Page 17 of The Burning
Mendoza used his free hand to tug at the T-shirt to tighten it. “Yeah, let’s get this over with,” he agreed with me and started to walk to the check-in desk with Kael.
“Wait—” Kael quickly turned on his heel and snapped his head toward Austin, again avoiding me. “What are you guys doing here?” His eyes narrowed to suspicious slits, looking my brother up down before his hand reached out for the pocket of Austin’s jacket.
I froze. Why was he so worried about Austin, who was clearly fine, and not me? I guess I had already become a part of his past, though it had only been a few weeks.
Austin jerked away from Kael’s grasp on him.
“Dude,” he said defensively. “We’re here because of Elodie, not me.” He pressed his hands to his chest and tapped over his heart. “I’m good.”
Kael glanced at me, then back to my brother. He hadn’t looked at me long enough to actually see if I was okay, but it was clear he didn’t give a shit.
“What happened to Elodie?” Mendoza was the one to react first.
As Austin’s words sunk in, Kael snapped his head up again. The way he moved was so fast, so soldier-like.
“Wait, Elodie? What happened to Elodie? Does Phillips know?” He pulled out his phone and stared at the screen for a second, like he was going to call Phillip, but then realized that he couldn’t because that’s not how war worked.
Kael’s eyes darted to and away from me so rapidly that a blink would have missed it. It was obvious that he was trying to avoid me, even though he was the one who’d fucked up. It pissed me off. If anything, I should be the one avoiding him. His body language would suggest to any onlooker that he and I were strangers—no, enemies. And that pissed me off even more.
I thought (well, hoped) that maybe if I could keep his eyes on mine for just a few seconds, if I used the sincere look that was reminiscent of the nights we spent lying in my bed with the box fan on my dresser whispering softly behind words and sounds that only Kael had ever heard from my mouth, I just knew I would see the sadness, the regret, that I wanted and expected to be on his face. I hoped he hadn’t heard me mention his name when he appeared in the doorway. I wanted to be in control of our first encounter to keep him from manipulating me. I wanted him to hear my voice and remember those times the way I did. I cut off the rant inside my head to keep my temper at bay and my tone casual while my fingernails were digging into my palms.
“She’s okay. We were here to check on the baby because she—” I started to say, but realized I shouldn’t give him or Mendoza too much information about her personal life. Especially since they were clearly on her husband’s team and he was directly responsible for most of the Elodie’s stress.
“Because she what?” Kael prodded.
It wasn’t my place to tell him anything about her and really, I should have just told him to mind his own damn business and worry about his friend who was currently bleeding through a T-shirt. But for whatever reason, we chose to stand there, wild west style, not making eye contact but not moving. It felt like he was waiting for me to walk away first and that just wasn’t going to happen.
“Is anyone going to fill me in?” Kael asked, cutting off Mendoza, who was wondering the same.
“Really, what business is it of yours? You haven’t seen her lately and you clearly have other stuff going on. You can either go ask her yourself or wait until her asshole husband tells you,” I snapped.
Kael’s face twisted and Mendoza’s smile disappeared. Austin shifted awkwardly between us, deciding whether or not to take on the role of referee.
“We don’t know anything yet but she’s okay—” my brother told them.
I cut him off before he could add anything else. “And she hasn’t talked to her husband yet, so you should do her a favor and wait until she does before running off to tell him yourself.” I hoped and prayed that my voice sounded as harsh as I needed it to.
Kael simply nodded and looked from me to Austin. No reaction. Back to the cold, emotionless soldier I’d seen plenty of times before. What a fucking joke.
“Let me know when you find out and I hope Elodie is okay,” Kael told my brother, affection wrapped around her beautiful name.
As Austin agreed, I studied Kael’s expression. It was obvious that he cared about Elodie and her baby, but for someone left with so little detail, he was eerily composed.
“It was scary, but she’s fine. I think.” Austin paused. “I hope,” he added, wiping his forehead.
Kael nodded coolly, the face of a soldier doing his duty. Why wouldn’t he at least look at me? Why did I want him to so badly that it physically hurt? My mouth was dry as Austin asked him something I didn’t hear because my thoughts were all over the place, beating loudly in my head.
“I’m gonna go check in. The tequila is starting to wear off.” Mendoza walked away slowly, like he had a heavy rucksack on his back.
Austin and Kael were still talking, but I couldn’t keep up. Their voices sounded like the teacher in Charlie Brown. My eyes focused on Kael’s mouth, the sharpness of his square jaw. He was freshly shaven, looking youthful compared to me. My face had broken out, and I’d barely put any makeup on, hoping my skin would heal faster and honestly not really caring what I looked like lately. He looked like he’d slept at least eight hours and had coffee and didn’t have a care in the world. I had too many. I should have brushed my teeth, changed my clothes, washed my uniform yesterday, plucked my brows. I should have worn at least a little makeup, but I hadn’t expected to see Kael. Or to see anyone or go anywhere but my dim, candlelit treatment room at work. I had my hair tossed halfway up, the top part still powdery with half-rubbed-in dry shampoo and the roots slightly damp from the rain. My eyes were puffy from lack of sleep, lack of motivation to do anything, really, and Kael looked like he had never been better, which was probably true.
Even under the harsh light of the sterile hospital, his dark skin was glowing. The mint-green sweatshirt he wore looked great on him, as did his black cotton joggers. They were fitted to his body, clinging to the thickness of his thighs and hanging perfectly on his hips. I loved the way he always made street clothes look so good. I had been swooning over him—his outfit, his vibe, his everything. I wasn’t worried about him noticing; it’s not like he was paying attention to me, anyway.
My fingers twitched as I looked at the scar above his thick eyebrow and thought about how soft it had felt under my fingertips. It seemed like I hadn’t seen him in months, not just weeks. His white sneakers looked brand-new as always. My work shoes were dirty and loosely laced up. I felt sloppy next to him. Even though I looked like shit, I wanted some sign that he cared enough to acknowledge me.
Mendoza came back over to us with an update that there were three people ahead of him. He said the hospital staff were probably tired of seeing him here, which made me wonder just how often he visited the ER.
“How you been, Karina?” he asked, his brown eyes slightly hooded. He gently rocked his shoulder into mine and glared at Kael and my brother. It made me smile that he seemed to notice my discomfort.
