Finding Valor (The Searchers Book 2)

by Ripley Proserpina

  “You know,” Apollo continued, “I almost wish I’d decided on medical school. I’d always know what could be wrong with us. I’d know if we should worry…”

  She ran her fingers along Cai’s. “You can be a doctor, and I can be a nurse. Ryan will be a lawyer. Matisse… You know? I don’t even know what he does.”

  “I’m still on the doctor-nurse thing.” Apollo chuckled.

  “Matisse does a lot of things. He has money from his family, and he does computer stuff. I couldn’t explain it even if I understood it,” Ryan answered honestly. Matisse’s “work” was a complicated system of jobs he did for his family’s company or off-shoots of his family’s company.

  “Oh,” she muttered, distracted, and then her eyes widened. “Apollo!”

  “What?” he winked at her and Ryan and then laughed.

  Rather than be upset at Apollo for suggesting he wanted to see Nora dressed sexily, Ryan laughed at her delayed embarrassment. How easily he’d accepted her being his friends’ girlfriend, as well as his own.

  What it came down to was: it didn’t matter. Apollo’s feelings, or any of the other guys’ for that matter, didn’t diminish what he felt. There was no niggling unease or jealousy, though he’d prefer if he was the one who got to see her in the nurse’s outfit first. As long as it happened, though, he’d be happy.

  What a relief the whole realization was.

  On the bed Cai groaned, and their attention shifted to him.

  “Hey, baby. You’re okay.” Nora leaned over him, and they crowded closer. “You had strep, and it did a number on you.”

  His gaze skittered across them, and he cleared his throat, wincing. Apollo handed Nora a cup of water, and she offered it to him. Cai’s face was pained, throat working as he attempted to swallow. Ryan found himself wincing in sympathy.

  “Why am I in the hospital?”

  “You had an insanely high fever, man,” Apollo explained, taking the cup from his trembling hand. “Broke out in a nasty rash. We didn’t know what was the matter.”

  “A rash?” Lifting his head to examine his body, Cai’s eyes widened at the ruddy, raised skin on his hands.

  “It’ll go away. It’s from the type of strep you have,” Nora spoke quickly to reassure him.

  Fear flashed across his face. Ryan knew where the fear came from. Cai was afraid it was something left over from his childhood, some weird virulent strain of illness coming out because, in his family, medical care was way down on their list of priorities.

  “The doctors will be here soon,” Ryan said. Stepping closer to the bed, he attempted to infuse his voice with confidence. “They’ll explain everything. You’ll be okay.”

  “We’re staying until you go home,” Apollo added.

  “You won’t be alone,” Nora whispered and then added, “We’ve set up an encampment. We’re taking over the place.” Her voice had a conspiratorial tone, and Cai laughed.

  A group of doctors entered the room just as his laugh turned into a barking cough. Acknowledging the rest of them briefly, they turned their focus on Cai. “Malachi Josephs, twenty-five year old male, arrived last night with fever and red, raised rash covering hands, chest, neck, face, and upper thighs. Delirious and combative, he was sedated and antibiotics were administered intravenously. Diagnosis: scarlatina caused by group A streptococcus.”

  The rate at which the man spoke made it difficult for Ryan to follow his speech, and he could tell by the way Cai’s face paled, they’d only made him more nervous.

  “Can you use layman’s terms, please?” Ryan interjected.

  “Yes.” Nora’s voice was hard and annoyed. “Please.”

  None of the doctors present this morning were the doctor who’d admitted him last night, and the one who spoke was detached and rushed. “Yes,” he was quick to reply. “Of course.” His tone changed. “Mr. Josephs has scarlet fever, caused by the streptococcus infection. His symptoms—sore throat, fever, rash, headache—will go away over the next few days and weeks as the antibiotic does its work.”

  It would have been easier if the doctors had started simply. Cai relaxed, and Nora looked less likely to murder them for scaring him.

  “So, he’s getting better? He’ll be okay?” Ryan asked.

