Hunter is pacing my hospital room, clenching his hands into and out of fists. His clothes are still wrinkled, his hair disheveled, but something has changed. In his eyes, maybe. For the first time in so long, they gleam. “I’ll kill that son of a bitch,” he says. “I’ll kill him—”
“Have a seat.” Ronan is sitting on the chair beside my bed, his hands folded over his lap. His metamorphosis is more startling than Hunter’s, conjuring a cruel cliché.
The blow to the head did him some good. He’s the unwavering stone to Hunter’s manic, electric energy. In this moment, I realize just how much I missed him. Needed him. “We’ll discuss legal action later,” he says, glancing at me. “For now, we’re here for Snowy.”
“R-Right.” Hunter defers to him and sits at the end of my bed. He absently pats my leg as if ensuring I’m not made of tissue paper. “Snowy…” He swallows hard, but he doesn’t get the chance to finish his statement.
“We can survive this,” Ronan says bluntly. There’s a self-reflection I haven’t heard in so long in his tone. My eyes water at the sound. He’s my reliable big brother again, even if only for a moment. “We should have never made you feel as though this was your responsibility.” He grabs my hand, squeezing it thoroughly. “It never was.”
He directs a pointed glance Hunter’s way. “We will make this right. All you need to do is rest.”
Rest. As if it’s so simple a task when all we own is a smoldering ruin.
“What about you?” I demand, my voice so faint. I’m too drained to put real energy into it. A part of me is convinced that I’m still living in a nightmare. Any moment, this peace will cease. “Your head—”
“Hurts like hell,” Ronan admits, brushing his fingers along the gauze messily wrapped around his forehead. “The doctor thinks I’ll be fine after another day or so of observation—”
“As long as he doesn’t stage another dramatic escape, that is,” Hunter cuts in. “The bastard practically barreled over two nurses and a surgeon on his way out.” The pained smile on his lips betrays just how hard he’s trying to make a joke. Ultimately, it falls flat. “We heard about the fire on the news and, God…” He stares at his hands, slowly shaking his head. “I’ve never been so fucking scared in my life, Snowy.”
The house. I squeeze my eyes shut against the memory. “What will we do now?”
I don’t expect an answer.
Sighing, Hunter concedes to the silence.
Ronan curses. “We’re fucking Hollingses,” he says defiantly. “That means we always persevere.”
I let myself believe him even though my heart aches with the truth: They are Hollingses. Dizzy with that knowledge, I close my eyes tighter, sinking into the darkness. But a nightmare waits for me, taking the form of a specter with blue eyes and a haunting gaze.
I own you, he tells me. Did you think I’d really let you go?