She ignored him and looked at Evan instead. It was Evan who’d spoken, he and Zach standing a few feet away with bottles of beer and twin expressions of astonishment.
Muttering a curse, Nate yanked his phone out of his pocket and switched on the torch, shining it in her eyes.
“Would you stop that?” she snapped. “You’re not a fucking doctor.”
“I know how to check for a concussion,” he gritted back, “and I’m checking whether you like it or not. So keep still.”
“Hate to interrupt,” Zach said slowly, “but, Nate, I have to ask. Did you just have your tongue down Hannah’s throat? Because it kind of looked like you did.”
Barely sparing his brother a glance, Nate said calmly, “Fuck off.”
How the hell was his voice so steady? How were his hands so sure as they ran through her hair? Because Hannah felt as if her body and her soul were shaking at different frequencies, like she could fall out of her own flesh at any moment. Her heart pounded so hard, she was worried it might actually come loose. That didn’t sound medically possible, but anxiety could be a real bitch sometimes.
“Hannah,” Evan murmured, “you should come over here.”
She wanted to ask why, but she already knew her voice would be humiliatingly shaky. In the end, it didn’t matter, because Nate carried the conversation for her. “Why? She’s fine here.”
“With you?” She’d never seen Evan angry before. It had never really occurred to her that he could be angry. He was so eternally cheerful, so self-assured and utterly implacable. But right now he seemed absolutely furious, his voice hard. “Forgive me if I don’t trust the guy who runs around grabbing his employees.”
Nate flinched as if the words were a blow. She wanted to take his hand. She wanted to say something. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t move. She felt cold sweat dripping down her spine, followed by the icy finger of self-doubt and a white-hot blade that felt a lot like pain.
And then, through it all, resignation. Cold, heavy, unavoidable.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” Nate said, “but this is not whatever the hell you’re thinking.”
“Well what the fuck is it?” Zach snapped. “Because it looks pretty fucking bad, Nate.”
“Hannah and I—”
For some reason, those were the words that unlocked Hannah’s stiff jaw and watered her dry throat. Those were the words that allowed her lungs to function again. Those were the words that inspired her to step in front of Nate and voice her deepest fear as if it were the truth.
“It’s nothing, Zach. This is nothing.” Her laugh sounded so real, so genuine—a touch of embarrassment, a dash of self-deprecation. “An experiment, I suppose. Nate was just humouring me. Honestly, I’d rather not explain.” She rolled her eyes at her own strange ways. “It’s complicated. But nothing to worry about.” Her gaze focused on Evan. “Really. I swear. It’s nothing.”
There was a heavy pause. And then Nate said, his voice hollow, “Right. Nothing.”
She whipped her head around to look at him. He was watching her with the very worst emotion on earth written all over his face.
Disappointment.
Hannah couldn’t bear the sight of it. It triggered a tight iron mesh in her mind, one that covered her thoughts like an unnavigable blanket. If she’d battled through the barrier, she’d have found reasonable notions like, This isn’t that big of a deal, or, You should stop and let yourself breathe through this panic, or even, Nate would never hurt you. Ever. And you know it. Those truths were all lurking, somewhere, in her head. But Hannah couldn’t see them, couldn’t hear them, couldn’t find them. So they might as well have not been there at all.
“I’m… I’m going to find Ruth now,” she managed. For some reason, those magic words made Zach and Evan step aside as she hurried back into the house. Which was lucky, because they obviously hadn’t believed anything else she’d just said.
She found Ruth in a dark and quiet corner of the living room, clearly having a grand old time staring into space and muttering to herself. Hannah was almost sorry to interrupt, but desperate times called for desperate measures—and her brain melting in the flames of burning panic before sliding out of her ears like goo definitely qualified as desperate times. She grabbed her sister’s hand, ignoring the curious stares around them, and tugged her towards the door.
Ruth blinked once, cocked her head, and followed without question.