coughed, cleared his throat, coughed again. “That yellow place?”
“Yeah. Ninety-nine percent sure. Unless there’s a cottage in back or something.” Nick’s warm fingers closed around his hand, trying to fold his pointer finger down. “Let go, Brian. We’re here. You did it. You can stop now.”
“I don’t see anyone.” He blinked hard at the darkness and the small yellow-sided house. There was a light in one window, but nothing moved. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. This is it.”
“Oh. Okay.” Moving his finger off the floating trace took an unusual amount of energy, as if it was sticking to his fingertip, but eventually Nick’s pressure tipped his hand closed and the green thread drifted off. The world got both darker and sharper. The car headlights reflected off a driveway marker a few feet ahead. The engine ticked and hummed, idling at the curb. Brian’s eyelids wanted to drift shut. He took a last glance at the little house. “You sh’d see ’er.” His lips were thick and unwieldy. “I’ll shtay ’ere.”
Nick’s voice was soft. “Whatever you said, don’t bother. I’ll find a motel. This’ll keep till you’re awake.”
She’s not my sister. You should go see her. The words didn’t make it past the thick, muffling tiredness that enveloped him, and the last thing he felt, as he fell asleep, was the sway and rising rumble of the car as Nick pulled away from the curb.
Chapter 10
Nick looked up from his laptop at a sound from Brian over on the bed. Watching Brian sleep hour after hour— please God, just sleeping— while he searched for local info on the crap-slow internet was making him crazy. Visions of that last bad Find in Minnesota kept taking over his brain, giving him flashes of Brian unconscious with a dozen wires and tubes stuck in him, in a coma, day after day, with the growing fear he’d never wake.
I was crazy to let him do this! No amount of reassurance about Ariana was worth risking Brian.
Nick’s eyes burned and a rough breath rasped his throat. He’d lain down beside Brian on the bed all night, and told himself he wasn’t lying next to a breathing corpse. He does this. It’s his normal. He’ll wake up fine. Except morning had come and he hadn’t woken. Not even when Nick waved a chocolate bar under his nose. Not even when he’d given in and shaken Brian, and yelled in his ear—
Nick forced himself to take a long drink from his water bottle and refocus on his screen. His searches hadn’t found so much as a mention of someone with Ariana’s name and age anywhere in Nebraska. Plugging in the address Brian had Found didn’t bring up a last name. A new approach, maybe… Instead, he clicked on one of the open tabs, where care for the comatose patient was outlined. He’d already turned Brian side to side twice, flinching when that strong body flopped like a limp sack of potatoes in his hands. Was it some twisted reassurance that Damon hadn’t shown up to shoot him in the head yet? If Brian doesn’t wake up, I’ll do it myself.
Across the room, Brian stirred under the covers, whimpered, gasped, then opened his eyes, his face almost as pale as the pillows. Finally! Jesus, yeah. Nick hurried over to sit on the edge of the bed. “Hey there.” He brushed Brian’s hair back with a shaking hand.
Brian licked his lips. “Hey. I’m not on the boat.”
Nick waved at the dingy walls and garage sale artwork, forcing his voice to sound calm. “Motel.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Brian blinked hard and turned his head, looking past Nick. “Um. Where?”
“A little place in Nebraska called Beatrice.”
“That’s a town?” Brian sounded coherent, normal. I didn’t break him for my own damned selfish needs.
“Apparently.”
“What day?”
“Twenty-third. Almost eleven a.m. You slept about sixteen hours.” Sixteen fucking hours.
“Um.” Brian raised a hand to pinch his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Headache?” Nick had set snacks and ibuprofen and a water bottle ready on the bedside table all those hours ago. He grabbed a pillow. “Here, let’s get you sat up a bit, and take some meds.”
“Thanks.” Brian levered himself on one elbow and let Nick stuff the pillow behind him before accepting the water.
With every sip, Brian looked a bit better, and Nick’s pulse slowed closer to normal. He gave Brian four pain pills, passed over a protein bar, gave him a hand toward the bathroom, waited while he peed and, from the sound of it, splashed some water on his