Following Me (28 page)

Despite his protests, Devon
helped Brennan clear the table, and then she washed off her plate and placed it
in the dishwasher.  When he finally pushed her out of the kitchen, she walked
over to the couch and sat back down.  She flipped on the television to some
random channel and waited for Brennan to return.  It didn’t matter what was on
TV because she wasn’t really paying attention.

A couple minutes later, Brennan
walked into the living room.  He slid into the seat next to her and wrapped his
arm around her shoulders.  She leaned back against him, snuggling into his
chest, and he intertwined their hands in her lap.  It was comfortable and
nice. 
How long had it been since she had felt like this? 
It had been
at least a year, probably longer, since she had done this with Reid.  She
couldn’t remember that far back, back when it had been different, and she
didn’t want to think any more about it.  She wanted to be content.

They sat like this through the
mindless television show.  Devon couldn’t have told anyone what happened on the
show, but she knew the rhythm of Brennan’s heart, the small movements he made
when he nestled closer to her, and the soft caress of his fingers on her hand.

When the show ended, Devon shifted
to reach for the remote, but Brennan moved first.  He clicked the power button,
and the screen went black.  Devon turned her face up to him, her eyebrows
scrunching together.  When she found him staring down at her in adoration, all
the tension eased from her face.  His hand moved and tugged lightly on the hair
tie, freeing her long locks to fall down around her face.

“I love your hair,” he said,
running his hand through one side, causing her to shiver.  “I love when you
wear it down.  I love when it irritates you, and you throw it all over one
shoulder.”

His hand brushed her hair to
expose her neck, his fingers trailing lightly across her skin.  Her breathing
turned shallow, and her eyes darted to his lips and then back to his eyes.

“I love your big blue eyes, and
the way they can find me in a crowd even when you don’t mean to.  I love your
lips that you constantly bite out of frustration, that you suck on when you’re
writing lyrics in your journal, that you pucker when deciding on what to
order.”

Devon swallowed.  She couldn’t
breathe.

He leaned forward, cupping her
chin with his hand.  “I really love your lips,” he whispered softly before
pressing his lips against hers.

This time, Devon sighed into him,
not even thinking about pulling away.  She was lost—mind, body, and soul—to the
man before her.  Somehow, along the way, he had captured not just her lips but
all of her. 
How had she evaded him for so long?

His tongue stroked her bottom lip
and opened her mouth.  She met him tentatively at first, and then she wholly
indulged in the feel of him.  Her senses intensified all at once, feeling the
softness of his lips against hers, the calluses on his hands touching her skin,
his taut body pressing into her.  His scent clouded her mind, and she forced
herself not to move too fast.  His fingers moved to knot in her long hair, and
she moaned lightly into his mouth.

Being kissed this way was like
tasting the first strawberry of the season—so sweet and way better than you
ever remember.

They remained kissing leisurely,
distractedly, happily until Brennan remembered that he actually had to go into
work that day.  Devon didn’t have many days off, and since she had worked so
hard the day before, today just happened to be one of those days.

Brennan left to take a shower,
and Devon pulled out her phone, trying not to envision him naked.  She wasn’t
having much luck.

She had turned off her phone last
night because she hadn’t wanted to be disturbed.  Mostly, she hadn’t wanted
Garrett to call her.  When the screen brightened and finally reached a signal,
her phone lit up with messages, missed calls, and voice mails.

What the hell?
she
thought, clicking on the first message.

She had expected Garrett to leave
one or two texts and maybe a voice mail, asking her to come back.  Maybe he
would even apologize for his behavior. 
But thirty-two messages and five
voice mails? 
That was just absurd. 
What was his problem?

Devon didn’t even want to read
the messages.  She clicked out of them and turned to the voice mails.  These
were all from this morning.  She shrugged and pressed the phone to her ear.

“Devon, you might hate me, but
answer your phone!”

She stopped the message, not
willing to hear the rest.  The next one started playing right after that.

“It’s Hadley.  She’s in the
hospital.  She’s at Northwestern Memorial.  I don’t care if you hate me, but
think of Hadley.”

The voice mail ended, and Devon
stared down at her phone in shock.  All the softness and ease of being with
Brennan this morning drained out of her face…out of her whole body.  Hadley was
in the hospital. 
Shit!

