Page 47 of Running Feral

One ambulance is sitting by the ER loading bay, but that’s the only real movement. Everything else is as silent and still as the woods we drove through to get here.

It doesn’t help my nervousness. In fact, it makes it worse. Realistically, I know that if Eamon comes for me, it won’t make a difference if people are around or not. He’ll take what he wants. But Gunnar’s earlier offer to come back in the light of day is more and more tempting.

The process of getting inside all passes by in a blur. Tristan seems to know this place inside and out, which makes sense. I let myself numb out to everything, following along in his wake as he nods to nurses and turns down a gazillion different corridors. Gunnar is by my side the whole time.

He times his steps to match mine, like he’s pacing me so we can never be more than an inch apart. He doesn’t touch me, but he’s always close enough that I can feel the warmth coming from his body. I could stretch out my pinkie finger and touch his skin if I needed to. And he doesn’t watch me. He looks around us, his demeanor calm but his serious eyes everywhere, taking in every face and dark corner as if assessing for a threat.

It makes an emotion swell inside me. Something powerful and turbulent that I can’t possibly put a name to.

I catch his eye for just a second, and in that moment, I know he feels it too.

By the time we reach her room, I feel a little better. Tristan cracks open the door for me, but a thought crosses my mind.

“Are we even allowed to be here?” My voice is a stage whisper.

It’s not silent inside the hospital. Nurses and other staff are still walking up and down the halls, bustling to do their jobs, and there are some patients walking back and forth. But I had forgotten just how late it was until this moment.

Tristan shakes his head at me. “Not all hospitals have official visiting hours. This one I think it’s only labor and delivery. Maybe the ICU? Whatever. It’s fine. Just don’t cause a ruckus. I know how loud and outgoing you can be.”

Uncalled for. I don’t bother with a comeback, though, instead giving him the derisive look he deserves while I push past him into the room.

It’s dark inside. There’s a computer monitor glowing in one corner and a whiteboard with some notes on it reflecting the glare. I was worried I would find her surrounded by tubes and wires and beeping machines, but it’s not as bad as I expected. She has an IV, and the pump blinks softly in the darkness. There are a few wires surrounding her, some of which attach to a little gray box lying beside her in the bed.

It’s not that bad. It’s not that bad.It’s not that bad.

Gunnar and Tristan both follow me into the room but hang back as I approach her. For a minute, I think she’s unconscious. Her eyes flutter open though as soon as I get close.

“Apo,” she says, reaching for my hand.

Her expression is laden with more emotion than I ever want to see her burdened with. She’s happy to see me, but underneaththat I can see all the hurt and worry that I’m sure has gone hand in hand with my abrupt absence.

“Are you alright?” she asks.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m so sorry I had to leave. How do you feel?”

She lets out a long, weary sigh. “It’s okay. It’s just more of the same. I had my handsome medic there to save me again.” She smiles at Tristan where he leans against the far wall, and he grins back at her.

They’ve always had a weird kind of friendship. I don’t get it, but I’ll take it. She needs all the friends she can get to make up for her shitty, neglectful grandson.

Then she cocks her head to the side, and I realize she must have noticed Gunnar in the room.

“And who’s this?”

Gunnar moves forward until he’s standing close enough to the bed that she can get a good look at him. He looks so calm. I’m almost jealous. I’ve thrust him into a weird, uncomfortable situation and he’s just standing there, giving her a warm smile and introducing himself.

“My name is Gunnar, ma’am. I’m Tobias’s friend.”

There’s a beat of silence while she seems to evaluate that. I’m not sure what she’s thinking. Maybe she’s wondering if he’s one of the people she knows I probably work for but shouldn’t. I wish I could spill everything right now. I want to tell her how Gunnar is the closest thing to a real person in my life, outside of her, that I’ve ever had. I want to tell her how much she’d love him and how I’m desperate to make him a permanent part of my existence.

But now isn’t the time.

I’m about to ask her about her health when there’s a sharp knock on the door. Without waiting for an answer, a woman in scrubs lets herself in and takes in the sight of the three of us.

She’s older than most of the nurses I saw in the hallways, with the kind of tanned, weathered skin you get from decades of cigarette smoke and too much sunbathing in the eighties. Her blonde hair also looks damaged, and it’s pulled back into a severe bun. Everything about her gives the impression of sharp, harsh angles and it sets me on edge for no particular reason.

“Are you the grandson?”

She looks directly at me as she asks, but her tone implies that she couldn’t possibly care less. I nod, and then she tosses her head in the direction of the hallway.

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