I didn’t like being in other cars, not after what’d happened to Danny, but I guess Ryan sensed that because he whispered, “You’re okay. He’s a good driver. Nothing bad is gonna happen.” I was tense but having him near did help somewhat.
By the time we pulled up outside the hospital my body felt exhausted from being strained and stiff with the tension.
“I should’ve driven,” Ryan said to me. “It’s still raw, isn’t it?” He must’ve felt how unnerved I was.
“My brother, my best friend, was killed in a car accident. It’s always gonna be raw.”
Ryan gave a sad nod and squeezed my knee. I didn’t want to wallow in anyone’s pity. So I turned and opened the door, getting out and leaving Ryan’s hand to drop to the seat.
“Let’s get this over with. Get you checked in and sorted out. The less time we spend here the better. I’ve seen enough hospitals this year.” I strode over to the double doors with purpose and the boys followed me. When the staff saw Brandon, they ushered him through to a cubicle and we followed. Kian stayed in the waiting room. He agreed to fill out the paperwork as best he could.
An older nurse in her fifties came bustling into the cubicle and went straight to Brandon, pulling the towel off his wound and clucking her tongue as she did. She looked like the motherly type, all soft curves and sympathy, but when she spoke, she was anything but.
“Jesus wept, what have you done, you stupid boy? Been fighting?” She side-eyed Ryan then tutted back at Brandon.
“The other guy came off worse,” Brandon said, trying to give her a cheeky grin and twinkle his eyes. It just made him look like he was having problems focusing.
“I’ll look forward to patching him up later then. It’s not like I have anything better to do here, in a hospital, meant for sick people.”
Ryan muttered something about Brandon being sick in the head and she whipped her head around.
“If you’ve got something to say, pretty boy, spit it out. I’ve got no patience for time wasters. If all you’re gonna do is mumble in the corner, you can get out.”
I’d never seen Ryan be put in his place so abruptly.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he said and sank back into his chair, staring over at me. Did he expect me to dive into this little shit-show and back him up?
“And you?” She turned her attention to me now. “What’s a lovely girl like you doing with two reprobates like these on a Saturday night? Haven’t you got anything better to do with your life? If you were my daughter, I’d tan your backside and ground you for a month.”
“I thought nurses were supposed to be compassionate,” Brandon said before I could respond. “I think I want to take a reshuffle.”
“This isn’t Wheel of Fortune, Rocky. You don’t get to pick and choose who you see. If you want me to patch this up without leaving a shitty scar behind, you’d better show a bit more respect. They don’t call me the queen of stitches for nothing.”
“Cool title… If you live in a prison,” Brandon replied.
She laughed a full, loud belly laugh at him and then smirked. I could tell she was starting to warm to him. I think she liked Brandon’s banter.
“I think I’ll move us to a private room for the stitches. The big boys always scream the loudest. Can’t have you scaring the kids away.” She chuckled and led us out of the cubicle and down corridor.
“I won’t scream. I’m no pussy,” Brandon said, begrudgingly getting off his chair and following her.
“That remains to be seen, boy. In my book, pussies don’t fight and end up in hospital on a Saturday night, dragging their best friend and their girl along for the ride.”
“I’m not-”
“She’s not his girlfriend,” Ryan interrupted me. The nurse, Constance it said on her name tag, turned and gave both Ryan and me a pointed stare.
“Far be it from me to question whatever weird arrangement you youngsters have going on.”
I huffed. What the hell was Constance insinuating? I felt Ryan link his hand with mine. He didn’t like her jumping to conclusions either, if his hand holding was anything to go by. Brandon looked back at us and then down to our joined hands and huffed his own annoyance.
“What can we say, Constance? We’re into some weird, kinky shit.”
“Brandon!” I snapped. “Speak for yourself.” And I felt the blush rise up from my chest, over my neck and onto my face.
Constance laughed again. “I’m fifty-nine years old, boy. Nothing you say or do can shock me. I’ve seen it all.”
We made our way into the private room and Constance ushered Brandon into a seat. I dropped Ryan’s hand and stood to the side. I felt awkward and didn’t know what to do with myself. Maybe I should’ve stayed behind in the waiting area with Kian?