Page 22 of Make Me Bleed
“No, seriously. I don’t know what I would’ve done if…” I shake myself out of it. “Mo was in a really bad place, but being here has been so good for her, and that’s all I want. For her to continue that happiness and to heal and be whoever she wishes to be in this world.”
I blink down rapidly at the speckled tile floor, trying to clear the blur in front of my eyes, but it’s fruitless.
I startle when a hand wraps around my wrist, soft and cold and gentle. I glance up through damp lashes to find a warm, soft smile aimed at me. “She’s really lucky to have family like you.”
And that makes my heartshatter.“She should’ve had me for so much longer, but we lost each other for too long, and I… I didn’t know…”
“You can’t blame yourself, Abel. You were a kid, too.”
“I wasn’t though. I had a responsibility?—”
“To protect yourself, too. It’s okay. Don’t blame yourself. You’re both here now and that’s what matters, right?” Her blue eyes are soft and searching, and I can’t stand them on me any longer, so I nod and clear my throat.
“Right.”
“Good. We’re one big happy family now. And it’s about to get crazy with all this bingo up in here,” she remarks with a smirk aimed at me, which I return, trying to push past the weight in my chest as I help her rearrange the tables in rows wide enough to accommodate wheelchairs and the help of aids.
Once we’re all set up, Margaret and I look at each other with matching grins of exasperation.
“Here we go,” she says with a giggle that I can’t help but return.
During the driveto the hotel, I find myself staring out the slightly fogged over window. At the rush of traffic and the bare state of the world as it passes by in a blur.
For November, it’s blistering and frigid, and I curl tighter into myself as the driver pulls off the interstate and into the city.The drive is accompanied by the soft drawl of music that I can’t really make out, but that’s fine. My mind is whirring too much anyway for me to make out much of anything.
“We’re here,” the driver says after a while, and I startle from my reverie, noticing we’re in front of the hotel, and it’s fuckingbusy.
“What the hell is going on here?” I ask absentmindedly, and the driver snorts.
“Basketball game or something, I think.” And I stiffen from head to toe.
It better not fucking be…
I swallow the bile threatening to rush up my throat at that thought. How fuckingdisastrouswould that be?
“Goddamnit,” I mutter and hook my bag around my shoulder. “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
And with that, I exit the car and stare up at the massive building in front of me, watching people bustling in and out, and sure enough, a lot of them are clad in attire for the different teams—vast arrays of red and black and gold.
“Oh, this is not good…” I mutter to myself as I make my way inside and toward the front desk. The wait takes a while, but I don’t bother getting ahold of Harvey. He told me everything would be taken care of with a card waiting for me at the front desk.
“Hi, how can I help you?” the receptionist says with a bright but tired smile. I can see the weariness in his eyes, and I just hope it doesn’t make my life any harder than it needs to be.
“Hello, my name is Oliver, and Harvey Morgan told me there would be a card waiting for me?” I phrase it like a question, and his—I look down and notice his name, Calvin—eyes narrow at me marginally, and I just know there are going to be issues.
“Well, let me have a look here.”
“Sure thing.” I give him my brightest smile, already knowing all he sees is some fucking punk in front of him, so I pull out my phone and open the app to call Harvey.
“Hello, darling. Have you made it safely?”
“They’re giving me trouble at the front desk,” I say, eyeing the receptionist as I say it. His eyes widen slightly at my words.
“Give me just a moment.”
I hang up and wait. Three seconds later, the phone is ringing, and we both look at each other. I quirk a brow, lips curled inward. “Are you going to answer that?”
