I struggled to my feet and stood between him and the senator, looking at him defensively. “He’s not dead.”
“I didn’t say he was.” He held his hands up. “He’s my friend, Griffin. I just want to see him, like you. To make sure he’s okay.”
I hesitated, letting him pass through. For some reason, I didn’t want anyone looking at him too closely. Didn’t want them to tell me he was…
I stopped that thought right f**king there.
Carrie’s dad sat on the opposite side of the bed and reached for Dad’s fingers with his trembling hand. “Larry.” He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry.”
“No.” Rage swept through me, strangling me with the strength and depths it struck in me. I snatched Dad’s hand back and gave the senator what I hoped was an eat-shit-and-die look. “You don’t get to say a word about being sorry for him. He’s fine.”
He stood up and covered his face. “Look, son, I know—”
“I’m not your son!” I held Dad’s hand to my chest. “You don’t even like me, and don’t approve of me and Carrie at all. Let’s not mince words tonight.”
He dropped his hands. “I don’t dislike you, Griffin.”
“But you don’t like me, either.”
He didn’t say anything to that.
I squeezed my dad’s hand. Was it just me, or was it even colder? “Where is the ambulance? And where’s Carrie with the blankets?”
“I’m here,” she said from behind me. She came to my side and gently laid blankets over Dad. “You doing okay?”
I swallowed hard at the look of concern in her eyes when she glanced my way. She was looking at me as if she was scared I’d fall apart. I wouldn’t. “I just want the ambulance to get here already. Then I’ll be fine.”
Senator Wallington cleared his throat. “Griffin, your father isn’t cold. He’s—”
“Dad, don’t.” Carrie kneeled beside me and rested a hand on my upper back. “Just don’t. Let me handle this.”
“I don’t need to be handled.” I looked at Carrie, swallowing hard when I met her eyes. There wasn’t pity, but there was sadness. So much f**king sadness. As if she knew he was gone, accepted it, and was worried for me. “He’s not dead, Ginger. He can’t be dead. I…he…no.”
The senator stepped forward again. “I know this is hard, Griffin, but—” Sirens sounded outside the window, and he cut himself off. “They’re here now.”
“About damn time,” I said, my voice even. I knew what he was trying to say, but I didn’t believe him. I’d know it if my father was dead, damn it. I’d seen dead. This wasn’t it. “Can you let them in? I don’t want to leave him alone in case he wakes up.”
“I’ll do it,” Carrie’s mom said. I hadn’t even realized she was here. “You stay with them, Hugh. Just in case.”
Just in case what?
Senator Wallington nodded. Carrie rested a small hand on my arm. “It’s going to be okay, Finn.”
I nodded, but didn’t say anything. I could sense more than see the long, shared look between Carrie and her dad. I ignored it. “I know.”
She laid her hand over mine and I clung to her, needing her strength now more than ever. But I didn’t let go of Dad. It seemed like it took ages for the paramedics to come inside, but when they did, I finally released Dad’s hand, but not Carrie’s, and moved out of their way. They came to the side of the bed and checked his pulse.
Carrie’s dad leaned down and whispered something to the man. After he finished, they both looked at me. The paramedic bent over Dad, his fingers doing something I couldn’t see. Senator Wallington approached me, his eyes filled with sadness and acceptance. I wasn’t accepting a damn thing he told me. “Griffin, I know it’s hard, but he’s gone. There’s nothing we can do to save him now.”
“You’re wrong.” I shook my head, my vision blurring. My heart thudded in my ears, and I backed up, dropping Carrie’s hand. I looked at the paramedic, who looked f**king terrified of me. “He’s alive, right? Tell me he’s alive.”
The man looked at Senator Wallington before studying me. “His heart gave out. If it’s any consolation, he went fast. There wasn’t time to—”
“No!” I fell to my dad’s bedside and shook him. “Dad. You have to wake up. Wake up right now, and show them you’re not gone.” I shook him harder. “Wake. Up.”
Carrie let out a sob behind me and squeezed my shoulder. “Finn, he—”
“No. Don’t.” I shrugged her off and shook Dad again. His lips were already turning that bluish, dead-like color that all corpses got. “But he was just here. He was just talking to me…no.”
Senator Wallington covered his mouth, his eyes watering.
Carrie nodded. “I know, but he’s gone.”
“No.” I swallowed past my aching throat. I ran my fingers over his cold forehead. He looked like he was sleeping. Not like he was gone forever. “I need you. Dad, please.”
Nothing. He’d left me, too.
Everyone kept f**king dying.
I stood up, roared, and punched the wall. My fist sank into it, sending pain flying up my good hand, but it didn’t numb the pain in my heart. The absolute, agonizingly real pain that choked me. So I punched the wall again. And again. And again. I lost count after the fourth time. When that stopped feeling satisfying, I started breaking shit.
Anything.
Carrie cried out my name, and tried to rush to my side, but her father held her back. He tossed her to a paramedic, who grabbed her arms and held her back, then stood in front of her protectively. Tears streamed down her face, and she was shouting words, but I didn’t hear anything. All I heard was my own heartbeat thundering at breakneck speeds. And these words kept repeating in my head: I lived. He died. They all died.
It wasn’t f**king fair.
By the time I was focused on the world around me again, I had no idea why the hell everyone was crying, or why Carrie was holding her face and sobbing her heart out. I collapsed against the wall, my breath coming out in ragged gasps. I stared at my feet, because why the f**k not? They were the only things standing still right now.
Everything else was spinning.
Someone came close to me, and I snapped my head up. It was Carrie’s dad. He looked scared of me. I was kind of scared of myself, too. “Griffin, you need to calm down. Don’t make them sedate you.”