“Will you try to call your friend, Asher?” I asked. “That is a good first step.”
Asher’s face contorted into a frown, and I wondered exactly how much damage that friend had done over the years.
“It’s just a call,” Frankie said gently. “Just a first step. And we’ll be here.”
Asher nodded slowly, then pulled his phone out. “I’ll text,” he mumbled, then hit a few buttons.
It only took a minute before Asher’s phone buzzed back. He frowned as his thumbs flew across the screen, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth. I could see the way his muscles tightened with anxiety, but he pushed through, just like he said he would.
“He’s alive,” Asher whispered, relief flooding his voice. “He’s at the hospital.”
I nodded, but didn’t feel quite the same relief, the confirmation only being more proof that Daryl was the son of my department chair. “Then let’s go to the hospital,” I said.
“What?” Asher asked quickly. “What if the cops are there?”
“Then I’ll help you talk to them,” I said.
Asher bit his words as he shook his head. “I don’t have anything to say to him.”
“Asher,” Frankie broke in. “You do. If you want to walk away from this, you shouldn’t leave this chapter of your life open.”
“You can face the truth now,” I said. “And we’ll be here to support you.”
Asher let out a long, slow sigh. “Okay,” he said. “I trust you.”
We finished up breakfast, and soon enough, Frankie took off for Northstar while I took Asher to the hospital. I didn’t say a lot on the way, mainly because he looked so lost in thought. He pulled out his phone every now and then to glance at it but mainly kept his eyes out the window, and his body slumped low in the seat.
One last hurdle, I thought.Then your new life can begin.
ASHER
I felt sick to my stomach as I stood in the doorway of the hospital room. Rory was sitting on a bench in the hallway outside, and I turned to catch his eye one last time.
I wanted to do what was right, and I knew that Rory had my best interests in mind. A need burned in me to make him and Franklin proud and to show them I was different than the person I had told them about—the criminal who raced cars in California, risking my neck like I didn’t care about my own damn life.
But now that things were real between us, now that they had welcomed me into their bed? Now I wanted to live.
“Asher?” Daryl croaked when he noticed me. He was the only one in the room, propped up in one of those blue hospital gowns while a game show played on the television. “Fuck, man, it’s about time.”
I stepped into the room and let the door swing shut behind me. “Yeah, sorry, I guess.”
Why the fuck am I apologizing to him? He’s the asshole who—
“I’m alive,” he said. “Wasn’t sure if you were, though.”
I looked down at myself. “Didn’t even break a bone.”
He pointed at his leg, wrapped up in a cast and elevated. “I broke a few.” He pointed at his mouth, showing me a missing tooth. “Nothing too major, though.” He winced as he said it, then let out a shallow breath. “The rib is the real bitch.”
I shook my head as I took at the seat across from him. It was hard to meet his eye contact, and I worried that if I did, I’d tell him what I really thought. After that night with Franklin and Rory, I was a raw nerve, and a part of me wished I could rebuild all the walls they knocked down, just for this one conversation.
“That was fucked up, man,” I said. “You said things were safe and chill, and then we end up getting chased?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he groaned. “You know, I didn’t like it either. Sorry about the tires, though.”
“The tires?”
He looked at me, then winced again. I noticed there was a soft green bruise around his eye and purple splotches on his arm.
