Page 109 of Sacrifice
“Cool it, Gentry,” one of them whispers in my ear.
“Fuck you,” I bite out, trying to get away.
Davidson is being led off the stage across from me peacefully. He glances over his shoulder and smiles.
“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” I say, shrugging the guys off me. They let go as Davidson disappears and guide me off the stage.
I hear Kyle tap the mic, settling down the chaos in the chairs below. “Well, if that doesn’t get your blood pumping for this fight, I don’t know what will.”
FORTY-FOUR
CREW
The nurse sidesteps one of the many boxes containing medical supplies that seems to have taken over my house. Boxes of gauze, tubing, antibacterial gel, medical tape, and God knows what else are stacked all over.
She stands next to me and adjusts the straps on her duffle bag hanging off her shoulder. She hands Julia a card. “I’ve taken some blood and her vitals. I’m guessing the doctor’s office will call you in the morning once they get the results.” She smiles sympathetically. “I’m surprised they let her come home yesterday if she was this bad.”
“She wasn’t. She seemed better yesterday,” Jules said, her voice defeated. “She was sick, but today she . . .”
“She had some color to her last night,” I say, pulling Jules into my side. “She ate a little bit. She’s just gone downhill all day. You could just see her getting weaker.”
There’s nothing that will bring you to your knees faster as a man than a sick little girl. You’re supposed to be the man of the family, the protector, the one to make everything okay. Nothing will make you feel more obsolete, worthless, and impotent than watching her look at you and know there’s not a damn thing you can do.
It’s heartbreaking. It’s maddening. It’s infuriating.
“This happens,” the nurse says, turning to me. “Just let her rest tonight. Try to get her to take a drink when she wakes up. If anything happens overnight, take her to the hospital or call us on the 24-hour line and one of us will come by. Actually . . .” She rummages around in her bag and removes a pen. She takes the card from Julia and writes on it before handing it back. “That’s my cell number. I just live a couple of miles from here and can swing by any time.”
“That’s sweet of you,” Julia says, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m a nurse. It’s what we do. I’ll be thinking of her all night.” She heads to the door and then pulls it open. “Have a good night.”
“You, too,” I say, closing it behind her. I take Julia’s hand and lead her to the couch. I sit and pull her down beside me, and she curls up, her head on my lap. I brush her hair away from her face.
“What are we gonna do?” she asks finally. She sounds exactly like she looks. Broken.
I fight the lump in my throat before I can speak. “We’re going to take this one day at a time.”
“What happens when the days run out?”
“Don’t talk like that.”
She stares off into space. I wonder what she’s thinking about, but I don’t ask. I let her have her thoughts. I just brush her hair and try to wrangle my own demons.
“I’m really scared,” she whispers. “I’m really, really scared.”
“I know.” I bend and kiss her on the head.
“Nothing will ever be ‘normal’ again, you know? I mean, even if she—”
“When she,” I correct.
She swallows. “When she gets well, things will never be the way they were before all of this.”
She twists in my lap and faces me. She’s so beautiful, more beautiful than the girl I loved before. I’d give anything to go back and do things differently, to know then what I know now. That people are more important than things. That sometimes the boring things are the best things. That nothing,nothing,is better than having someone to share your life with.
“If another person tells me to take care of myself,” she says, “I’m going to cut someone.”
“People worry about you.”
