Last Light(57)

I stroked her hair and cradled her head. Shallow puffs of breath told me she was alive, but the muscles of her face were lax. Her breath hitched as the car went over a bump.

“Slow down,” I spat.

“Fuck you,” Seth said.

He was driving Hannah’s car, the nearest vehicle at our disposal.

The tires squealed as he swung into the ER parking lot.

He leapt out of the car and opened my door.

“Give her to me,” he said, reaching toward us.

“No, I’m taking her in. Get out of my way.” I clutched Hannah’s body.

“You’re wasting time!”

“Go f*ck yourself.” I scooted along the seat with Hannah. “You’re going to tell everyone I’m alive anyway. I’m taking her in.”

Seth blocked the open door.

“I’m not saying jack shit about you being alive, Matt. I wish you were dead, all right? Why don’t you f*cking die for real and do me a favor? You think I’m going to tell Nate and Uncle and Aunt Ella you’re alive and break their f*cking hearts, you stupid shit? You’ve f*cked with this family enough. Be dead, if that’s what you f*cking want. Give her to me!”

I hugged Hannah’s warm body to my chest and nuzzled my nose into her hair.

Be dead, Seth said. Die for real.

An ambulance blew past us, wailing and flashing.

“Matt, for f*ck’s sake!” Seth crawled onto the backseat and clasped Hannah. I let her go.

Seth was going to keep my secret; I could see, even through his rage, that he was telling the truth. And it hurt that he wanted me gone for real, but I deserved it.

I snagged Seth’s wrist as he backed out with Hannah.

Her head lolled over his arm. Her legs dangled.

“What happened … between you two?” I said.

Seth wouldn’t look at me. After this, I knew he wouldn’t speak to me.

“Nothing,” he said. “She’s devoted to you, God knows why.”

He slammed the car door and carried Hannah into the ER.

*

I waited in the car all night. Seth had the keys, and anyway, I didn’t want to go back to the condo. I wanted to wait. I wanted to be there for Hannah.

I curled up on the backseat and shivered as the night cooled.

Around midnight, I broke down and called Mel. I told her where I was—not why—and gave her directions. “Bring blankets,” I said.

“Sure! Of course…”

A tense silence followed, and I was tempted to hang up. I didn’t.

Mel and I had to fix things. I needed her, and what happened earlier—Mel coming on to me—was girlish infatuation fueled by alcohol.

And it felt insignificant now, with Hannah in the ER …

I winced.

Hannah …

“We’re fine,” I said abruptly. “What happened in the car—don’t worry about it. We’re okay, Mel. I can forget about it. Can you?”

“Yes. God, yes, I can. I’ve been kicking myself. Are you angry at me?”

“No, I—” I channeled all my anger into beating my brother. “I’m not angry. I’m cold.”

Melanie showed up twenty minutes later with two fleece blankets from the dollar store.

“What are you doing here?” She sat next to me in the back of Hannah’s Civic. She looked like a child in her fuzzy pajama pants printed with stars.

“Waiting. Thanks.” I wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and draped the other over my lap. “Waiting for Hannah. She’s inside with my brother.”

“Oh … shit. Do I need to get lost?”

“Soon.” I frowned. “Not yet. Seems like they’re holding her overnight.”

We sat in silence, watching the ambulances come and go from St. Luke’s. Mel didn’t ask for specifics, thank God. I wouldn’t have told her. Either I hit Hannah or Seth hit Hannah, and maybe Hannah had a concussion. I scrubbed my face.

“Fuck,” I whispered.

Mel rubbed my back. I tensed, then relaxed. The gesture was nothing but amicable.

“You need anything else? Food, smokes?”

I shook my head.

After a while, I said, “Saint Luke. Why do they have to make saints out of everything?”

Melanie chuckled.

“He was a doctor,” I said. “Doctor Luke.” And then, “I’ll be buried in a Presbyterian cemetery. Did you know that? I’m tired enough to go there now.” I could say that to Mel because she was young, and she wouldn’t roll her eyes at me. She didn’t.

After Mel left, I dozed, but sirens and the cold kept pulling me awake. I drifted in and out of strange dreams. Dreams of Hannah. Dreams of quiet earth.

*

Hannah and Seth emerged from St. Luke’s as the sun rose.

Seth wheeled her out in a chair—my heart faltered—but as soon as they reached the sidewalk, Hannah stood and jogged toward the car.

I burst out of the car and ran to meet her. Seth hung back, watching us from the curb.

Hannah gestured for me to get back in the car, but there was no chance of that. If someone recognized me, f*ck it. Nothing could stop me from going to her.

As I got closer, I saw a deep purple shiner under her left eye and a bluish bruise along her cheekbone. “Ah, goddamn it,” I said. I wrapped my arms around her.