Page 46 of Thicker Than Water
“It is, actually.”
“—probably Jason’s, he probably cut himself and—”
Somehow my mouth knows to freeze, even as my mind is sluggish to process Beck’s interjection.
“Wait.” I fall back a step. “What?”
I look at Julia, who’s staring up at me. Her eyes are wide and wet enough that I can practically see myself reflected in them.
Lou cups my elbow. “The results came back. The blood on Jason’s knife is a match to Gavin.”
“No,” I say, and it feels like I’m breathing in slow motion, like my body will accept only the thinnest sip of air.
“It is,” Lou says. “I’m sorry. I got in my car as soon as I heard they were coming with a warrant, and it was only in the parking garage that I finally got word about why. I’m sorry. I would have liked to give you more warning.”
His voice is quiet, gentle, but his words plug up my ears, water I can’t shake out.
“No, there has to be some mistake,” I say.
Beck taps the warrant against his palm, its fold as sharp as a blade. For a second, I picture blood spilling from his hand, staining the white page.
“You’re going toarresthim?” I say. “He’s in a coma! What do you plan to do, wheel his bed to a jail cell?”
“We’re going to hold the warrant,” Beck says, “until he regains consciousness. But in the meantime, this is Officer Grady.” He gestures to the cop beside him. “He’ll be posted outside Mr. Larkin’s room.”
“Like a guard?” I run my eyes over Grady. He’s the opposite of intimidating—thin as a sapling, too young to question orders—but there’s a pompous tilt to his lips that makes my nerves sizzle. “You’re acting like my brother’s a flight risk. I don’t know how many times I have to say it, but he’s asleep!”
“Sienna, believe me, this is the better option,” Lou says.
“Better than what?”
“Than restraining him to the bed.”
“What?”
My gaze drops to Officer Grady’s belt. Handcuffs dangle there, shining in the room’s abrasive lights. They hang open like hungry mouths, eager to chomp onto Jason’s wrists.
“This is insane,” I say, walking a tight circle in the middle of the room.
Lou stops me with a hand on my arm, speaking so low that Idoubt even Julia hears him. “It’s far from an open-and-shut case. We’ll fight it.”
His eyes are somber but kind, filled with compassion as they hold on to mine. I’m reminded of a picture, pressed into one of my mother’s photo albums, of Lou with his arm slung around my father’s shoulder. The picture, snapped at some party my parents hosted, is only memorable to me because of the shenanigans captured in the background: a clump of kids shrieking through trust falls. In the photo, I’m just a shape, a blurry slant above the grass, and behind me, Jason is solid and still, his body braced for strength, his arms open to catch me.
“Okay,” I say, and Lou steps back, turning toward the cops.
“Detective, Officer, may I speak with you outside a moment please?”
Beck nods and waves Officer Grady forward. On the way out, Lou shuts the door. I don’t know if he’s allowed to do that—Jason’s door has always been open until now, except for when the nurses usher us out to run their tests—but I appreciate the gesture of privacy.
“Jules.” I crouch in front of her chair. She’s staring straight ahead, eyes stunned and unseeing. Tears speckle her lashes. “Did you hear what he said? This is far from over. Lou’s going to fight it.”
When she doesn’t respond, I grab her hand, shake it like she’s sleeping and I need to wake her up. “Jules.”
Finally, she blinks, tears spilling onto her cheeks. I wipe one away, but they keep cascading, silent and steady.
“Lou will figure this out,” I say. “He’ll make this go away.”
Julia releases a jagged breath. “No he won’t.”
