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“I’m not a visitor. I’m a nurse.” I showed him my badge. “He came through my department the other night. I wanted—”
“Whatever.” He waved me inside, either sensing the lie or not caring enough to argue. I shuffled past him with an overly sweet thank-you.
Despite spending most of my adult life in a hospital, I wasn’t prepared for the sight that waited for me. I’d been too freaked out to absorb what had happened the other night. But now?
Tubes snaked from Channing’s arms and his chest, connecting him to IV bags and monitors. He was as pale as the sheets tucked around his body. But his chest rose and fell peacefully as he slept. He looked small again, like he had when he was a kid. That wasn’t what stopped me in my tracks, though. It was the handcuffs.
His eyes fluttered open, blinking in sleepy confusion as he spotted me. I smiled, and his confusion shifted to cold anger.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“I work here.”
He angled his head. “Do you?”
“Good news travels fast,” I muttered as I approached the bed. “I came to check in on you.”
“Why? Wanted to see if you could fuck up my life a little more?”
I flinched slightly, covering my reaction by reaching for his chart. I flipped through it, reassured to see that he was truly stable. “You’ll be released from here soon,” I told him as I hung it back up.
“To a waiting cell?” he asked bitterly.
This was going well. “Better than a coffin.” I glared down at him from the end of the bed. “What did you expect me to do?”
“You called the police!” A monitor beeped loudly as his heart rate shot up. “They won’t leave me the fuck alone. They have me on illegal possession of a firearm, thanks to you!”
“The other guy died!” I reminded him. “It could be worse. You’ll get probation.”
He shook his head. “They think I’m going to turn on the Gages.”
Fear opened a pit in my stomach. What would happen if he did tell them about Gage? Would the bargain I’d made for my soul be enough if trouble showed up on the Avalon’s doorstep? I doubted it would matter. Gage probably had plenty of people in the police force in his pocket, but he might resent cleaning up another mess for me. “I’m sure nothing will happen,” I lied smoothly, but I felt anything but certain. “Gage can buy his way out.”
“You don’t know him,” he said darkly.
I swallowed. If Channing knew what I’d done, he would lose it. That’s why it was better if he spent a little time incarcerated while I found the answer to ending the bargain. “I know how the world works. Or at least how New Orleans works. I wouldn’t worry about Lachlan.”
“Lachlan?” he repeated.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Why had I called Gage that? “That’s the asshole’s name, right?”
“Cate.” Channing scooted up a little, studying me carefully. “Where the fuck have you been?”
“Home.” Blood roared in my ears, my heart racing even as my face betrayed nothing. One of the few life skills being a foster kid taught me was how to lie. The trouble with that was Channing had the exact same skill set. It was a lot harder to lie to him. “I was suspended, remember? Where else would I be?”
“I tried to call.” Suspicion colored his voice. “You—”
“You aren’t the only one allowed to be angry,” I cut him off, crossing my arms. I couldn’t let him find out about the bargain, and there was one sure way to keep him from puzzling this out. “I called the police because you broke your word. If you won’t stay away from Gage, I will keep you away from him.”
He muttered something that sent my eyebrows shooting up. I waited for him to explode again, but he simply slumped into the bed. “Yeah, thanks for your help.”
I waited for a minute, torn between trying to reason with him and giving in to my own anger. In the end, I opted for the latter. “You’re welcome.”
Silence sat heavy between us. How had it come to this? My chest tightened. Channing was the one person I could count on to always have my back, and now we were keeping secrets from each other. But I didn’t know what he would do if I told him the truth. It was better to keep him away while I found a way out of this mess for the both of us.
Eventually, I said I was leaving, and he didn’t try to stop me. By the time I reached my car, my hands were shaking with the effort not to give in and cry. But crying wouldn’t help anyone, least of all me.
Climbing into my ancient Volvo, I turned the key, and the engine sputtered, followed by a thunk. I closed my eyes and tried again, opening them to discover smoke billowing from the hood.