Erik (Arizona Vengeance 2)

Blue goes still holding her sandals in her hand and turns to face me. I can’t quite pin the expression on her face, but I don’t like it. “They tried to call me last night.”

“Fuck,” I mutter as I realize that was the call I talked Blue into ignoring. “I’m sorry, Blue. Just…shit.”

She doesn’t say anything but sits down on the couch to put her sandals on.

“Which hospital is he at?” I ask her.

“St. Mary’s.”

We’re both dressed and out the door in less than two minutes, me driving the Vette and breaking speed barriers as Blue sits there quietly looking out the passenger window. I don’t know what to say to her and I’d reach out to take her hand, except she’s got them clasped tightly in her lap with her body angled slightly away from me.

I can read her body language loud and clear, so I keep silent and drive as fast as possible to the hospital.

When I’m there, I pull up to the inpatient tower where Billy had been admitted. Blue jumps out of the car without looking backward at me. I call after her, “I’ll park and be up.”

She slams the door and runs into the building.

I can’t find a spot in the main lot and have to park in an auxiliary deck to the side of the hospital. By the time I make it to Billy’s room, a good fifteen minutes has passed since I dropped Blue off at the door.

When I approach the room, I can hear Blue’s voice before I see her through the halfway open door. “I am so sorry, Billy. Please don’t be mad.”

I have never dreaded anything more in my life than pushing open that door to see this painful reunion between brother and sister. But I do it because Blue needs me.

She’s sitting on the edge of his bed and he looks pitiful. His left arm is in a cast from hand to mid-upper arm, set at a ninety-degree angle to his body. That tells me his elbow was probably involved. He’s got a white bandage taped to the left side of his head, just into the hairline and that tells me he cut his head in the fall as well. Which makes part of me glad Blue wasn’t there. Head wounds bleed like a motherfucker.

Billy’s got his face turned away from his sister, refusing to look at her. He stares stubbornly at the wall beside his bed. A nurse I hadn’t noticed before gives me a sympathetic look, and pushes past me to leave the room.

“Billy.” Blue says his name softly, and the pleading in her voice causes my chest to ache. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer the phone last night. I guess I never thought something dangerous like that could happen. But I swear to you, that will never happen again.”

Billy’s head rolls on the pillow and he brings accusing eyes to his sister. He lifts both of his arms, the one in the cast only but a few inches off his stomach where it had been resting. He curls his fingers into claws and then places the tips on his stomach, where he taps them repeatedly.

Blue watches the motion and then brings her eyes back to her brother. She reaches out, takes his good hand and says, “I know. I know you’re angry at me, and I deserve it. But please forgive me. I’ll never, ever let you down like that again.”

I move another step into the room and Blue’s head turns my way. She stares at me a moment, and then looks back to Billy, who stubbornly refuses to look at her. He rolls his head again on the pillow and takes to staring at the wall.

With a long sigh, Blue releases her brother’s hand and pushes up from the bed. She gives a jerk of her chin toward the door, indicating for us to step outside.

Blue follows me into the hallway and pulls the door to Billy’s room shut tight behind us. The nurse that was in the room stands about five feet away, typing on a laptop that sits on a standing desk with wheels.

Blue notices her and decides for more privacy, turning to walk down the hall toward the end where there’s a stairwell. She goes through the door and I follow her.

“Is he okay?” I ask as the door swings closed behind me.

She whirls on me, her face a mask of anger and guilt. Her voice is nearly hysterical when she says, “No, he’s not okay. He’s scared and in pain and incredibly hurt that I wasn’t there for him.”

I brace for more because she needs to get this out.

Instead, she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes a moment. When she releases it, she looks at me with less anger but no less guilt. “I wasn’t there for him because you asked me to be there for you. And I agreed. I put my brother—”