Chapter Seven
MAKAI WINCEDas he shifted in the hospital bed. This definitely hadn’t been the way he’d seen the day going. Idly he wondered if anyone had turned off the radio. If not, he hoped he’d remembered to get some new batteries for it. The thing was ancient, but he liked it. Replacing it with a new plug-in model seemed like cheating.
The sheriff had seemed… nicer. Makai vaguely remembered being under the rubble, protecting Joey’s small body with his own, and answering the man’s questions. He’d repeated them now, and Makai had had to tell him he felt fuzzy about the details. He remembered the yelp from Joey and then dashing forward with the thought of “oh fuck, the shed” in his head.
The nurse had told him it was the shock of it all. He was hooked up to an IV and had an oxygen thing under his nose. He had said a firm no to the mask: it reminded him too much of someone holding a hand over his mouth, not that it did the same thing at all.
The door opened, and a weary-looking Emil slunk in.
“Hey,” Makai said, just to say something.
Emil avoided his gaze but walked closer and closer to the bed, until he stood right next to it. Makai felt like just breathing could scare Emil away.
To his shock, Emil glanced at him through his lashes and swallowed hard, and then his eyes watered and he almost threw one hand on top of Makai’s and clutched it.
“I’m so sorry!” Emil’s tone sounded more like a pained hiss than actual speech, and the tears brimmed over, falling down his cheeks.
“What? No,” Makai managed to say, giving Emil’s long battered-looking fingers a gentle squeeze. He didn’t know what had happened to Emil, but he knew what once-broken fingers looked like, and someone had done a number on Emil’s. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Or well, it was mine for not knocking the thing down before, if we’re blaming someone.”
“No. I should’ve known to look after Joey better,” Emil insisted quietly.
“Hey, me too. I was there as well. I knew what was at the end of the path better than you.” He looked at Emil until he raised his gaze to meet Makai’s. “Can we try not to blame anyone, including ourselves?”
Emil gave him a small smile. Then it wobbled, and he averted his gaze again but at the same time clutched Makai’s fingers tighter.
“What’s going on, Emil?” Makai asked gently, hoping not to spook him.
“I… I haven’t held anyone’s hand in months. A virtual stranger’s… not in years. More than five years.”
“Okay.” Makai waited with a weird fluttery feeling in his stomach as Emil gathered his words to speak again.
“I don’t know… I mean I haven’t even asked if you’re… into….” Emil looked so uncomfortable.
Makai decided to help him out. “Yes.”
Emil’s gaze snapped to his like a magnet. “Yes?”
“Uh-huh. It’s just….” He trailed off, then decided that Emil deserved the truth for his bravery. “I always thought I was straight because I was with a girl when I went into prison. And there….” A tremor traveled through his own body.
“Oh….” Emil squeezed his fingers, and Makai flashed him what he hoped was more of a smile and less of a grimace.
“Yeah. So, I’ve never done anything consensual with a guy. And the nonconsensual things… there was a lot of that, in the first prison.” He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I haven’t really had much therapy, either. There’s bound to be triggers and shit I don’t even know.”
Emil nodded, and his hand twitched in Makai’s, but he didn’t pull away. Makai wasn’t sure if he was holding back from retreating or battling his own memories or both. “I get that. Something really bad happened to me when I was seventeen. I’ve been in therapy ever since, for five years. I think….” Emil gnawed on his lower lip for a moment, then looked just past Makai, not able to make eye contact, it seemed. “Would you want to like, talk about this shit? Just so we’re on the same page?”
Makai admired bravery, and this was Emil being brave as hell. “I want to get to know you better. So yeah, I think we could do that.”
Emil relaxed visibly, and slowly pulled his hand back from Makai’s. He thought Emil had gotten enough, or almost too much, human contact for one day.
To his surprise, Makai felt relief too. Things were suddenly so damnreal.
A knock sounded from the door, and the sheriff stepped in.
“Here,” he said and gave Emil some soda and protein bars. “Sit and eat, son.”
Emil took a seat by the bed, close enough for the sheriff to notice, it seemed. A thoughtful expression passed across his face, and then he took the other chair in the room and sat on the opposite side.
“So, I think we should get a little crew together and clear out the boat shed,” the sheriff said out of the blue.