  “There are possible complications: rheumatic fever, the bacterial infection spreading to the tonsils, kidney, or lungs.”

  Face draining of color, she struggled to speak, so Ryan interrupted, “But that is unlikely?”

  “Highly,” the doctor replied.

  Jesus.

  The few moments Cai was awake already seemed to be wearing on him. What followed was a series of descriptions about the type of medicine he was given, how, and for how long. Ryan couldn’t follow half of it.

  They left much like they arrived: noisily. A band of geniuses with squeaky shoes, babbling abbreviations understood only by them.

  Cai was asleep before the door closed.

  “Can you explain it so I can understand?” Nora asked, her voice quiet.

  Ryan glanced at Apollo. He was the one who could answer her question, not him. Ryan had only understood every third word.

  “Those scary things he talked about? Those are very rare, not likely to occur at all. He’s going to be fine, but it’s going to take a while,” Apollo said.

  “Did they say how long he’ll stay here? Or was it one of the abbreviations I missed?”

  “No.”

  Matisse and Seok entered as Apollo was explaining and began with their own questions. What did they say? What’s wrong? Will he be okay?

  Again, Apollo told them everything he knew. On the second time through, Ryan really came to understand that Cai would be all right.

  “No side effects?” Matisse asked again. It was the third time he’d asked the question.

  “Probably not.”

  As the day wore on, the stress of the night and the unfamiliar space wore on them. Eventually, it was decided one of them would go home to get supplies and then dinner for the rest of them.

  “Not it.” Nora touched her nose.

  “I’ll do it,” he offered. The fresh air would wake him up, and he could get his computer and homework. His worry for Cai had pushed his schoolwork out of his head, but with the doctor’s and Apollo’s reassurances, his to-do list was moving to the forefront. Looming largest was the assignment Professor Bismarck had given him for making his case to the student council at CCSL.

  Apollo needed his homework as well, but unlike Ryan, he was organized and had all of his things ready to go in his backpack. Matisse wanted his computer, and all of them wanted their phone chargers and extra clothes, but that was pretty much it.

  “What about you, Nore. What do you need?”

  “Hmm?” She blinked at him, like she’d forgotten about the rest of them. Dark circles ringed her eyes, and the slight bruise on her temple stood out against her light brown skin.

  Running the back of his hand down her cheek to get her attention, he watched her eyes close. “What can I bring back for you?”

  She shrugged. “Clothes?”

  “You got it.” He leaned down and kissed her.

  Her eyes left his, going back to Cai’s resting form, and he could tell she’d forgotten about him. It made him smile, struck by the clear love pouring out of her. If it was him lying in the bed, he’d have had her complete focus. Which was pretty amazing.

  Figurative list in hand, he left his friends and Nora in the hospital. It was good to get outside. The traffic and wind noises were soothing compared to the constant hum and chime of alarms in the hospital. There was so much movement there. The nurses coming in at all times, the way the lights were never off. His internal clocks were off-kilter, and it wasn’t until he came out into the waning sunlight he realized it was the afternoon.

  Their house was west, and the sun was low, shining directly into his eyes and obscuring his vision. It was the reason he didn’t see the reporter standing on his doorstep.

  “Do you liv
e here?”

  His head shot up, and he narrowed his eyes, taking in the camera and the eager, heavily made-up man waiting for him. “Who are you?” he asked.

  The reporter gave a sign to the cameraman who then moved into his path. “Does Nora Leslie live here? Can we speak with her? What does she have to say about the recently released video of her brother, Reid Merchant?”

  His mind was so utterly focused on the tasks he needed to complete, he could barely follow the reporter’s questions.

  “Excuse me,” he answered, shouldering his way past the man to stick his key in the lock. He cursed Seok, who’d wanted an era-appropriate door and, as a result, they had the stickiest, hardest to turn knob in the universe.

