“I’m sorry,” I say. “What do you mean?”
“Our mother had let the insurance lapse. We couldn’t afford Chrissy’s medicine. Cass was desperate to figure out how we were going to afford pills that cost hundreds of dollars. He went to the bar to drink. I’m not complaining, we all deal with stress differently, I’m just saying… this is what he does.”
I hate thatthatis what he was dealing with when we met. And I had no idea… but no wonder the money was so important to him. No wonder he couldn’t pass up the opportunity. His sister’s life depended on it—literally.
“Someone at the bar knew me?” I ask, both wanting to know but hoping this will keep her mind off what’s going on.
“I guess, yeah. Cass didn’t say much, only that the guy said he should go to this club and look for you. I don’t know.”
I have no idea who she could be talking about, but I want to find out.
I need to thank them.
Chapter Forty-Six
Cassius
I haven’t blinked in hours, I swear. All I can do is stare at Chrissy to make sure she’s still breathing and hope like hell she wakes up soon. Doctor Crouse is confident she will wake up, but waking up doesn’t mean we’re in the clear. There could be any form of brain damage. Something minor to something extreme. I’m well aware of how this can go. I obsessed over it when she was younger and had seizures more often, before we got her meds right. I’d researched the hell out of it while I was in school, to the point I’d get in trouble for not doing work. There were only certain days we could go on the computers, but every chance I got, I was looking up seizures and epilepsy. I never trusted my mother with Chrissy. I saw the way she took care of me and Cammy—if she couldn’t do that, there was no way she would take care of a child with this sort of disorder. And I was right.
How she had three sympathetic and caring children, I’ll never know, especially considering I’d bet my ass that our fathers are all pieces of shit too. Chrissy’s definitely is because he stood aroundlong enough to get to know us… then he took off and didn’t look back.
It’s always been nice having Cammy help me take care of Chrissy. It was easier than handling it myself. There is only a three year difference between Cammy and I, but I remember taking care of her when she was little. I also remember her hitting the age when she realized our mother was an asshole and that she needed to be independent as soon as possible or she’d never survive. It kicked in for her at four, a little younger than I was. But that’s because she had me to help her realize it. I had to figure it out on my own, so it took a little longer.
I don’t remember much before I started school, but I do remember that a lot of my realizations happened while I was in school and around other people. Kids would come into class in nice clothes and with colorful, healthy snacks. I didn’t know what fruit was until I saw it at school. I didn’t know there was food outside of stale cereal and canned goods.
By the time Cammy learned what was going on in life, I was already seven and a pro at dealing with our mother. I don’t remember a time when I tried to make her do what she was supposed to. There was never any begging on my part. All my memories are of me doing what I needed to live. I don’t remember a time when I loved her, either.
I’m convinced she ruined that when I was little. A toddler, probably, and wanted nothing to do with me, so I learned to go on without affection and love.
Maybe that’s why all of this was so easy with Harmon. I didn’t know what normal affection looked like, so why not have him boss me around and tell me to kneel for him? I wasn’t craving anything else because I didn’t know what it was. Yet it happened anyway. And pretty quickly.
If there was any part of me that was questioning love, it no longer is. I am certain of it now.
It felt right when I said it. And I loved hearing him say it. But after today… after all this thinking, I know that it’s real.
I don’t need to see what love looks like because it’s different for everyone. I know what I feel, and I love Harmon Stone.
It’s not because of what he did for us today—it’s everything. All of it together. Who he is as a person. How he makes me feel. All of it mashed together, to me, equals love.
And the fact he will not leave my sister’s side, despite it being late and him having work tomorrow… well, I guess that’s one of the reasonswhyI love him. He’s thoughtful, caring, and so supportive.
The constantbeep, beep, beepof the machines hooked up to Chrissy have been going steady for the last eight or so hours. She hasn’t moved, outside of breathing, and that too has been rhythmic. Steady and slow, like it normally is when she’s sleeping. So, when her breath stutters and she takes in a quicker, sharper breath, I jerk forward.
“Chrissy?”
The leather on the chairs crunch, as Cammy and Harmon turn their attention this way.
I get to my feet, moving to the side of her bed. Cammy is there, just as Chrissy lets out a soft whimper, frowning. Her eyes blink open, squinting as she adjusts to the light.
“I’ll get the nurse,” Harmon says, leaving the room quickly.
My chest aches and I’m holding my breath, waiting for… an answer. Waiting to know what our future will look like. Will Chrissy wake up fine, or will we have a huge change in our lives in the way we take care of our sister…
“Chrissy, how are you feeling?”
Her eyes flick to me. Good sign. But her frown deepens. She says nothing.
I run my hand over her head, her hair soft beneath my hand. “Are you in pain?” I ask, trying to keep my voice from cracking. “Can you say something, please?”