The hospital intercom overhead came to life, squawking something undecipherable.
I didn’t stir. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, I was numb. Numb to the squeaking of nurses’ soft-soled shoes that passed outside the open doorway of the family consultation room. Numb to the dreaded hospital smells—both the antiseptic and what they wiped away. Numb to the updates from the doctor with the pitying eyes and the heavy weight of Sheriff James’s stare.
Even the torn, bleeding flesh of my fingers and knuckles no longer stung. I’d entered an alternate universe, a different reality that mercifully blunted the pain of this one. I could almost believe that my mother wasn’t several hundred feet away in a hospital bay.
Maybe the past three hours hadn’t happened . . .
It was an empty hope.
Just as well. It would be a shame if I had no recollection of the first and only time I’d gone apeshit and done exactly what I wanted to do.
I could claim I hadn’t known what I was doing—temporary insanity—but the truth was I’d relished every downward swing of that bat as it shattered mirrors, bent chrome, dented metal. I’d been euphoric as I braced myself and tipped over the row of motorcycles, using my legs to finish what the bat started.
The jarring impact of each blow singing through my arms had almost compensated for an entire year of feeling helpless as I watched my little family capsize into dark waters.
“They should be here soon,” Sheriff James repeated. He’d sat in the corner for the last hour or so, mostly silent. His face was expressionless, but his voice was warmer than I would’ve expected considering he’d had to fish me out of an enraged mob of Iron Wraith bikers.
I grunted. I didn’t have the energy to work up any other response. All-consuming rage and sorrow had wrung me out, left me empty.
As if on cue, there was a flurry of activity in the doorway.
Ezra and Ellie Leffersbee, faces full of worry, skidded to a stop. They were bizarrely dressed. Mrs. Leffersbee was as undone as I’d ever seen her outside her home. A dark scarf covered her usually perfect hairdo. Grooves from the fabric of a pillowcase imprinted across one cheek. The hem of a frilly nightgown peeked out from under her coat. Mr. Leffersbee wore mismatched sweats, socks, and sandals. It was not the attire anyone would expect for a bank owner and one of the richest men in the county.
Seeing them here, people who knew me and cared, brought huge relief. And shame.
Mrs. Leffersbee said my name in a sleep-roughened voice and started forward, but Sheriff James stood up, raised a hand.
“Ezra. Ellie. If I could have a minute with you first.”
Both Leffersbees shot one last glance in my direction before they followed Sheriff James out into the hallway. I lowered my head, unable to meet their gaze. The sight of my bloodied hands filled my vision again. Revulsion churned in my gut. A distant memory pulled at the back of my brain, then registered.
My father.
I hadn’t seen him in many years. Not since my mother had finally had enough of him and the tirades that usually accompanied the end of his workday at the mill. Since then, it had just been us, thank God. But I could remember my father in this very position, head bowed with regret, fists bruised. Telling us he’d finally lost his job after getting into a fight with another millworker. Again.
I spent my entire life fighting against any comparisons to that man and his temper, proving to myself that I would be a better man, was a better man, and had a better future in store.
And here I was with the same bowed head, mouth salty with the same regret. I’d have to atone for what I’d done, while my mother was at her most vulnerable.
I didn’t deserve the life I’d planned with Zora. I couldn’t be sure now that I was actually any different than my father before me. And there was no way, after what I’d done tonight, that I’d make it out of Green Valley unscathed. Never mind the plans we’d made together. Eighteen years old, and in one night, I’d ruined my future.
Our future.
How could I even begin to pick up the pieces for my mother, to take care of her? Would I even be able to?