  He could feel the camera fixed on him. It was a tangible weight, pressing against his neck, making him shiver. It reminded him of being a little boy and running through the dark, sure something tracked him with its eyes.

  The reporter continued to shout out questions, but he ignored them, closing the door firmly and decisively behind him. Closing his eyes, he listened to the man ring the bell again and again. He made sure the deadbolt was thrown and then stepped away.

  The house was cold and strange. During the week, when they were all running about doing their own things, someone was always home. If no one was, there were signs of someone’s imminent return. Lights were left on, or he would smell coffee or whatever someone had made for dinner.

  Now, it was missing their potential presence. Everything felt…off. It made him hurry upstairs, anxiety nipping at his heels. He wanted to be back with Nora and his friends, not alone inside this weird-feeling house.

  Stopping in each room to gather the things his friends needed, he tried to focus only on what he needed to do. But when he walked into Cai’s room, he came to a sudden and abrupt halt. The covers of his bed were strewn about the room. The closet light was on, illuminating the chaos they’d left. It gave him a clear picture of Matisse throwing shoes over his shoulders as he struggled to find a pair and Apollo or Nora digging through drawers to find a t-shirt.

  They’d all been so scared.

  He shook his head. What he’d felt the other night was more than scared. It was more than fear. The possibility of losing his friend had loomed large, and all of them knew it. He remembered how hot Cai’s skin was and the way he’d cried out, his fever making him think he was living some hell from his past. No matter what the doctors said, he’d nearly lost his friend last night, and he didn’t want to imagine a life without him. Ryan cared for him, loved him. The idea of living without Cai, or any one of his friends, was as bad as living without Nora.

  They were all connected, intrinsically, heart-to-heart. They may not be his blood, but they were his brothers and he loved them.

  Ryan found a change of clothes, sniffing them to make sure they were clean before whipping his head away. Nope. Picking up another shirt, he chose this time not to risk the offense to his senses and merely stuffed it in his backpack. He turned around, leaving Cai’s room, but paused at the door.

  He wasn’t sure if Cai would want it, or even want to know that Ryan knew about it, but it needed to come with him. Walking to Cai’s bed, he reached under the pillow and pulled out a faded and folded photograph. No one who knew Cai now would recognize the boy in the photo. They’d most likely identify the man— tall, sturdy, golden —as Cai.

  But Ryan knew which figure he was.

  Pale, small, hunched. Lips a tight white line to hide blackened teeth, jaw clenched to ease the ache caused by broken bones unhealed or untended.

  Carefully folding the photograph again, he slipped it into his pocket and left the room.

  His room was last; he didn’t need much. Computer, textbook, t-shirt, toiletry bag. They might be willing to share deodorant, but sharing toothbrushes was where he drew the line. A streetlight shone through his window, and he pulled up the blinds to see if the reporter was still stationed outside. Across the street was a van with the local news station’s logo printed across the side, and he mentally dope-slapped himself.

  I’m going to be later than I thought. He wrote out a message to Seok.

  Everything ok?

  Reporters. Video of N’s brother.

  What? How did they know where to find her?

  No idea. Waiting for them to leave, then I’ll head back.

  Ok.

  With nothing else to do for the time being, he opened his computer and began his argument for CCSL. But his fingers hovered over the keys. How did he start?

  Mea culpa. Mea máxima culpa. “Through my fault, an innocent boy spent two years in prison. There is nothing I can do to give him back those years or make up for what he lost.”

  Ryan went on. He listed everything he thought Beau lost, and he compared it to the shit he’d done. He wrote it all down like it was a confession.

  But part of confession was penance, and this time he asked himself, pretending he was an objective lawyer and not just a guy trying to get something, what he’d done to make up for his sins.

  And he wrote it all down. Stepping away from the events, viewing them dispassionately, he listed them. Community service based fraternity. Fundraising. House building. Volunteering.

  Every specific, every detail. He included it all, and at the end of the list, he had fifty bullet-pointed activities he’d created or participated in. There were twenty built-from-the-ground-up volunteer services which hadn’t existed before he’d imagined them and worked them into existence.

