“Yeah,” he said, wrinkling his nose and wincing. “Ow.”
“Sit down,” I said, guiding him to the edge of the tub. It was that faint green color that had been all the rage in the 1970s. Avocado? Like the rest of the house, the bathroom was in direneed of a makeover. Or a bulldozer. I shoved the towel into Chase’s hands. “Hold that against your nose.”
His reply was muffled.
“Is it just your nose?” Danny asked. “Shit. Where’s the first aid kit?”
“What the hell happened?” I didn’t wait for an answer. I ducked out of the bathroom and crossed the hall.
The twins’ bedroom was dark, but there was enough light from the hallway to faintly illuminate it. It was sparsely furnished, with only twin beds, a closet, and a rack for hanging clothes. Wilder was hunkered down in the narrow space between the two beds, his hand on Cash’s knee as Cash sat on the bed. Cash looked distraught and tearful, and Wilder’s voice was the quietest and gentlest I’d heard it since I’d met him.
I couldn’t hear much of what he said, just soothing variations on the theme of “It’s okay. He knows you didn’t mean it. It’s okay.” I stepped back, aware I was witnessing a private and vulnerable moment I had no right to see, and went back into the bathroom to check on Chase.
Danny had found the first aid kit, which he’d unzipped on the closed lid of the toilet. He was staring at the contents blankly, still half-asleep and maybe even still a little drunk like me, I guessed.
“Has the bleeding stopped?” I asked.
Chase gave me a narrow look from behind the bundled-up towel. “Before you go all Mr. Attorney and lay some lawyer bullshit on me, it was an accident. He had a bad dream, that’s all. He wasn’t even awake.”
“I wasn’t going to lay any lawyer bullshit on you,” I said.
Chase grunted. “Good.”
Danny’s mouth quirked in a faint smile. “I’m gonna put some milk on the stove. Want to give me a hand, Miller?”
Chase’s glare said he didn’t want me hanging around, so I followed Danny to the kitchen. The light flickered a few times before it came on, and Danny said, “Saucepan’s in that cabinet there.”
I found the saucepan, then hovered awkwardly while Danny put some milk on the stovetop to warm and dug around for mugs and hot chocolate powder. Then, when everything was lined up and we were just waiting for the milk to heat up, he leaned against the counter, tilted his head back, and closed his eyes.
He let out a long, slow sigh. “What time is it?”
I looked at the blinking clock on the old microwave. “Four.”
“Shit, I gotta be up for work soon.”
I probably needed to leave as well, but I also wanted to be sure that Chase and Cash—and Danny—were okay. I moved the milk off the heat and said, “So, tell me to mind my business if you want, but what was that about?”
Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. “Cash gets night terrors. He just caught Chase in the face with an elbow, is all. But he always feels bad when it happens.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond.Sorry your roommate has traumadidn’t really cut it.
Danny must have caught something in my expression because he threw an arm over my shoulder and pulled me close and said, “Don’t let Chase see you with that look on your face.”
“What look?”
“The one that says you feel sorry for them.” He nudged his chin against mine. “They’re fine, honest. Well, fine compared to how they were, anyway. This is the first time it’s happened in a couple months.”
“The nightmares or the punch in the face?”
“Don’t make my brother sound like an asshole,” Chase said, glaring at me as he shuffled into the kitchen. “It was anaccident.” His nose was red and puffy, and he sniffed as he poured the milk into two mugs.
“I know it was,” I said. “I like Cash.”
Chase stared at me for a minute as if he was trying to figure out if I meant it before giving me a terse nod. Then he added hot chocolate mix to the milk and carried the cups carefully out of the room toward the bedrooms.
Wilder appeared in the kitchen a minute later. “Chase has him,” he said around a yawn. “I’m going back to sleep.”
“Thanks, man,” Danny said.
