“Make sure he gets some sleep. She’s going to need him, and he’s no good to anyone half dead on his feet like this.”
Asher’s hand hooks around my shoulder, and I let him guide me toward the door. I look back—one last time—into the whirr of machines, Madison’s stillness, and Claire’s quiet defeat.
“I’ll be back,” I whisper.
“He hasn’t said anything, has he?”
“He hasn’t eaten either.”
“Has someone made him drink any water?”
“He won’t take it.”
“At least you got him to shower, man.”
“He’ll come around.”
“I don’t know…”
“He has to. For her.”
Their voices are muffled, distant, like I’m underwater. I see them through the blur in my vision, all crowded aroundthe table, heads bent together, whispering about me, worrying about me when they shouldn’t be. Their worry is misplaced.
Why isn’t anyone talking abouther?
Why isn’t anyone scared like I am?
A pounding starts up inside my skull—slow, then sharp, then fast, then a heavy thumping. I stare at nothing, blinking only when my body forces me to. The world tilts a little with every thud of my heartbeat. It feels like I’m swaying, but I’m not moving at all.
A chair scrapes. I think.
Someone sighs. Someone calls my name. All of it happens around me, but I don’t care. I only see her, the fear in her wide eyes, her hands reaching for me.
“Uncle Hunt.”
The tiny voice breaks through the fog. I blink slowly, dragging my gaze down. Remi stands by my feet, his little brows pulled together, confusion and concern twisting his face.
“Remi, baby, come here. Uncle Hunter isn’t feeling too well.” Sarah’s voice drifts over.
The pounding in my head stutters. I blink, and the room sharpens. The noise becomes clearer. Remi’s hands land on my knee, and I suck in a sharp breath. The touch snaps something loose, and reality crashes over me in a harsh wave, my chest heaving under the weight of it. My shoulders slump. One second, Remi’s there, and the next, it’s my sister kneeling in his place. Her eyes are glassy, with dark circles beneath them, and her hands shake as she reaches for me. I cling to her without thinking, arms locking around her. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. Everything hits me at once.
“She’s going to wake up,” Halle says, steady and sure.
“You don’t know that,” I rasp.
“Yes, I do.”
“We all do, man,” Asher adds, kneeling beside us, his hand gripping my shoulder.
“You don’t understand.” My shoulders shake with a silent sob, breath catching sharp in my throat. “It’s my fault.”
“No, it’s not. It was a freak accident, man. It could’ve happened to any one of us going up there to jump,” Asher says.
I pull back, staring at them both. Their concern rolls off them, too understanding, and it only makes the guilt dig deeper.
“She was putting me in my place,” I whisper. “She kept stepping back. I didn’t see the trail shifting until it was too late.”
“It still isn’t your fault,” Halle fires back, her hands gripping my forearms. “So, here’s what’s going to happen: sheisgoing to wake up, and when she does, you are going to tell her you love her—because we all know you do,youknow you do. Then you’re going to bring her home here and help her through every second of recovery. Asher and Connor are going to handle things at the bar. The rest of us will step in when we’re needed. But Hunter… you need to get your head out of your ass. Stop drowning in this guilt and start thinking about how you’re going to show up for her.”
