“By sucking the venom out of her bite,” Reese added, waiting for me to interrupt her again or for something to click, but neither reaction came from me. “We don’t know what happened exactly, but he must have had a cut in his mouth that the venom got into. By the time the first ambulance had Paige loaded up, the second was on its way for Will.”
That woozy feeling I’d just had minutes ago? Yeah, it had nothing on what hit me then. Without the Mountain Dew and the chair, I would have been on the hospital floor. I didn’t know I was going to ask the next question until it slipped out. Like so much of my relationship with Will, it came out of instinct. “Is he all right? Is he . . . alive?” I set my jaw and attempted to force some bravery from my failing reserves.
“Liv, yeah, he’s fine.” This time, Reese’s arm wound around me and pulled me close. “They’re both okay. A little uncomfortable, but that’s something the doctors and the meds in their I.V.s can fix. However, they might wake up with a personal vendetta to exterminate every rattlesnake they come in contact with in the future.”
I laughed hollowly. Being comforted by Reese was such a strange thing, for her to use her words and her embrace in the same way I’d used them to comfort her. “I thought I was supposed to be the one comforting you.”
Reese shrugged. “Yeah, well, you look like you need it way more than I do, so I’m spreading the love.”
When I leaned back, I molded my hand around her cheek. “You’re good at it. You’re a natural born spreader of love, you know that?”
Reese’s cheeks went pink, and she looked almost as uncomfortable as if I were scolding her. She couldn’t take a compliment, and she was the epitome of the kind of person who deserved compliments. Reese needed work. Paige needed work. I needed so much work it boggled my mind. The Bennett sisters were a case study of a work in progress, but I wasn’t giving up on either of them until we’d made a lot of it.
I patted her cheek. “I’m going to go check on Paige. You want to come with me?”
Reese shook her head and lifted a clipboard loaded with papers. “I’m going to finish her paperwork up first.”
Of course. Hospital stays meant paperwork. Lots of it. Lots of money too. “I can fill that out.” I reached for the clipboard, but she swung it out of my reach.
“No, I’ve got it. Call me crazy, but filling out box after box on these things has managed to . . . calm me. Plus, I’m the one with the insurance cards.” She patted her purse and winked at me.
I sighed. The insurance cards from the state. After the big hullabaloo when Paige was sick and in need of medical attention—last month—we’d been sure Kitty had taken off with the cards in her purse. As it turned out, after mucking about the trailer, I found them in the old coffee can she kept her meth supplies in. Because where better to keep your daughters’ insurance cards than with a container of dirty syringes? Thank God Reese had had the sense to grab Paige’s, because I hadn’t even considered it before she brought it up. As far as older sisters went, I sucked. As far as guardians went, I was in the top-seated spot for worst one ever.
“I’ve mentioned I don’t know what I’d do without you, right?” I said.
She smiled then went back to work on the paperwork. “A time or two.”
I kissed her head one more time before ruffling her hair and heading out of the waiting room. “Love you, Reese.”
“Love you back, Liv.”
That made me grin. Then I started down the hall toward room 252, and my smile faded. Other than the very basic story of what had happened, I didn’t know any of the details surrounding Paige’s accident. I didn’t know where she’d been bitten, how severely she’d reacted, or what would be the lifelong effects, if any. I didn’t know what I’d be walking into, and for someone like me, who preferred to be informed of bad news rather than informed of nothing, what waited for me in room 252 made me a nervous wreck.
My palms were sweating by the time I pressed the lever to open Paige’s room. A curtain was drawn to divide the room, but there wasn’t another patient sharing the room with her. The doctor and nurse were gone, the television wasn’t turned on, and the room was eerily silent. Silent and Paige Bennett lived on opposite sides of the universe. I moved slowly toward her bed beside the window, holding my breath. Reese had reassured me that Paige was fine, that she would be fine, but something about the heaviness of a hospital made it seem like no one would be fine again.
