Chapter 70
He held Colby’s hand until they took Colby away for scans, and then he was alone in a hallway, alone with dripping water and distant beeping monitors and hospital lights. He didn’t even know the address; he couldn’t recall how he’d gotten there, other than clinging to Colby and a blur of equipment and sounds.
He was very cold. His hands were wet. His face felt wet, cold and hot at the same time, as if his eyes were burning while the rest of him froze.
Someone kind put a blanket over his shoulders and gave him dry scrubs to change into, which he did, mechanically, in a bathroom. The shirt strained over his shoulders. He couldn’t care. He’d wear anything if he got to see Colby again.
He saw red. Blood. A smudge of Colby’s blood along the side of his hand. He had to look away. He had to keep looking away while scrubbing skin over the sink. When he finally looked back, his skin was pink and scoured. The red was gone. He couldn’t unsee it.