Tell Me When

by Stina Lindenblatt

  “Are you Marcus Reid’s family?” he asks.

  “He doesn’t have any family,” Chase says.

  The surgeon checks the file in his hand. “It lists his parents here as next of kin.”

  Chase grunts. “No one knows who or where his biological father is. His stepfather’s the one who shot Marcus.” He gestures at the room. “And as you can see, his mother doesn’t give a damn about him, even though I’m positive the cops told her hours ago that Marcus is here. So you tell me. Do you think he has family?” He pretty much growls the last part.

  I put my hand on his knee, knowing how much this is killing Chase, like it’s killing me. What if they won’t tell us anything or won’t let me see him because we aren’t his family, even though we’re more family to him than his parents ever were?

  The surgeon looks at the chart again, then looks back at us. “He’s out of surgery and is recovering.”

  “Is he gonna be okay?” I ask.

  “Barring complications, he’ll be fine.”

  “Can we see him now?”

  “It’s late and he’s sleeping. You should go home and rest, then you can see him in the morning.”

  “Please,” I breathe. “Just for a minute.”

  I don’t know what he sees in my face. Maybe a girl who’s scared he’s not telling the truth because she’s been lied to too many times before, or a girl who struggles to find hope when it’s been stolen more times than she cares to admit. Whatever it is, it’s enough for him to cave in and tell me I can see Marcus for a minute. But only me.

  He directs me to the ICU. Chase waits in the hallway while a nurse leads me to Marcus’s bed. His eyes are closed and his skin is as white as the sheets, but he’s still the same guy I love. And more important, he’s alive. The beeping heart rate monitor by his bed is all the proof I need of this.

  Tears prickle my eyes as I smile at him. I don’t say anything. I just watch him sleep, hoping he doesn’t have any nightmares, knowing I will. But maybe the therapist can help me with those, too.

  The nurse comes to tell me it’s time to go.

  “I love you,” I whisper, my heart fluttering at the words.

  I drive back to the dorm and tumble into bed. But tonight it isn’t nightmares that follow me into sleep. Tonight I dream of strong arms, a crooked smirk, and the belief that normal might actually be possible.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Amber

  “Amber!” Someone shakes my shoulder.

  I open my eyes and blink the room into focus. My head is resting on my arms, which are folded on top of a textbook. I sit up and spot Brittany’s drawing of Marcus and me on the wall.

  Memories of last night swarm me. My chest feels as though someone jumped on it, forcing air out of my lungs.

  “Isn’t your math test soon?” Brittany nods at my alarm clock. Crap, it’s already 10:50. My exam begins in ten minutes.

  “Thanks.” I grab my backpack and bolt from my room without bothering with my jacket, and sprint across campus, though the falling snow, to the classroom. A few last-minute students scurry into the room as I approach. I enter the room with a minute to spare, and locate an empty seat with a test booklet facedown on the desk.

  My lungs burn as I fight to catch my breath. Snow melts in my hair and drips down my face and Trent’s hoodie.

  “You may begin,” a man at the front of the room announces.

  Just remember to breathe, Marcus’s voice says in my head. My throat tightens. Focus. Just three hours, then I’ll be finished with the exam and can hold him and make sure he knows how much I love him.

  I flip the test over.

  On the way to the classroom, I didn’t have time to think about Marcus, but now that I’m sitting, the memory of the gunshot, the memory of seeing Marcus barely conscious, the memory of so much blood, and the memory of Marcus pale against the hospital sheets spills into my mind, and shoves aside everything I knew for the exam.

  I try pushing all non—math-related thoughts from my head and focus on the test. I finish the first twenty questions, but my mind keeps drifting. The memories I’m struggling to forget, and the fear that something’s happened to Marcus since I left the hospital, keep bombarding my brain.

  Focus. Focus. Focus. FOCUS.

  I work through the questions, but my pace is dragging. I yawn and round my eyes in an attempt to prevent them from shutting. The moment I do it’s over.

  The person in the next row over coughs. I look up and spot a guy who could easily be Alejandro in five years. He’s working away at his test, hopefully never having experienced the same horrors as Marcus and Alejandro.

  Tears prick my eyes at what Frank did to them and Ryan. Marcus once said the world doesn’t give a shit what happens to victims, especially kids. It only cares about the people who count. Jordan wants to make a difference. So do I.

  And right now, I want to be at the hospital with Marcus, to be there when he wakes up. So he’s not alone.

  I finish the question I’m working on and walk to the front of the room. I hand the unfinished test to my instructor. “My boyfriend is recovering from surgery he had last night. As much as I want to finish this test and the course, I can’t stay here anymore. I need to be there for him.”

  The man gives a curt nod, his expression unreadable. I shoulder my backpack and leave.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Marcus

  I open my eyes to the sun shining in my room. It takes a minute or two to remember where I am, and for the memories of last night to surface through the haze in my head. I vaguely recall waking up several times during the night, but this is the first time I’ve felt this coherent.

  “Afternoon,” a short chubby woman says, smiling next to my bed. The top of her uniform is covered with cartoon cats that make me think of Smoky. “How’s the pain?”