  Never had he contemplated the sheer amount of guilt he carried. This list showed how massive, how heavy, the weight was. Ryan dragged the boulder of his wrong with him, and in two years, he’d eaten, slept, dreamed, worked with his crime at the forefront of his mind.

  God, he was tired.

  No longer did he want Beau to be whom he thought about each morning. Maybe Beau was his inspiration for all this, but it needed to change. He needed a bigger reason now. Suddenly, he realized he had a bigger reason.

  He had Nora. He had his family.

  In that second, the instant his brain fired the thought, the darkness left him. There was no reason to be cowed or to hide; he’d made a mistake. A mistake. A horrible, life-changing one, but he’d been a boy who’d made a mistake, and the man he was now no longer needed to pay for it.

  Ryan lifted his head, tipping his it to the ceiling and then from side to side, working out the kinks and tightness in his muscles. Glancing through the window, he saw that the news van was gone. The streetlights were on. The time on his computer showed early evening. He’d sat for hours writing his defense, and yet it had flowed from his fingertips effortlessly once he’d given himself permission to defend himself.

  It might not work. The student council at CCSL might see the crime, read his attempt at atonement, and find him wanting. They could decide he wasn’t the sort of person they wanted at their school.

  And that would be okay.

  He would be okay if he wasn’t a lawyer. There were other things he could do. Things like he’d already done.

  He hadn’t considered other careers, but he could. Public service or government? There was more than one path available to someone who wanted to make a difference in the world.

  Closing his laptop, he paused. It was time to go. Everyone was waiting for him at the hospital, and his defense could keep for a few more hours. He’d send it to Professor Bismarck, and then he would send it to the dean and request an opportunity to meet with the student council the next time they convened.

  All the items his friends and Nora had requested were stuffed into his backpack and two giant workout bags he’d found in Apollo’s room. Hefting each bag onto a shoulder, he ping-ponged downstairs and out the door. The sense of relief stayed with him the entire ride back to the hospital, on the elevator, and to Cai’s room. He only hoped this state of mind would last.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Better

  CAI WAS AWAKE. He looked better, skin brighter, less sallow. He was
smiling, listening to whatever it was Nora excitedly explained. Ryan couldn’t hear her, but through the window he could see her hands moving.

  As he turned the corner, Matisse met his eyes and winked. “Seok has created a monster.”

  “Impossible,” Seok argued. Leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees, Seok smiled widely at Nora. “Go on. Tell Cai what else you learned.”

  “What are they talking about?” Ryan dropped the bags on the extra bed and took a seat next to Apollo.

  “She-Hulk.”

  “Who?”

  “Don’t ask,” Apollo said. “But we need to be excited. She got a second interview at a place downtown, and she’s researching lesser known comics.”

  “She-Hulk is pretty well-known, not like Polaris or Domino. She should probably know those, too,” Ryan mused.

  Seok hissed at him, but the moment Ryan had spoken, the room got quiet.

  “I really like She-Hulk, though,” Nora whined. “Seok? Who is Polaris?”

  “We’re just starting. You can’t know everyone.” He shot Ryan an angry glare. “Don’t worry about it right now.”

  Her face, which had been worried, cleared. “No?”

  Reaching forward to brush her hair back, Seok reassured her, “No. Keep telling Cai what you’ve learned.”

  “You don’t remember any of this?” she asked Cai. “I told you about it when you were sick. I don’t want to bore you.”

  “I really don’t.” Cai’s voice was rough. It made Ryan want to clear his throat in sympathy. His friend reached forward, lightly brushing Nora’s temple. “I’m so sorry.”

  “You didn’t do it on purpose,” Apollo jumped in. “I was in the car with you, Cai. You were completely out of it.”

  “I told you it was an accident,” Nora added.

  The muscles in his cheek jumped as he clenched his teeth. “No excuse.”