Page 10 of When the Smoke Clears

It sounds too easy. “Doesn’t seem likely that they would’ve just left.”

He sets the cup on the table, and a familiar half-smirk plays on his lips. “It wasn’t quite that simple. They said they weren’t going, and they’d just sleep in the lobby. I told them you’d just worry. They’ll be back at eight.” His last sentence is pointed and he smiles, situating himself back in the chair at my side.

I tilt my head closer to him. “So how are you still here?” My stage whisper draws his lips up.

“I told the paramedics I’m family.”

“And now? No one’s asked?”

He lifts our intertwined fingers between us. “Does this look like a lie?” His lips are warm as he kisses my knuckles like he’s done several times before. The tender act sends those fiery little butterflies soaring through my veins. His eyes roam my face, and I’m reminded of the state of my appearance. “I’ll be right back.”

He lays my hand on the bed and disappears into the bathroom, returning with a wet rag. “You have…” Letting the sentence trail off, he dabs at my cheeks and neck gently before rubbing a thumb along my bottom lip. “I don’t care what you look like. Just removing anything he may have left behind.”

It doesn’t come across judgmental, but instead, thoughtful. Lying in Nana’s grass with Colt’s knife lodged in my body was the most violating thing I’ve ever experienced. Sutton’s right that I want nothing left of him, however long the trauma of the event may last.

There’s hardly any rest to be had in this place. How anyone is supposed to recover in Recovery is beyond me. People come in throughout the night to administer pain meds, check my vital signs multiple times, and draw more blood. They seem to think that because I still have an IV in my arm, there’s no disturbance. They’re wrong.

Sutton never leaves my side, despite the battered chair he occupies—which I’m certain isn’t comfortable. At some point, he lays his hat upside down on the tiny rolling table in the room.

Sometime after seven I get a new nurse, and from that point on I’m wide awake. I’m not sure how leaving against medical advice works, but if someone doesn’t produce discharge paperwork soon, I’ll be finding out.

A breakfast tray arrives just before eight. I open the plastic dome on the plate, but that’s as far as I get. Cold eggs and sausage links, and stale toast greet me. Breakfast of champions.

The next time the door opens, Izzy and Leah walk through.

It’s an effort not to move. I want to wrap them both in my arms. Nick enters behind them.

Izzy’s eyes glisten. “Oh my God, Maci. Are you ok?”

My friends rush at me from either side of the bed, wrapping their arms around my neck. I’m thankful to be in a somewhat seated position so I can wrap an arm around each of them, as well. My side tugs painfully, but it’s muted.

When they release me, I pat my stitched side. “Better than new.”

Sutton’s face drops. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

I bite my lip through a smile. “I wasn’t asking you.”

“Seems normal to me,” Leah says, grinning at Izzy.

“How long are you going to be here?” Izzy squeezes her tiny rear onto the bed with me. Leah replicates the motion, stretching her legs fully so they tuck under the chair Sutton was using.

“Actually, I’m being discharged soon,” I say happily.

“Already?” Leah’s voice is skeptical.

“Yep. Told you, better than new.” My friends exchange a look over me.

Sutton interjects. “Our vehicles are at Ruthie’s. Think you guys can lend some help getting them?”

“Already took care of ’em.” Nick is posted near the bathroom, looking more like a warden than I’ve seen. Someone needs to tell these two men that the threat has been neutralized.

“Really?” Sutton readjusts his hat.

“Yep. We did some shuffling last night before we went our separate ways.” Nick eyes Izzy and Leah in turn.

The nurse speaks from the doorway. “Discharge paperwork. Why don’t you get dressed and we can go over everything?” She shakes a set of papers in the air.

Izzy holds up a small bag. “I got you.”

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