Page 62 of Avalanche
But then Seth had stepped up. Literally. Put himself between Matty and Antoine. Stared at Matty—at his friend—like he would tear him to shreds if he took a step closer.
I’d never realized what a big unit Seth was until then.
My foot is tapping a staccato rhythm against the floor now, a beat in time with the thundering of my own heart, in counter-beat to the clock ticking on the wall. I stare up at it, narrow my eyes at those hands that seem to have leapt around too soon.
It’s not morning anymore. Seth’s been out of surgery for two hours now. Two hours. Surely, he should wake up soon.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I ignore it, ignore the twinge of guilt I feel each time I don’t reply. But what else is there to say to them? And how can I stare at my screen when Seth needs me?
“Look...”
I heave out a sigh and lean forward in my seat. Close enough that I can smell the antiseptic Seth’s practically bathed in, alongside the lingering scent of stale blood. It’s a familiar smell that has something sharp and angry rising up in me, like some long-dormant serpent snaking its way from the darkness.
“You can’t just sleep your way through this,” I hiss at him. “That isn’t an option for you. This is the fighting time, the living time. Yes, everything probably hurts like a bitch. And you know what? It’s going to hurt. It’s going to hurt for a while. You’re going to want to sleep, because at least when you’re asleep you can’t feel the pain. And I’m not just talking about the pain of broken bones. I’m talking about the pain of not knowing whether you’ll ever walk again. Whether you’ll ride again. Whether you’ll only ever see the mountain from the fucking car park or in front of the TV.”
My fingers tighten around his until I can feel the pulse of him beneath my hand. The proof that he’s alive.
“But right now, you need to wake up. You can get all the drugs you want after, but you need to wake the fuck up, mate. Lily is out there scared out of her fucking mind about you. Your parents are on their way. Did I mention that? They’re probably getting on a plane as we speak. And here you are, lazy as, not even fucking trying to come back to us. Just lying there.”
I’m bending over him now, my face close enough to his that I can feel his raspy exhale against my skin. It should be reassuring, but for some reason it just pisses me off more. It’s like he’s there, just behind a wall, out of reach.
“You wouldn’t have laid down like this if you were fighting for Lily,” I whisper. “If this was her life you were fighting for instead of your own, you’d already be awake and walking by now. Not just walking, tearing down the fucking walls. Activating hulk mode. Well, imagine that’s what’s at stake, then. Imagine Tom is here, with his slimy fucking face and his shit-eating grin and the only thing between him and her is you waking the fuck up and-”
Seth’s eyes fly open, swollen and bloodshot and hazy, but burning with unmistakable rage. He draws in a sharp breath. The hand that’s been clasped in my own curls around my fingers, squeezing back with so much force I swear I can feel my bones crunching.
“Tom.” The word is a growl, almost unintelligible. “Tom.”
“That’s quite enough.”
There’s a clatter and footsteps, a door swinging shut, and then the nurse from earlier is there, settling a tray of food on a table and rushing to Seth’s side. She shoots me a look that has me nearly stumbling back to my chair, feeling like a scolded child, then turns to Seth with all the calming softness of a mother.
“You’re alright,” she tells him, her voice a gentle cadence. “You’ve just woken up from surgery. You’re at the hospital in Salt Lake City. It’s Monday, twelve thirty in the afternoon. And your brother Liam is here with you.”
Seth draws in a few rapid breaths, his broad chest rising and falling beneath the hospital gown, his eyes widening, darting around the room. When they settle on me, he lets out a shaky breath, his fingers trembling as he relaxes his grip on my hand but doesn’t release it.
“Liam,” he breathes. A bruised cheekbone twitches as he attempts to smile. “Is that really you?”
“Yeah, mate.” I clear my throat, face suddenly feeling hot.
“Your brother hasn’t left your side since you got here,” the nurse assures Seth. “He’s quite the stubborn one, isn’t he?”
Seth makes a raw, rasping sound that must be laughter, then winces.
“I’ll get the doctor in here,” the nurse continues. “She’ll want to ask you a few questions now that you’re awake.” The nurse shoots me a meaningful glance, then adds: “In the meantime, just rest, okay?”
My eyes drop to the brace around Seth’s neck, then to the hand clasped in mine. The door swings shut, leaving us alone. I give his hand a light squeeze. He squeezes back. Some of the pressure that’s been tightening around my ribs loosens, my breath coming easier, hope a fluttering thing rising up in my stomach.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, not daring to ask the question I really want an answer to. Can you move your legs? But what would I do if he said no?
“Like committing murder.”
I choke back a surprised laugh, then shake my head. “I forgot you’d still be coming off the drugs. Sorry.”
Seth lifts his free hand to give a dismissive wave, then lets it settle on his stomach. I watch each movement with hopeful excitement.
“I’m serious.” Those swollen eyes fix on me and I feel my smile falter. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
Ice runs up my limbs, settling against my bones. The tick, tick, ticking of the clock on the wall seems to falter, slow down. “Who do you mean?”
