Page 77 of Nothing To Lose
They said Guy is in the hospital in a medically induced coma because of brain swelling. It’s not looking good.
They’re moving Isaac to the city jail until his preliminary hearing. It could be weeks. Or months. I don’t know. I don’t know anything except that I miss him so badly I feel hollow. Too hollow to get out of bed. Even though some idiot has been banging on the door for what feels like an hour. I think they've finally given up, but then there's a scraping sound, and rattling, then the door crashes open.
Fucking Chelsey and Brenna. Isaac was right about those two. We should not have let them meet, much less live together for any amount of time. Chelsey and Genie are staying in Mac and Anders' guest room.
"Get your fine ass out of this bed and take a shower. You can even wear your nerd pajamas, as long as they're clean ones."
"I'm not going to fucking Sunday brunch. I'm not in the mood and I don't see how any of you can be either. He's rotting away in a jail cell and not here with me where he's supposed to be."
I'm hyperventilating. Chelsey and Brenna give each other a look, then they each take an arm and hoist me up. We get as far as the bathroom, and I proceed to lose the contents of my stomach, which is nothing but bile. Brenna supports me over the toilet while Chelsey starts the shower. They strip me down to my underwear and hoist me over the edge of the tub.
Once I'm standing under the spray of lukewarm water, my mind starts to clear. I let the tears fall and the water washes them away.
"Do you need me to wash you? I am a nurse. It's basically what I do for a living," Chelsey says, holding up a washcloth with soap already on it. I absolutely do notwant her to do that, so I take the cloth from her and pull the shower curtain closed while the terror twins gossip. I swear I hear one of them whisper, "Did you see what I saw?" but I ignore them and try not to think about the last time someone had to take care of me.
Once I'm out and dry, I eye the bed. One of those bitches stripped the sheets. And yeah, I realize I've been laying in them, unwashed, for almost two full days. But it still smelled like him.
I think I'm going to be sick again.
Brenna hands me a hoodie she pulled out of the closet. One of his. I start crying again.
"Why does it feel like he's died? Like he'll never come back?"
Brenna rubs my back while Chelsey goes to the kitchen and fills a glass of water. I drink it in three large gulps, not realizing how thirsty I was. It's too much for my stomach, though, so I don't drink more.
Someone's phone chimes.
"That's my dad," Brenna says. "Everyone's there."
"Come on, Clint. Let's get moving."
"Clint?" Brenna asks.
"Don't ask," I grumble, hating the happy memory. "I'm still not going to fucking brunch."
“This isn’t about brunch. It’s about everyone who gives a damn about Isaac coming together to figure out how to help him. So put on some pants. Can't have you scaring people with that thing.”
Chelsey snorts.
* * *
When we walkintoThe Nook, it’s like stepping into another world.
Genie’s there. So is Mac. Anders. Reggie from the hardware store. A guy named Steve, who I’m told is a local plumber. Jimmy, who I’ve seen at fight nights, nods at me solemnly. A dozen more people I don’t recognize are clustered around tables, drinking coffee and murmuring quietly.
They all know Isaac.
They all care.
Someone claps a hand on my shoulder. “Tyler, right?”
I turn to find a man maybe in his mid-fifties. Short, stocky, with a kind face but sharp eyes. “Hi, Tyler, I’m Leslie Preston. I’m a friend of Mac and Anders. Well, technically, I’m a friend of a friend, but that doesn’t matter.”
He offers his hand. I shake it numbly.
“I’d like to represent Isaac,” he continues. “It would be pro bono, of course. I need to be honest that I don’t normally take criminal cases. I mostly work with LGBTQ+ clients facing discrimination, but when Anders told me what happened, I couldn’t not get involved.”
It takes me a second to process. “You’re…wait, really?”