  “It’s good.” They must have me doped up on some pretty strong meds. I can’t feel too much right now, though I’m sure that won’t last forever. “What time is it?”

  “One-thirty. Your girlfriend should be back in a minute. She went to get coffee.”

  “Amber’s here?” Didn’t she have her math final this afternoon? I strain to remember what time it was scheduled for. Maybe it was for this morning. Or maybe I’ve been out of it for a few days and she’s already had it.

  “She’s been here for a while. Poor girl looks exhausted. You sure know how to show a girl a good time.” She laughs and checks my IV, then peels back the dressing from my wound.

  She’s just finished redressing it when Amber enters, carrying a brown paper bag and wearing the sexy black dress she wore that first night at Nightshade. The night when first I realized, deep down, I never wanted to let this beautiful, damaged girl out of my life. Only, thanks to me screwing up several times, I almost did.

  Unlike the nurse, she blushes at the sight of my half-naked body, even though she’s seen a lot more of it than the nurse. Or maybe that’s why she’s blushing. She’s remembering just how much of it she’s seen. That thought makes me grin.

  After retying my sling, the nurse gathers her supplies and smiles at Amber. “All right, young lady, he’s all yours. Just remember to be careful with his wound. We don’t want it to start bleeding again.”

  Amber blushes a deeper shade of red at the comment. My grin widens at where her thoughts might have gone.

  The nurse adjusts the bed so that I’m sitting and leaves.

  Amber places the paper bag on the moveable table near my bed and sits on the chair. “I bought you some chicken noodle soup.”

  “Thanks.” Not that I’m hungry. There’s only one thing I’m interested in holding right now, and it’s not food.

  I pat my bed. No way is she sitting on that damn plastic seat when there’s a comfy spot—well, as comfortable as a
hospital bed can be—next to me.

  She looks at it, uncertain, then smiles and moves out of the chair. Leaning over, she gives me a sweet kiss on the lips, setting off the heart rate monitor next to my bed. I laugh at her smug smile when she realizes why the monitor started beeping.

  She pulls away and sits next to me. I crave more than a sweet kiss, but I don’t think the nurses will appreciate walking in and finding out exactly what I want to do to Kitten now that she’s finally back in my life.

  “What time’s your math test?” I don’t want her to leave, but I know she’ll have to go. Too bad she doesn’t have her math books with her. I could help her study. Though I’m not sure how good a tutor I’ll be with these drugs in my system.

  She bites her lip. “It was this morning.”

  “How did it go?”

  She looks over at the heart rate monitor, which started beeping again even though she didn’t kiss me this time.

  She smiles and shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  I frown. “It doesn’t? Why not?”

  “I’ve decided not to be a veterinarian.”

  “I thought that’s what you’ve wanted to be since you were a little girl.”

  “I did. But that was the old Amber. I’m not that girl anymore, and I never will be.” The corners of her lips slide down briefly before she smiles, again. “I want to help other victims of crime. I’ve been seeing a therapist.” Her smile widens at my surprise. “I want to help other victims realize that to win, you have to stop blaming yourself for something that wasn’t your fault, that only then can you be a true survivor. Otherwise you let the criminal win.” She looks at me pointedly as she says it.

  “You have to stop blaming yourself for what happened to Ryan,” she adds softly. When I don’t respond, she says, “How old were you when it happened?”

  She doesn’t say the words but I know what she’s referring to. “Thirteen.”

  “You were only a boy, Marcus. Frank was a full-grown man. You couldn’t have protected yourself and Ryan against that. You didn’t let your brother down. Frank did, and so did your mother. Don’t let them win by blaming yourself for their actions.”

  I thread my fingers through her hair and bring her head close to mine. “Have I told you how much I love you?” I murmur. I vaguely remember telling her after I was shot, but I’m not sure if she heard me, or if I just imagined saying the words.

  She smiles against my lips. “I love you too. More than you could possibly imagine.” We kiss, and the monitor goes all kinds of crazy. I’m surprise the nurse isn’t rushing in with a crash cart.

  My fingers slide under the edge of her T-shirt and glide across her soft skin, making up for lost time. The door opens, but the meaning of it doesn’t register until a female voice interrupts our moment. “Is everything all right in here?”

  I move away only far enough so that Amber’s forehead rests against mine. “I’ll say.”

  The nurse chuckles and leaves us to enjoy the rest of the kiss. Unfortunately, Amber decides to go back to chaste pecks on the lips. I groan. How much longer do I have to stay here before I can have her in my apartment and back in my bed?

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Amber

  “Do you want me to come in with you?” Marcus asks from the passenger seat of my car. I’d planned to see my mom today, for better or for worse, and Marcus came with me, saying he had a surprise.

  I still don’t know what it is.

  I smile at him, thankful he’s here, even if I want to face Mom on my own. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay, call me when you’re finished.” He leans over and kisses me on the lips. I’m tempted to deepen the kiss and stay in the car with him, but know I have to get this over with. And I know Marcus needs to stretch his legs after the drive. It’s been a week since he was shot. He needs to take things easy for a while, and continue to wear the sling. But that isn’t stopping him from taking a short walk in the freshly fallen snow.

