Free Here for You by Skylar M. Cates Page B

you know, a piece of him—” Cole shuddered. His throat closed over again. He didn’t want Ian to feel sorry for him, but he was unable to hide it.
    “Yeah. I know.” Ian wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
    They sat there.
     
     
    E VIE , THEIR landlord, who was crazy about Brendan, arrived, her pretty face looking careworn as if it had been on a dry cycle a few times, dragging her two tween girls in tow. She could not enter the ICU but sat in the waiting room anyhow. Evie wore her standard outfit of oversized sweatpants and a stained T-shirt. She gave Brendan’s parents a hateful look. She too had witnessed all those holidays when Brendan was so devastated. But then she sighed, fumbled for her cigarettes, and stopped, remembering it was a hospital.
    “Poor people. They never deserved a sweetie like Brendan for a son, but hell, I wouldn’t wish this on any parent.”
    Evie crossed herself and then hugged her sullen thirteen-year-old daughter, Rachel, to her, ignoring the girl’s squirming protests.
    Tomas tried to call River, while Marc stewed. Cole still could not talk. He got up and paced the hallways.
    “Cole,” Tomas called. “Come here.”
    But Cole continued pacing.
    Ian had gone to make certain Brendan’s folks wouldn’t change their minds. Then the nurses wheeled Brendan somewhere to do the organ harvest. His heart. His lungs. His kidneys. Maybe more, but Cole couldn’t think beyond that. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to lie down.
    He wanted it to be yesterday.
    Cole felt as if he would splinter into a thousand pieces with the slightest word, the slightest knock.
     
     
    I T DIDN ’ T take long for the end.
    Ian stood next to him, tight jawed, as the doctors talked to Brendan’s parents for the final time. None of them cried then, although they’d all cried earlier, on and off.
    They were too stunned. It was somehow, again, a total shock.
    Dead.
    Brendan was dead.

C HAPTER T EN
     
     
    T HE DAY before the funeral, River packed up all his shit and disappeared. They came home and found him gone. The three of them stood in River’s tiny room, staring in disbelief at the stripped bed. All that remained were wire hangers on the empty closet’s rail.
    “How could he do this?” Marc demanded.
    “He’s hurting,” Tomas said.
    “Fuck him! We’re all hurting.” Marc kicked at the wall.
    “We’re his family,” Cole said, but in a small voice. “He’ll come back.”
    “I don’t want him back! Rat bastard. Leaving us hanging, missing Brendan’s funeral tomorrow. Fuck him!” Marc turned his anger on Cole. “When will you give up this fantasy that we can be some happy little family? It’s bullshit! Open your eyes and see what’s really here for once, Cole. It’s always been bullshit.” Marc stomped out of the room.
    “Maybe he’s right.” Cole sank heavily onto River’s bed. “Maybe I was deluding myself all this time and it’s all bullshit.”
    “No, don’t say that.” Tomas fumbled for words. “It’s hard for Marc to have your kind of faith. All his life, Marc never got to be safe. But here in this house? Even watching our pennies, scraping it together from our dirt wages, even bickering with each other or getting on each other’s nerves, Marc was slowly starting to believe. This is…. Marc can’t…. I don’t know what Brendan’s accident will do to him.” Tomas ran a hand through his dark hair. “Or to me. I hope River will come back. But we can’t focus on that now. Right? We need to figure out a way to be here for each other, those of us left.”
    Tomas came to him and hugged him. Then he went to search out Marc.
    “I’m sorry.” Marc found Cole later. “I’ll try.”
    “Me too.”
    Marc wasn’t much of a toucher, so they merely exchanged weary smiles.
     
     
    E VERYTHING WAS changing without Brendan, and he had only just died. What would the future bring? Cole sucked in a breath. He stared at his reflection in the mirror as he changed into a suit for