Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 145402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 727(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 727(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
"Noted. Watch him a moment, Kurt," Browning said. Kurt stepped aside and pulled the door open. Browning strode past him, clapping as he went to get everyone's attention. Even on the balcony he was loud enough for Nathaniel to hear every word. "Listen up, people. You've got twenty minutes. Let's keep this orderly and have only one person up at a time."
Kurt obviously expected the Foxes to submit without a fight, because he dropped his arm and let Nathaniel through. He should have waited a bit longer, as Nathaniel's teammates started arguing almost immediately.
Dan's outraged voice carried the easiest when she snapped, "Twenty minutes? You've got to be joking. Why do—oh my god," she broke off when Nathaniel stepped into the room. The rush in her voice wasn't anger or disgust, but terror-fueled relief. "Oh my god, Neil. Are you okay?"
Nathaniel opened his mouth, but words failed him. Last night he knew he'd never see any of them again. Having them back was a salve on every one of his aching wounds, but he was keenly aware he was just here for goodbye. It would kill him to walk out of here.
He owed them explanations and apologies, but he didn't know where to start. All he could do was look from one stunned face to another. There was a hollow look on Kevin's face and dark bruises on his throat. Nicky was a disconsolate mess near the window. Allison and Renee sat on the far bed with two black eyes and a couple dozen bruises between them. The spots on Allison's arm were obviously left by fingers. Nathaniel hoped Allison beat up whoever was stupid enough to grab her so hard, but maybe Renee had handled that for her. One of Renee's hands was bandaged and she wore a brace on her other wrist. Aaron sat halfway down on the same bed, and for once even he looked more upset than angry when he looked at Nathaniel.
Matt and Dan were on the nearer bed. Matt had a white-knuckled grip on Dan's shoulder like he'd had to stop her from charging Browning. Matt had taken a severe beating in the riot and still had ice packs strapped to both hands. His shirt was filthy and torn in two places, and Nathaniel could see ugly bruises through the gaps. Abby stood between the beds, her first aid kit open on the blankets near Matt's right hip, but she dropped the antiseptic she was holding when she saw Nathaniel.
Abby's mouth moved, but Nathaniel didn't hear a word she said. Browning said the Foxes only suffered minor injuries and that none of them had ended up in the ICU, but only seven of them were here. Wymack was out moving the bus, but that left one person unaccounted for.
Nathaniel's blood went cold, and he couldn't keep the alarm from his voice when he started to ask, "Where's And—"
There was a crash behind Nathaniel, the unmistakable sound of a body slamming into wood. He turned as Andrew forced his way into the room with Wymack right on his heels. Kurt grabbed at Andrew but lost his grip when Wymack shouldered past him. Nathaniel had only a second to see the handcuffs locking Andrew and Wymack together, and then Browning reacted to the violent entrance by reaching for his gun.
Nathaniel grabbed Browning's arm with both hands and yanked as hard as he could. He only meant to slow Browning down and pull him off-balance, but the agony that shot from Nathaniel's fingertips to his elbows almost took him off his feet. He let go without meaning to and hunched over like that would somehow make the pain go away. Crushing his hands to his stomach didn't help, but Nathaniel needed to shield them somehow.
"Don't," he said through clenched teeth.
He thought he said it, anyway; he couldn't hear himself through the white noise roaring in his ears. The weight of a hand on the back of his neck said he'd bought Andrew enough time to reach him. Nathaniel didn't remember closing his eyes, but he forced them open again. He tried straightening, but Andrew caught his shoulder and shoved him to his knees. Nathaniel went without argument and cradled his wrecked hands in his lap. His hands felt so terrible he expected to see blood soaking through his bandages, but the gauze stayed white and clean.
"Leave it," Wymack said.
He sounded so angry Nathaniel knew Wymack wasn't talking to him or Andrew. He guessed Browning or Kurt was moving to haul Andrew out of the way before he hurt Nathaniel further. Either the feds trusted his judgment or they couldn't get around Wymack to get to Andrew, but Andrew knelt in front of Nathaniel unchallenged. Nathaniel turned his hands over and looked up.
Andrew's expression was deceptively calm, but there was iron in his grip when he seized Nathaniel's chin. Nathaniel let him look his fill because it gave him time to study the bruises lining Andrew's face. The worst of the lot was a dark, narrow streak running down over his cheekbone from the corner of his right eye. The force of impact left half of Andrew's eye red with blood. An elbow, Nathaniel thought, that had come way too close.
"They could have blinded you," Nathaniel said. "All that time fighting and you never learned how to duck?"
A stony stare was his only answer. Andrew let go of him so he could tug Nathaniel's hood out of the way. He dragged a finger along the lines of tape keeping the myriad of bandages in place as if looking for the best place to start. He tore the gauze off Nathaniel's right cheek first, exposing the striped lines left by Lola's knife. He favored the stitches with a cursory glance before moving on. The tape on Nathaniel's other cheek hurt like hell coming off, since it pulled the skin around his burns, and Andrew froze with his hand a few scant inches from Nathaniel's face.
Andrew's expression didn't change, but there was a new tension in his shoulders that didn't bode well for anyone in the room. Andrew had dropped the first bandages as useless, but these ones he slowly set on the floor by his knee without taking his stare off Nathaniel's face. Since Nathaniel was kneeling with his back to the room, Wymack was the only other person who could see the mess Lola made of his face. Nathaniel didn't dare look up at him, but Wymack's fierce, "Christ, Neil," said the burns looked as bad as they felt.