Yet a Stranger (The First Quarto #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,94

get back to the ER and make sure a riot doesn’t start. How’s your boy?”

“Not tonight, Cart.”

Cart shifted his weight, thumbs in his belt, and after a minute he said, “Well?”

“He’s all right. Mild concussion.” Then Theo related the night’s events. Some of the details, like the shooting, Auggie remembered clearly. Others, like the hill where he had fallen, were completely gone.

“What did he see?”

“I don’t know. I’ll ask him when he’s feeling better.”

“The gun,” Auggie said. He thought about pushing himself up from Theo’s shoulder, but he was too tired, and it felt too good to stay where he was. “I could see him on the balcony of that building. The light in the windows. He was carrying a big gun.”

“Great. A big gun. I’ll put that in the report.”

“Ease up,” Theo said. “I told you: not tonight.”

Auggie could feel the words vibrate in his chest.

In a flat voice, Cart said, “They think they found the car. It’s registered to one of those Ozark Volunteer, Klan-loving fuckbuckets in the county. Reported stolen a week ago, of course.”

“They found the car?” Auggie said.

Cart didn’t look at him; with his gaze still on Theo, he nodded. “The state boys are going to take a look. Techs will take it apart piece by piece if they have to.”

“That’s something,” Theo said.

“I need to go.” Cart shifted his weight. “Take good care of your boy.”

“I’m not his—”

“Sit right here,” Theo said, squeezing Auggie’s arm. Then, standing, he caught Cart’s shoulder and steered him to the end of the hall. As they went, Auggie heard Theo growl, “Are you a grown-ass man, Cart? Are you a fucking grownup?” Then they were too far away for Auggie to catch Cart’s response, but he didn’t miss how Cart jerked away from Theo’s touch. The two men talked furiously at the end of the hall. It looked like it might have gone on forever, but then a CNA came around the corner with a stretcher, and they stepped to opposite sides of the corridor to clear a path. When the stretcher was past, Theo said something and took a step. Cart held up a hand, shook his head, and left. Hands on his hips, Theo stood there, staring at the linoleum.

Auggie got out his phone. He was surprised to see it was barely ten o’clock. He snapped a selfie, scribbled frat life, rough life at the bottom of the picture, made sure to include a glimpse of the hospital surroundings in the background, and blasted it out. Then he messaged Orlando: need 2 talk.

The phone’s screen timed out.

Auggie called, and it went to Orlando’s voicemail. “Call me back. This is serious.”

“Let’s get you home,” Theo said. His touch was gentle as he took Auggie’s arm and helped him to his feet. “Either my couch, where I can keep an eye on you, or—”

“Ethan can stay with me. He’s in the next room.”

Theo nodded. “Or Dylan.”

“He’s not answering; I tried him earlier.”

Theo just nodded again.

“I mean, thanks,” Auggie said. “I just don’t want to make things worse for you with Cart.”

“It’s not your fault. I manage to make them plenty bad all by myself. Come on.”

They had to catch an Uber; the distance from the hospital to the Sigma Sigma house was walkable, but Theo refused even to consider it. Their driver was a young Asian girl who played a staticky AM jazz station. The car smelled like piña colada air freshener. When they got to the Sigma Sigma house, Auggie unbuckled himself.

“Do you want me to come up?” Theo asked. “To make sure you get settled?”

“I want you to come up,” Auggie said. The words were coming out of the headache, out of the feel of Theo’s shoulder under his cheek, out of the seed of fear underneath whatever meds they had given him. They came out of seeing Theo standing at the end of the hall, hands on his hips, staring at the linoleum. “Do you want to come up?” Auggie asked, and he meant the question a dozen different ways.

Theo, because he was Theo, heard all of them. He shook his head, just a tiny fraction of a shake. Then he pulled Auggie into a hug. His beard tickled the side of Auggie’s neck.

When they separated, Auggie managed to smile. “Thanks, Theo.”

Then he slid out of the car. The wall of cold made his head ache twice as bad; the sedan’s exhaust snaked around his ankles, warm and too sweet. Then the car pulled away,