I couldn’t believe it. She’d be heartbroken when she saw it.
The room suddenly felt like it was closing in on me. Without another word, I took a step away, walking out of the room.
My dad followed me. “Son, you’re going to want to be here when she wakes up.”
“I will be, but right now, she doesn’t need to see me like this.”
“You’re better than this.”
I glared at him. “Do not tell me what to be right now.” I shoved him off and rushed toward the stairwell of the hospital. I loosened the tie that suddenly felt like it was way too tight. I had to get it loose. I had to be able to breathe.
In and out.
I sucked air in.
Then slowly pushed air out.
In and out.
My gaze began to focus and the panic attack slowly subsided. In and out. That was all I focused on.
I tried not to do too much.
Slow, even breathing.
In and out.
In and out.
The repetition helped a lot. It helped me to focus. To keep a level head.
We were in the same hospital that Fred had been brought to. I hadn’t been able to visit him with my father ordering me to stay clear of him. Now that he was distracted, I remembered the details that would lead me to his floor.
I took the stairs two at a time, coming to the private trauma ward.
There were two nurses at the front desk.
“Hi, I’m here to see Fred Arson. I’m a friend,” I said.
She glanced down at my uniform’s logo and pointed down to the left. I thanked her as she went back to her phone call and walked the short distance down the corridor.
I saw Fred’s name on the door label and glanced in the small window off to the side. I couldn’t make out much.
After pushing the door open, I took a step into the room.
Machines were beeping. It had been a couple of weeks since Fred’s attack, but his face still looked a mess. Bandages covered most of it. His leg was in a cast, as were his hands. I saw each of his fingers were also bound up.
“Hey,” Fred said.
I had been so focused on seeing all his injuries I didn’t realize he was awake.
“Fuck, man, I’m so sorry.” I took a step forward. “I was going to come sooner but … you know how it is.” There was no excuse for not coming. He knew it. I knew it. I was a horrible friend.
Fred licked his lips.
“Water? Do you want some water?” I asked.
He nodded.
Stepping close, I grabbed the drink, placing the straw against his lips.
“I know The Society has a list of people they use to get shit done. Who is Coach Bilson to them? Is he some kind of spy? Does he work for you? What is it?” I asked.
“Coach Bilson doesn’t work for us. Mr. Connors is one of our own,” Justin said.
“Then why did Coach Bilson beat the crap out of Fred Arson?”
“That’s what we need you to find out. The Society is in trouble, Mateo. We didn’t order the hit on Fred, nor the death of Heather. We have each received death threats. Our days are numbered unless we figure out who it is, and fast. Sian is awake, and I think she has an idea who it is.”
To be Concluded…