When Paige came into view, I exhaled. Save for the hospital gown and the various tubes and monitors around her, she could have been asleep in her own bed. Her color was good, her expression relatively peaceful, and no body parts appeared to be severely maimed or missing. Always a good sign. I took her hand and felt the second tear of the night ski down my face. Her hand was warm—not too warm, just right. She was fine. She really was. Relief flooded me. I slid a few chunks of red hair behind her ear, and she shifted.
Her eyes didn’t open, but she smiled. “That stuff they put in my IV is good stuff.” Her voice matched her expression—loopy.
I squeezed her hand. “Paige, it’s me, Liv. How are you, sweetie? Do you need anything?”
From her close-to-euphoric expression, she didn’t need anything more than what she already had. She smiled, shook her head, and squeezed my hand back. “I hate those damn snakes,” she said in a rummy voice. “But I love you.”
That made me laugh-sob. You know that thing where you can’t decide whether to laugh or cry so it winds up sounding like you’re choking on gulps of air while a broken laugh emits in clipped notes? That was me—choking on my own emotions. “I love you, too. No buts.”
Paige’s smile went up a few levels. “No nuts, no butts, no coconuts.”
Given our family history of addiction, I normally wouldn’t have been on board with one of my sister’s being doped up on lord only knew what, but whatever was cruising through her veins made her pain-free, happy, and admit she loved me while I was in earshot. That was enough to make me turn the blind eye. Hospital doping after a nearly lethal snake bite I could justify. Doping anyplace else . . . not so much.
“I’ll let you rest. If you need anything, I’ll be in the waiting room, okay?” I tucked the covers around her more tightly then headed for the door. “We’ll talk about you smoking tomorrow.”
Paige groaned. So she wasn’t that doped up. Not hanging out over the rainbow where the bluebirds fly. “Reese. Traitor. Besides, I don’t really smoke. I don’t even inhale.”
My back was turned to her, so I let myself smile. “If that didn’t work for the President of the United States, I don’t think that excuse will work for you either.”
“Liv? Would you find Will and thank him for me?” Paige asked as I was slipping out the door. “I’m pretty sure he saved my life.”
I didn’t know if Paige knew yet that Will had been admitted to the hospital thanks to the same venom that had put her in there, but now wasn’t the time to tell her. She was right—Will probably had saved her life, and the least he deserved was a thank you. As Paige was in no shape for it, I would do it. Sure, I wanted to keep as much distance between Will and Liv as possible, but given the present circumstances, I couldn’t keep distance between us. I had to thank him. I had to express my gratitude for what he’d done—both for Paige and for myself.
But first, I had to find him.
“I’ll tell him, Paige, don’t worry.” I glanced back, and she looked like she was back asleep. “Sweet dreams.”
I closed her door noiselessly then headed for the nurses’ station. I didn’t know what floor or room Will was in, but as I was resolved to find him, I wouldn’t let that stop me. The nurse manning the desk didn’t look up as I approached. She didn’t look up when I stopped and folded my arms on the counter. She didn’t look up when I cleared my throat. Apparently that file and the paperwork within in it were positively scintillating.
Fine. Screw the pleasantries. “What room is Will Goods in?”
Not looking up, the nurse lif
ted her arm and pointed behind me. “That one.”
I spun around, and sure enough, there was a file propped in a plastic box outside the door that read, Goods, W.
Why did it always seem that whenever I went looking for him, Will was always right in front of me? I didn’t need to know the answer to guess it was one that would unnerve me when and if discovered. I might have waved or issued a Thank you if I thought the nurse would notice. Or care. So instead, I approached the barely ajar door. Why was Will Goods always waiting for me behind some closed door?
Before my mind could get into a battle of should-I-or-shouldn’t-I? I pushed open the door, slipped inside, and closed it. Like Paige’s, the room was silent and empty. And dark.
“Liv?” Will’s voice cut through the darkness, not sounding half as loopy as Paige’s.
I wasn’t sure how he knew it was me. His curtain was drawn like Paige’s, and I could barely make out my hand in front of my face, but maybe Reese had tipped him off that I was there. Or maybe he knew I’d be there soon. Or maybe, just maybe, he also recognized the energy that came to life when we were close. Whatever it was, I wasn’t there to find out the answer. I was there for something else.
