Page 84 of Busted Dreams

That sucked so bad.

“But she’s a minor, right?” There had to be a bright spot somewhere in this.

“Yes, she doesn’t turn eighteen for months.” He let go of me completely and dropped down in one of the waiting chairs. Then he saw Jonah. “Hey, glad you came too. The more people are here, the less chance I’ll attack the bitch who got my sister into this mess,” he growled.

“No problem.” Jonah gulped, his gaze rotating between the cop, the room, and Thatcher.

With his wide eyes and pale skin, I knew exactly what he was thinking. “You got out before this happened.”

“Just barely,” he returned.

“Why are you out here instead of with Trinity?” I asked, taking the other seat. Beck was probably Thatcher’s best friend in our group. They were friends before I met them, after all. He’d want to know what was happening. Sending a quick text, I turned back to Thatcher.

“One, she doesn’t want me in there. Two, I can’t stand to fucking look at her right now.” He dropped his head in his hands and rocked back and forth. “I think I never want children. This is too fucking stressful. I can’t even stop saying fuck.” He gently rocked forward.

I stifled a laugh. This wasn’t funny at all. “It’s a way of releasing stress. Say it all you want. Do you want me to check on Trinity?” I so did not want to. But she was probably scared to be in there by herself. And this was for Thatcher and not her. If I were a more violent person, I’d slap her with the Bible a few times. I had no use for it, but she could use a little Jesus in her life.

“No. Yes. Fuck, I don’t know.”

I exchanged looks with Jonah, and he nodded toward the door. “Okay, I’ll be a few minutes tops.”

With too much dread, I walked around Thatcher’s chair and pushed the already cracked door open wider.

“I heard you talking. These walls are ridiculously thin. Let me save you the time. I’m fine. I don’t need you, or Thatcher, or anyone else. Go away.” Trinity had a forming bruise under her right eye and rumpled hair. The ugly fire that was normally in her eyes was missing, instead leaving a lifeless imitation of the girl I’d met.

“I’m glad you weren’t seriously hurt.” I made a decision and pulled the only chair left in the room closer to the bed. Not too close, but enough.

“Yeah, right. You probably think this is all some cosmic payback for being a bitch.” She turned away, grinding her jaw back and forth as she stared at her reflection in the window.

“No, actually I don’t think that at all.” Because this was hurting Thatcher, and I didn’t want him to hurt.

“Then why are you here? You have your boyfriends waiting on you.” She curled her lip. Ah, there was a bit of the Trinity I knew.

“Why are you so hateful? I don’t understand.” I really didn’t. I mean, I could see why someone with a bad home life would want to be angry at the world, but it would only hurt themselves in the end.

“Like you could ever understand. This is who life made me. And I’m never going to escape it.” How was she Thatcher’s sister? He was so different. Optimistic, happy, determined. And then here was someone who had shared the same home, and she was ready to throw it all in because she was defeated already. Knowing Thatcher, he probably shielded her from the worst of it too.

“Don’t you have any dreams?” I was beginning to get exasperated with her. How could she be so thick? This should be a wake-up call to her if nothing else.

She laughed, but it was broken. Ugly. “Every dream I’ve ever had has been busted wide open by my dad.”

I paused, sucking in a breath at horrible possibilities her words elicited.

“He’s not here anymore.”

Trinity turned back to me, her face sallow. “Yeah, but he still haunts me.”

Chills raised the hair on the back of my neck. I had no idea what she meant. And in the hospital with the door open, I didn’t want to ask. She wouldn’t tell me anyway. I could see that much in the tilt of her chin and the slope of her drooping shoulders.

“I’ll be outside. If you need anything, just call for us.” I pushed the chair back into place, but stopped at the door. “And Trinity. After this, if you need to talk, I’ll listen. No judgment. For what it’s worth, you could live your dream if you wanted to. You have a devoted brother that would do anything to help you.”

I came out of the room as Thatcher lifted his head with tear-filled eyes.

“Are you okay?” I asked quietly, taking the seat beside him again.

He shook his head, his gaze trained at the floor.

Jonah had sat down on the floor right across from us. He gave me a ghost of a smile, then turned his attention to the nurses’ station. Beck walked in, patted Thatcher on the back, then took a seat next to Jonah. Thatcher must have texted him too for him to be this calm.

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