Cemetery Boys(106)

They could help, but Julian couldn’t get his body to understand what his brain knew. Adrenaline coursed through him, rigid and ready to fight even though he knew he didn’t need to.

He refused to move away from Yadriel’s side, but he did shift back. As soon as he made room, Enrique and Lita leaned in.

Julian bit back the urge to knock their hands away as they touched Yadriel’s cheeks, his pulse, his forehead. He was unconscious and vulnerable. Julian had to keep him safe.

“Is he okay?” Enrique asked.

“Sí,” Lita said with a heavy sigh. “Just exhausted.”

Enrique looked over. “Paola?”

“She’ll be okay,” said the girl who looked way too much like Maritza not to be her sister. She looked pissed, holding a light green rosary to Maritza’s forehead. “So stupid,” she chided, even though Maritza clearly couldn’t hear her.

“Thank Santa Muerte,” Enrique said. “We need to get them out of here. The ambulances should be arriving soon.”

When he and Miguel moved to pick up Yadriel, panic cut through Julian. “Be careful!” he shouted.

Enrique tried to speak gently to him. “It’s okay—” But Julian wouldn’t hear it. Couldn’t hear it.

Miguel got down and jostled Yadriel as he got his arms under him. Yadriel’s head lolled to the side.

“YOU’LL HURT HIM!” Julian tried to rush forward, but a pair of sturdy hands held on to his shoulders. Everything in him screamed to fight. He tried to rein in his anger but fear tore through his veins. “You’ll hurt him!” His throat ached. The sound of his heartbeat pounded in his ears.

Miguel scooped Yadriel into his arms. His head fell back, lips parted and neck exposed.

Julian’s voice splintered. “Don’t hurt him!”

“He’s okay; he’ll be okay,” Enrique repeated, trying to calm Julian, but he was already turning to follow.

Miguel was across the cave and going up the stairs. There was more movement around him, and brujx went to help the others. Julian could only see Yadriel’s dangling legs. His swath of black hair.

Julian’s heart thrashed wildly in his chest, threatening to break his ribs. He didn’t want them to take Yadriel away from him. What if something happened and Julian never got to see him again?

He twisted out of the grip of whoever was holding him and rushed forward. “WAIT!”

Enrique turned with a jerk, posture tense as he gave Julian a startled look.

Julian took a step back. “I need to go with him!” he insisted, fingers knotting anxiously into the hem of his shirt. Miguel disappeared with Yadriel up the stairs. Something tugged urgently at his chest, demanding he follow.

Enrique looked him down, confused and apprehensive.

Julian was covered in blood, trembling as his chest heaved with ragged breaths. Tears streamed down his cheeks, blurring his vision.

With effort, he choked back his primal instinct to charge forward, to just push past Enrique and anyone else in his way until he got back to Yadriel. “Please let me go with him!” Julian begged, hating the desperation in his voice.

After a moment, Enrique’s expression softened. He gave a curt nod. “Okay—”

Julian tore off up the stairs after Yadriel.

They wouldn’t let him ride in the ambulance no matter how hard he argued. It was too small. Enrique was the one who accompanied his son. Julian was put in his own ambulance after a lot of negotiating. He only agreed when they said he would be going to the same ER as Yadriel.

The adrenaline started to wear off on the way to the hospital. Strapped to a gurney, his body felt heavy, every muscle sore. The paramedic cut open his shirt and dressed the stab wound on his chest first, with layers of gauze and tape. He snapped at her when she pressed too hard, sending a sharp ache cutting through him.

“How long were you down there?” she asked, face screwed up in confusion. “It looks partially healed.”

Julian ignored her. He wasn’t no snitch.

It took the paramedic three tries to get him hooked up to an IV because he kept pulling away. Julian was too distracted worrying about Yadriel to listen to her explanation, but the stuff in the IV was cold, and he could feel it race through his veins. The tube tickled his arm with every bump of the ambulance.

As soon as they got to the hospital, Julian demanded to see Yadriel, but they wheeled him into his own room to be examined. People stood around him, poking and prodding, speaking to one another but not giving him a straight answer when he asked where Yadriel was.

“Don’t worry about your friend,” a nurse said with a smile. Julian growled at him. The smile quickly vanished.

One of the machines he was hooked up started to beep wildly as Julian made to stand up. If they weren’t going to tell him, then he’d figure it out himself. Another icy sensation tingled through his arm and suddenly he was sunk into the bed again, conscious but impossibly groggy.

“Tranquilo,” another nurse said gently, softly brushing gloved fingers over his sweaty forehead. “You assholes,” he slurred. All he could do was lie there as they went to work.



* * *



Too much time had passed. He’d been lying in bed, staring blankly at the TV on the wall as it showed an onslaught of infomercials. He was ready to lose it. He couldn’t stand being cooped up in this room, trapped in bed with nothing to do but obsess over whether Yadriel was all right. His body felt stiff and heavy. His stomach twisted with worry. The wait was killing him.