“It’s Nurse Liv to you,” I said, moving carefully through the room. Despite my best efforts, I managed to ram into a cart. I yelped more from surprise than from the pain. “Are you a bat or something? It seems like every time I see you it’s pitch black.” I realized my slip an instant too late. The Body Shop, the V.I.P. Room, what had happened within it—including the darkness—was off limits. This was one life, and that was another. Liv and Noelle didn’t mix . . . at least not when I could manage to keep them separate.
“You can turn on the lights. I’m good either way.”
After navigating around another cart and a chair, I made it to the foot of Will’s bed. “It’s okay. My eyes are adjusting. I like the dark better than those awful overhead lights anyway.”
I couldn’t quite make out his face, but he’d sounded relaxed. It seemed like whatever awkwardness we could feel about what had happened last Friday, he was immune to it. Even with my best efforts to keep my two lives apart, I felt . . . something . . . when my mind drifted to that night. Thanks to the images replaying in my head, it wasn’t awkwardness I felt either. If he were telepathic and knew what I was really feeling and fantasizing about though, I supposed severe awkwardness would have ensued.
“How’s Paige? It was kind of a whirlwind when I got here. Is she going to be all right?” he asked.
My hands curled around the foot of the bed. “Yeah, she’s going to be all right. She’s going to be more than all right.” Last week, I’d felt overwhelming desire for him. Tonight, I felt overwhelming gratitude. Where Will was concerned, being overwhelmed was my default.
“Thank god,” he sighed, fumbling around for his bed control. When he found it, he lifted the head off the bed a bit. “I know grown men who wouldn’t have been as brave as she was after that snake bit her. I guess she picked that up from her older sister though.”
I could only presume he meant Reese, because I wasn’t brave. Not really. On the surface, I might look the part, but that forced bravery didn’t go more than skin-deep. “Speaking of brave . . . what you did . . . that was the most . . .” It sounded like overwhelming gratitude came with overwhelming stuttering. “That was something else, Will.” And when words finally did come out in a sentence, those were the ones I went with. Excellent.
“What was something else? Carrying your sister a few hundred yards and waiting with her until the ambulance showed, or managing to ingest a small amount of snake venom? Because in terms of epic ‘something else,’ I’d assume you’re referring to me hydrating with rattlesnake venom on accident.”
My eyes were adjusted enough that I could see his tilted smile. I shot him a smirk. “For someone laid out in a hospital bed, you’re in awfully good spirits.”
He pushed a button, and the head of his bed rose again. “I’m not laid out. I’m sitting up.”
I came around the side of his bed and gently flicked one of the I.V. bags. “Are they giving you the same happy juice as they are Paige? Because that’s got to be the good stuff for Paige to admit she loves me. To my face. Sans sarcasm.”
Will shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll have to wait and see if I profess my love for you as well. To your face. Sans sarcasm.”
I chuckled nervously. I knew he was teasing, but a joke that bordered too close to the truth was always unsettling. Especially when the way I felt about him was evolving . . . into something. I didn’t know what it was evolving into. It wasn’t love—yet—and it wasn’t hate. Yet. The myriad of other feelings, I couldn’t rule out. So yeah, I felt something for Will Goods, as Liv Bennett and Noelle No-Last-Name, but hell if I knew exactly what that feeling was.
“So. Snake bites. Sucking venom out,” I said, giving the subject a solid one-eighty. “You know that’s urban legend, right? It doesn’t work. If you don’t believe me, ask the entire medical community.”
Will tilted his head at me, his smile firmly in place. “If it doesn’t work, then how come you just told me Paige is going to be all right? Because if it didn’t work and that venom had worked its way into her system until the good doctors in the E.R. could treat it, I doubt you’d be in here now telling me Paige is okay.”
