completely undone, tearing over each other’s mouths and breathing heavily. Sarah turned her head to look up at Athan, who pinched the bridge of his nose.

Umm … maybe we should give them a minute.

Athan snorted through his nose and shook his head.

Unless I’ve read her all wrong these past couple of months, I think she’s gonna need more than a minute. Stratford’s looked a little strung up for a while, too.

“Excuse me,” a nurse said from behind them. “I need to go over her discharge paperwork. Are you here to pick her up?”

Sarah turned her back to the door, covering the crack and blocking her way. “Y-yes … I can take it. She’s umm … changing.” Athan chuckled at her side.

“Oh.” The nurse smiled, looking at him. She flushed a shade of red, and promptly dropped her eyes.

Wise choice.

“If you wanna sign these, that’s fine. I’ll need your I.D. Then if you can just give her this packet and pick up her prescriptions on your way out. The pharmacy is—”

“Downstairs, I know. Thank you.” Sarah dug her license out of her wallet, and followed the nurse to the station, signing a few things and taking the stack of papers. When she returned, Athan stood watch at the door and nodded to let her know it was safe to come in. They knocked and inched the door open. Brent stayed put in his wheelchair, and Wren sat, flushed and disheveled, on the edge of her bed.

“Morning.” Athan smirked, eyeing her. Wren feigned innocence and reached for a styrofoam cup on her cart.

“Morning. You’re early … I didn’t think you’d be here for another hour.” She sipped from her straw and cleared her throat.

“I figured you’d be ready to get outta here. The room service is only tolerable for so long.” Sarah smiled, raising a brow. “Looks like they’ve been doing a shitty job though …bothlips look swollen now.”

“Arealshitty job … Stratford’s look a bit plump, too,” Athan added, looking in his direction. Brent sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and blushed.

Wren cleared her throat and shot Sarah a look. “I dunno what you’re talking about.” Her smile was anything but innocent. Sarah huffed a laugh.

“Are you ready? I’ve got your shit.”

“Yeah, I just—” She flashed that one good eye at Brent. “I just need to change real quick.” Brent clicked his tongue and there was a long, awkward silence between them all before he started to turn his chair.

“I’ll um … make myself scarce,” he choked, nodding at Wren and wheeling towards them at the door. Athan picked up a magazine and opened it, smiling at him.

“Before you go …” He grinned, offering it to Brent. “There’s a pretty good article in here … aboutcamping.” Brent turned a deepershade of red and took the magazine—placing it in a particularly convenient position in his lap.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake …” Wren whispered, palming her face. Sarah broke into laughs, and Brent smiled at Athan, who winked at him.

“Appreciate that.” Brent wheeled his chair slightly forward.

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” Athan’s chuckle was all Wren needed to plop forward into her pillow in humiliation. Sarah scooted around the back of Brent’s wheelchair and grabbed the handles.

“Let’s go for a little walk, Brent.”

So … they obviously got caught.This was awkward.Sarah wasn’t seeming to let him wheel himself, and Brent gave up hope that trying to would stop the conversation they were undoubtedly about to have from coming to fruition. He held the magazine steady in his lap and swallowed down his embarrassment as they passed nurses and visitors in the halls.

He cleared his throat. “Sarah, I—”

“You don’t have to do that, Brent.”

He wasn’t a hundred percent sure he understood whether or not she was upset about it. After two years together, one would think he’d be able to decipher that by now. What did that say about the relationship they’d had? “Are you pissed at me? I can understand if you are, I—it probably isn’t right, to be honest. She's your best friend, and …”

“And you took a bullet for her,” Sarah finished, slowing as they came to his room. She let him wheel himself inside, and he turned the chair to face her. Her arms were crossed, and she softly shut the door. “I know there’s been a lot of confusion on what’s right and wrong here, Brent. I’m not upset with you. I’m not upset with either of you, and honestly … as strange as it is to say … I’m glad it was you.”

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