“Sorry,” I mumbled. “Gotta do this.”
I was being as soft as I could, but I had to move the matted hair away, so as much as I tried, I couldn’t stop it from hurting. Still, after a long time, I finally got it cleaned out enough that I could see it.
The gash was long, but it wasn’t that deep. And I was pretty sure it wasn’t bleeding anymore. Okay. That was good. Did that mean he didn’t need stitches? God, I hoped I wasn’t screwing this all up.
“Knox, do you know if you got cream or something?” He blinked at me. “If you get a cut, does Riot put anything on it to help make it better?” Knox’s eyes widened. “Oh yeah! We got something!” He was smiling, probably glad to help as he ran back to the plastic bins. The bottom one was filled with thosemetal cookie tins, the kind old people used as sewing kits. I wondered what was in them. Knox pulled out a red one and handed it to me.
I opened it, smiling at the small first-aid kit. Of course Riot would have this stuff. I found a tube of off-brand antiseptic cream and quickly applied some to the cut. Riot’s eyes were closed now, but he whimpered a little.
“It’s okay, Ri. We’re almost done. It’ll be better soon.” I hoped I was telling the truth.
Once it was as good as it could get, I packed up the kit and put it back. Then I came and stood by the bed, staring down at Riot.
“Knox, do you know where Riot keeps the phone I gave him?”
“Yup. He told me. He showed me how to call you. But I’m only allowed to do it in really, really bad emergencies.” I messed up the kid’s hair.
“Awesome. If Riot starts getting sicker, I need you to use that phone and call me, alright? That would be a really bad emergency.”
Knox’s eyes widened even more and he chewed on his lip. “How would I know?”
I thought about how to explain it. “Um, if he starts throwing up and can’t stop. Or if you try to wake him and he won’t open his eyes. Or if he can’t speak anymore. Or if he starts bleeding again. Can you do that for me?”
“Y-yeah. Riot won’t get mad?”
“No, buddy, he won’t. You’ll be helping him.”
“Okay. I want to help.”
“I know you do.”
I should go. Aunt Leilani would probably be asking where I was soon. And I didn’t want Riot’s mom to come home and find me here. But it felt so wrong to leave. I knelt next to the mattress and brushed Riot’s hair out of his face.
“Ri,” I whispered. “I gotta leave.”
He didn’t open his eyes, but he shook his head. It must’ve hurt, though, because he flinched. “No, please don’t.”
Shit. “Ri, I gotta.”
“Please, Koa. Need you.”
Those were the magic words. They always would be.
“Yeah, okay. For a little bit.” I climbed onto the mattress. There was barely enough room for both of us, but we managed. I lay facing him, unsure what I should do. Then Riot reached out and took my hand.
It felt so good in mine and made my heart race. I’d thought about it before, holding Riot’s hand, but had been too scared to say anything. I didn’t think he even realized what he’d done, just held on. Soon, his body relaxed and Riot fell asleep for real. I didn’t move. Not for a long time.
Koa Age 16
I had the house to myself. Aunt Leilani and Uncle Matthew had left for a wedding and wouldn’t be back till late Sunday. Finally, I wouldn’t have them breathing down my neck and I could just relax.
I didn’t even have to worry about football. The regular season had been done for months, and even the indoor league I did in the winter and spring to keep in shape was over. I didn’t start training camp for another two weeks. I could breathe and hang out with Riot and the kids and forget everything else. Aunt Leilani had left me money to get food for the weekend. We’d order pizza and maybe wings and then eat all the snacks.
I flipped through the TV channels, waiting for Riot to show up. He was coming with Knox and Wynter, obviously, but still. He’d be here all weekend. I’d get to spend two whole days with Riot uninterrupted, where I didn’t have to worry about if he and the kids were safe or what was happening in their trailer.
If I thought my aunt and uncle wouldn’t flip their shit, I would ask if they could move in here. Riot refused to tell anyone. The one time we’d fought in the last three years was when I’d tried to get him to. It didn’t matter, I guessed. Everyone knew. They just looked the other way. And the couple times the kidshad been taken away from their mom, they’d always ended up back there. So all I could do was keep them safe.
The doorbell rang.