I couldn’t decide what I wanted to do more: wipe the smile off his face or kiss it off. Both were tempting, but I restrained myself from doing either. “Okay, know-it-all. So it works. You’ve proved me wrong.” I rolled my eyes when his smile widened. “Then how come every Wikipedia article about how to treat snake bites vehemently suggests that a person not suck venom from a bite?”
One side of Will’s face twisted up. “Because of what happened to me. Sucking the venom out works in most cases. For the victim, at least. The person doing the . . . sucking?” Will’s nose curled as he shook his head. “God, that sounds bad. There’s got to be another term.”
Yeah, that did sound bad.
“Venom extractor? Rattlesnake rescuer?” he listed off. “Damn, those are just as bad.”
“Hero?” I suggested. In terms of real-life experience, not as-seen-on-TV bullshit, what Will had done for Paige was the closest thing to heroism I’d witnessed.
“I’m not a hero, Liv,” Will replied.
“I’m pretty sure that’s what every other hero would say too. The only kind of person who would actually admit to being a hero is the farthest thing from one.”
“So what are you? The hero expert?”
I shook my head. “I’m the anti-hero expert. When someone comes along who’s the opposite of that, it’s pretty damn obvious.”
“Well thanks for the compliment, but I’m afraid we’ll have to agree to disagree. What I did was nothing anyone else wouldn’t have done. Paige needed help. I was in a position to give her some.”
I considered that. The way he’d said that made it seem like heroism was a simple concept when, to the rest of the world, it was far more complex. Going out of your way for another member of mankind was not a knee-jerk reaction. It was the stuff of . . . heroes. “But did you know that sucking the venom from Paige’s bite would endanger you too? Venom Extractor,” I tacked on, lifting an eyebrow.
Will bit his lip, probably to keep from smiling even wider. “I spent the majority of my deployments in the Army in some desert or another around the world. So yeah, I know a thing or two about snake bites, along with the consequences of sucking the venom from the bite.”
“That it could endanger, or even end, your life.”
Will shook his head once. “That it could and likely would leave some kind of permanent damage, possibly even death, for the snake-bite victim.”
That was why Will Goods was such an enigma. A mystery by every definition of the word. How could a man in his twenties, working on cars six nights a week and visiting a strip club the seventh night—where he knew how to do things to a female body that made th
ings like nirvana and euphoria seem possible—think the way he did and believe the things he believed? He had the wisdom of a man who had lived multiple lifetimes and the body of one who’d only just begun his first.
“You could have died, Will. For some teenage girl you don’t even know. I don’t . . . understand.” That right there had been my marching theme for the past month. I don’t understand. If I died tomorrow, that was what would be stamped onto my gravestone.
The skin between Will’s brows creased. “There’s nothing to understand. When I heard Paige crying for help, there wasn’t time to think. I reacted. When someone needs help, a person doesn’t stop to think, to pen out a pro versus con list, before jumping in to help. Paige was hurt. She needed help. I reacted. Anyone would have done the same.”
So perhaps Will didn’t have the wisdom of generations after all—at least when it came to certain things. Not if he still believed that mankind was basically good and that if someone cried for help, more people would come to their aid than would turn their backs and keep walking. Me? I’d learned the truth years ago. Mankind wasn’t a cooperative circuit that existed in a unified circle. Mankind was a single entity only acting out of interest for himself, flipping his proverbial middle finger at the person beside him.
In some ways, Will Goods was still very much a naive little boy.
“No, Will. You reacted. Most people would have thought first, maybe put together that pro versus con chart thing, and the vast majority of people would have dusted their hands of the whole mess and totally forgotten the young girl crying for help by breakfast tomorrow.”
The crease between Will’s eyebrows deepened. “Well, that’s a sad way to see things.”
“It’s not sad when it’s reality.” I’d come here to thank him, right? Not get into a debate about the shortcomings of the human race. Time to get back on point, Liv.
“If that’s your idea of reality, Liv . . . then fuck reality.” Will’s voice was calm, totally in control, which made hearing him say the word fuck for the first time that much more powerful.
Damaged Goods Page 19
