When Our Worlds Stand Still (Our Worlds #3)(78)

Violet turns the vents my way and cranks the air conditioning.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“I know this is hard, and I know you’re scared, but I need you to listen to me, okay?” Violet hammers her palm on the steering wheel and her hands shake.

My eyes focus on every building we pass, and the lights begin to blur.

“Rico called Amanda almost an hour ago. The guys were playing poker when Graham got a phone call. He ran out of the house like a bat out of hell. Rico saw how scared Graham was, so he followed him. When he turned the corner, Rico saw flames. Kids lined the road across the street from the house. Graham’s car was empty; the door was open; and the engine was still running, Kennedy. Before Rico could do anything to stop him, Graham was already in the building,” she whispers.

The crazy thing about words is they create change. The simple ones she links into sentences ruin me. They pump fear into my heart. A fear like I haven’t felt in a long time.

Tears fall down my face. Instead of wiping them away, I embrace their presence. The idea that they’ll sweep away my pain is ludicrous. Nonetheless, I let them fall until they drip onto my arm.

I don’t need to ask Violet what happened next. I would know if Graham no longer existed in this world. There’s always been the invisible tether between us. The familiar tug tells me everything’s going to be okay, even if it’s not right now.

*****

“We’re here,” Violet’s voice rouses me from my unexpected slumber. I must have cried myself to sleep.

As I sit straight up, the bright lights from the emergency room blare at me. They tell me to turn around to avoid the hurt waiting for me inside those walls.

I grab the door handle, and Violet’s hand on my arm stops me.

“I know we’ve been going through some things, and you don’t understand my reasoning for breaking things off with Dan, but I need you to know, whatever happens, I will always be here for you.”

I take a deep breath and turn to my best friend. “You’re right. I don’t understand, but that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to try.”

“You go be with him.” Her chin nods to the hospital. “I’ll be here.”

My eyes water at the thought of riding the elevator alone, unsure of what waits for me. “You’re not coming up?”

“Figured you might need some coffee. I know I do.”

“I’m going to go then,” I whisper, my hand holds tight to the knob, but I don’t pull.

“The two of you have been through a lot. This is a hurdle. Nothing but a hurdle.”

At Violet’s words, I open the door and jump from my seat. My flats hit the cement, leading me inside. The security guard at the front desk asks if I need any help. His kind smile makes the pain in my chest lessen for a split second. When I tell him Graham’s name, the ache comes back full force.

“Ma’am, you’ll need to ride the elevator to the fourth floor,” the security guard explains. I nod and give him an appreciative smile.

The lights on the top of the elevator count down from floor nine until the lower level lights up. The door dings open and out walks a couple, gushing over a newborn baby girl. Behind them cries a middle-aged woman. Her head rests on a man’s shoulder. The lost look on his face tells me he has no idea how to comfort her. I know she’s lost someone dear to her heart by the way she clutches at her chest. As if with the death, her heart lurches for an escape to be with the person she’s lost. I understand the feeling all too well, I think as the door closes behind me.

The light shines bright, stopping on the fourth floor. The doors slide apart, and I stand frozen in my own skin. Before my mind can tell me otherwise, I take a long stride out the safe confines of the metal box and turn to the nurses’ station for direction.

“Kennedy?” A voice calls out. I twist and turn until I find Betty walking down the hallway. “He’s down here.”

I race down to her. She wraps me in a hug, running her hand over my hair. She whispers encouragement and I pull away.

“He’s in there?” I glance at the room behind us. 207. A number forever seared into my memory.

“I’m going to go down to the cafeteria, if you need me. He’s sleeping.” She walks down the hall.

“Thank you,” I call out.

She turns back around. “For what, sweetie?”

“Looking after him.” As if it’s not obvious, I shrug.

A sincere smile forms on her lips. “That boy has a special talent of crawling into people’s hearts, huh?” She disappears around the corner without another word.

I push open the matte gray door. The low roar of the television fills the quiet space with noise. A young blonde on the Home Shopping Network attempts to sell what is possibly the ugliest sweater ever made.

His eyes are shut. His hair sticks up in every direction. He wears an unflattering hospital gown, and one arm is wrapped in some sort of bandage. An oxygen mask covers his mouth and nose, and there’s a hint of ash on his cheeks and forehead.

I scoot the chair closer to his bed and take his hand in mine. The rise and fall of his chest is the only thing reminding me I haven’t lost him. The rest of his body is completely still. My head slinks down until my cheek rests on our joined hands.

“I told Betty to hand me the clicker before she left, but she put it over there.” Graham’s voice, muffled by the mask, startles me. “Says it’s the least I deserve for scaring the shit out of her.”