Freeze (The Jewel Project #4)

28.2|| Disaster's Eve

It was horrible. Seeing Sam lying in bed, his face unrecognizable under the swelling, connected to machines to stay alive, was too much for Jerry.

Then there was Tom who had fallen into a zombie-like state. After announcing the news, he hadn't said a word. He didn't even have any reaction upon seeing Sam, watching everything with empty eyes.

Jerry could only assume what was going in inside him. But seeing everyone so broken had been too much, so he retreated to the only place he hoped could give him some solace. The hospital chapel.

He couldn't kneel, what with the cast, but he sat in the first pew, joined his hands, closed his eyes and prayed. Or at least he tried to.

The ache in his chest was real as he tried to come up with something else beside why, God, why? He'd always prayed to give thanks or ask forgiveness. He'd never felt the slightest need to chastise God. Not even when Carlos had been killed. But now...

He's my baby brother. Why did this have to happen to him?

Sam had always been so good. And the only one Jerry had childhood memories with. It was what tied them, made them understand each other beyond anything he had with anyone else. He loved Kyle, Jimmy and Tom, but Sam... Sam was his rock.

Please, God, save him.

That felt a little more appropriate, even if there was still resent inside him. He should be grateful. Grateful that everyone else was alright.

Billy. The only other person in the group he had grown up with. Even if he came a few times a year, Billy had felt like a brother to him, too.

No, he couldn't escape the resent. Not when his cousin was potentially dead, not when his baby brother was nearly there as well and not when he felt more broken than he ever had.

"Jerry?"

Speaking of which... Tina sat next to him, carefully, as if she were about to break. She'd gotten off easy, with just the broken arm, but she still winced at every movement. Jerry found it annoying. His head felt like it was filled with slush, Kyle could barely breathe and Tom, Angie and Kay all had broken ribs and didn't complain that much.

"Hi," he said, his tone neutral.

"I'm really sorry about Sam," she whispered. "Christine is devastated." The last sentence was a bit skeptical, as if Tina didn't really believe Chrsitine would care that much.

It wasn't the case. Christine had cried, screamed and raged at Snitch Gravel until the doctors sedated her and took her out of there. Until that happened, she'd been glued to the operating room door, then to Sam's side, continuously apologizing for some stupid thing she'd said, as if it mattered.

Yes, despite what everyone thought about her, Christine cared enough to show raw emotion. Unlike the statue next to him.

"Thanks," he said flatly.

He didn't want to talk to her, though he knew there were things left unsaid between them. He didn't want to say them then. He just wanted a little peace and quiet.

She put her hand on his shoulder. He tensed, but she didn't get the message. Instead, her hand moved to the back of his head, sunk into his hair. He should tell her to back off, but he liked it. The softness of her skin, the way she caressed him as if she cared.

She took his face in her hands and her cinnamon gaze found his. He held it, basking in another familiarity he was about to lose for one last time. Her eyes fell on his lips and she leaned in and kissed him.