  “Be careful,” I remind him. “The sidewalks might be slippery.”

  “You’re sexy when you worry.” He chuckles and kisses me, again. His tongue trails along my lower lip, hinting he wants more. I give in to him, because let’s face it, I’m willing to do almost anything for this man.

  Before things get too steamy, and Mom catches me making out with him on the driveway, I pull away.

  I use my key to get into the house. I’m about to call out to see if Mom’s home, when I hear a light bang from the kitchen, like someone’s putting a glass on the counter.

  As I walk through the house, I notice the absence of Christmas decorations. We used to love decorating the house. It was a family tradition. Mom would make hot chocolate and play cheesy Christmas music and we would spend the day decorating. Now more than ever, the place feels forgotten.

  Pushing away the heartache at how much Paul altered our lives, I enter the kitchen. Mom’s standing at the counter, lost in thought. An empty glass rests on the granite surface.

  My heart lurches. “Hey Mom.”

  At first she stares at me like she’s hallucinating, then her mouth glides into a smile. She rushes to me and throws her arms around me, squeezing me tight. “I’ve missed you, Amber.” She pulls away and wipes a stray tear. “How’s school?”

  I’m only able to open and shut my mouth, a fish in a bowl, unable to make a sound. I eventually find my voice after Mom gives me a peculiar look. “It’s fine.” Other than the D I’ll probably get in math.

  I eye the glass on the counter.

  “I was drinking milk before you came in. I’m attending weekly AA meetings again and seeing a therapist. And I left my position at the firm.”

  “But you love your job.”

  She shakes her head. “Maybe once. Before Paul Carson killed Michael and hurt you so badly, I thought I’d lost you forever. I struggled with the job, because I couldn’t defend to the best of my abilities like I’d sworn I would do. So I started drinking. It was the only way I could make it through the day, knowing I was helping people like Paul, who willingly destroyed without regret.

  “It didn’t help that I thought you hated being around me, because I failed you by not protecting you. I didn’t handle Michael’s death well at all. But no matter what you might have believed, Amber, I never blamed you for what happened to him. It wasn’t your fault. I hope you know what.”

  I do, but hearing it from her makes it even more real. “Why would you think that I hated being around you?”

  “Because you avoided me once you were released from the hospital. You spent more time at your grandma’s house than you did here.”

  I can only blink. “I stayed at Grandma’s because you wouldn’t let me keep Smoky. He’d been through so much, and he was so scared. I needed to be there to help him heal. I was the only one he trusted to do that, until he realized Grandma wouldn’t hurt him.”

  Mom brushes a strand of hair behind my ear like she used to when I was little. “I’m sorry, Amber. I should have just asked you. I let my stupid pride get in the way. Anyway, it was your phone call that reminded me just how important you are to me. That, and my mother told me I’m an idiot and needed to smarten up. I thought she was going to ground me like she did when I was a teen.” We both laugh at that. “I’m not giving up law. I’m just changing the side of the fence I’m sitting on.”

  We talk for a while longer, and I tell her about my change of career plans. She’s more excited about it than I thought she would be. Then I call Marcus and introduce them when he shows up a minute later.

  I’m a little nervous at first, but she accepts him just like she accepted Trent. Fortunately she doesn’t ask about his sling, though she doesn’t seem surprised by it, either. Maybe Grandma told her what limited information I shared with her on the phone last week. I mentioned he ha
d been in the wrong place at the wrong time and was shot. They don’t need to know all the details. And not all are for me tell.

  Marcus and I are still deciding what to do about Tammara. Despite what she did to both of us, neither of us is interested in destroying her future. We’re going to talk to her after Christmas, once we’ve decided what to do.

  Mom makes hot chocolate, and the three of us hang up Christmas decorations. She doesn’t have a tree, but she explains she doesn’t need one. She’s spending Christmas with us at Grandma’s house when we come back next week.

  Once we’re finished, Marcus and I head to Grandma’s, where Marcus explains my surprise is waiting. We walk to the front door holding hands.

  We don’t have a chance to ring the doorbell. The door opens and Grandma hugs me and then Marcus, taking care not to hurt his shoulder.

  Inside, I breathe in the familiar spicy smell of spruce and gingerbread. No fake Christmas trees for Grandma.

  “You two want some milk and cookies?” she asks.

  “Sure.” I scan the area for signs of Smoky as Marcus replies, “Yes, please.”

  Grandma flashes me a knowing smile. “He’s on the couch, waiting for you.”

  I grin and let go of Marcus’s hand. He follows me into the living room.

  “So what’s the surprise?” I plunk myself on the cushion next to Smoky.

  Marcus sits next to me, our bodies touching, and reaches over to stroke Smoky. Smoky purrs in response, stands, and relocates himself so he’s sitting on both our laps.

  “This is your surprise,” Marcus says.

  I feel my eyebrows head north for the winter. “Smoky sitting on our laps is my surprise?”

  Marcus laughs. “No. I know how much you miss him and it’s obvious how much he misses you. So if you want, he can stay at my place. Chase is fine with it. Then you’ll have a reason to visit more often.”

  I blink several times while his words sink in. This is a huge step for Marcus. For both of us.