Elijah gives me a faint smile and nods. “Send Gabriel out, please,” he says, and I have to swallow my jealousy. We’re a family. There’s no space for jealousy.
I slip quietly into the room, taking Elijah’s coffee with me.
Gabriel’s head snaps up, tired gray eyes locking onto mine. I offer him the coffee and rest my hand on his shoulder. “Come on,” I say gently, giving his shoulder a squeeze and sliding my hand across the tight line of his trapezius. The muscles tense beneath my touch. “Elijah’s waiting for you.”
His hair brushes my knuckles as he turns back toward Noah. I follow his gaze. Noah sleeps soundly, soft puffs of air passing through parted lips, long lashes resting against pale cheeks. He looks… ethereal.
“I’ll watch over him,” I promise.
Gabriel rises from the chair and lifts Noah’s limp hand up to his lips, pressing it gently against his tear-streaked mouth. An IV pierces a pale-blue vein, and he runs his thumb softly along it.
“Thank you, Alex,” he says, voice rough, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite land.
I have a thousand questions. What the hell happened? What does he want? We’re not even that close. Not really. Did something happen that I missed? Did I do something? Didyou?I don’t understand, and the not knowing is making my chest tighten. I want to ask Gabriel, demand answers, shake the truth out of someone—but now isn’t the time. Not with Noah like this. So I just nod and give Gabriel a light pat on the back, pretending like I’m calm, even as my mind spins in circles.
Gabriel crosses to the door, where Elijah waits, holding it open. I cringe when he leans into Elijah’s neck, nuzzling close. Elijah meets my eyes—gentle, steady—then wraps Gabriel in his arms and quietly pulls the door shut behind them.
28
NOAH
I flinchat the sound of something dragging through my brain. Screeching. Piercing. It hurts. I try to open my eyes, but they won’t budge. Still closed. Useless.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
A hospital. I’m in a hospital. Now, if I could just open my damn eyes, I’d know who’s in here. But my eyelids feel like bricks—probably from the sedative. I vaguely remember the doctor saying it would help me calm down. I’d needed it. It worked. But now I need to wake up.
Wait. Who’s he talking to?
Putain.
Focus, Noah.Focus.
Ugh—that dragging sound again. Like metal scraping across my skull.
“Oooo…” I manage to push out a moan. Not the sound I was aiming for, but I’ll take it.
Something clicks. Scenes flicker behind my eyes like a busted movie reel—Alex, my bedroom, fingers gliding over my leg…over my tattoo. Rain. So much rain. My tears. I think he can see them.
God, I want him to touch me. Just so I know this is real. Ineedhim to.
And then… he does.
Everywhere.
Panic surges, tearing through my memory. My heart slams against my ribs. The monitor spikes—beeping faster, louder.
America. Gabriel. Alex.
America.
Gabriel.
Alex.
Oh god—my sister! I need to talk to my sister.
Damn it, Noah! Open your eyes!