Devon jumped off the couch in a
rush, throwing her phone into her purse.  She slammed her hand down on the
bathroom door just as the shower shut off.  Brennan cracked the door, holding a
towel around his waist.  He was still wet, and his hair was hanging low, almost
over his eyes.  She was momentarily distracted by him.

Then, she shook her head and
reminded herself what was really important.  “Hadley,” she gasped out. 
“Garrett called, and she’s in the hospital.”

“What?” he cried, rushing past
her.  “What hospital?”

“Northwestern Memorial.”

“That’s not far from here,” he
told her.  “Let me throw on some clothes, and we’ll go.  I’ll call Jenn from
the car.”

Devon wasn’t
sure why, but her mind focused on the strangest things under stress. 
Brennan
had a car?

BRENNAN KNEW HIS way around
Northwestern Memorial better than Devon thought most people should be able to
maneuver a hospital.  Devon was anxious and kept bumping into him as they
walked through the building.  The ride over had been extremely short.  She had
almost felt bad taking a car, considering the L wouldn’t have been much more
effort.  But she did enjoy watching him, albeit reluctantly under the
circumstances, driving his little Jetta Hybrid through the busy streets with
his Wayfarers on.

He found what he was looking for
and approached a desk with a lanky man standing behind it.  “Excuse me, we’re
here to see Hadley Bishop,” Brennan told the man.

The man scanned his computer,
running his finger along the screen.  “Ah, she’s in the ICU.  Go straight down
this hall, then turn—”

“Thanks, I know the way,” Brennan
said, cutting him off and loping down the hallway.

Devon followed at his heels,
wringing her hands like a maniac.  She wished she had a pen to flip, but she
had already checked in her bag, and she didn’t find one.  Brennan walked down a
few corridors and then stopped when they reached the waiting room to the ICU.

He steadied her before they
walked to the nurses’ station.  “Do you know what she’s here for?” he asked.

“Well, I have a guess.”

Brennan nodded.  “Your guess is
probably right.”

“I know,” she whispered, staring
down.

“Are you ready for this?”  He
rubbed her arm.

“I don’t know.”

“I wish you didn’t have to see
her this way.  This isn’t like her.  She should have never overdosed.”

Devon gasped.  She didn’t know
why.  She knew that was the reason Hadley was here, but saying it out loud
sounded so much worse.

Tears sprang to her eyes, and she
was suddenly glad that she was outside the room.  All the adrenaline from
getting to Hadley was wearing off, and she felt exhausted.

Brennan’s arms wrapped around
her, and she leaned into him, thankful that he was here, that he hadn’t gone
into work.  He kissed the top of her head, and he held her in his arms as she
cried through the pain.  She was crying for more than Hadley, but the knowledge
of what Hadley had done was the most potent at the moment. 
Why were things
falling apart?
  She felt so guilty for being happy with Brennan this
morning when Hadley was suffering all alone.

“You couldn’t have done anything
about it,” he whispered against her hair.

“I know,” she said.

“You don’t.  But she’ll be okay,
and she’ll realize it was her mistake.  You can’t blame yourself.  It’s not
your fault.”  He was rocking her gently.

“I know,” she repeated.

“You can’t have this on your
shoulders, too,” he said, pulling back to examine her.

He bent down and firmly pressed
his lips to hers.  Devon sighed into him, thinking she would never get tired of
this.

“Chin up.  Let’s go see her.”

“Alright,” she said shakily.

They turned the corner and walked
up to the nurse.

“We’re here to see Hadley
Bishop,” Brennan said to the nurse.

“One moment please.  Let me see
if she can have visitors,” the nurse said, staring down at her computer.  The nurse
spoke through an intercom to someone and waited for a response.  “Alright, you
two can go on in.  She is in room six.  Please be mindful of the nurse
working.”

“Thank you,” Brennan said with an
appreciative smile.

They walked through the door into
the ICU.  It was a large hallway of rooms with all glass doors on each side. 
Each room was easily accessible from the nurses’ station.  They walked down the
hallway to Hadley’s room.  Just as they arrived at the glass door, Garrett
walked out and slid the door back into place.

Devon’s stomach lurched at the
memory of his body covering hers.  He wouldn’t meet her eyes, and she was
glad. 
He should be ashamed.
  He looked the worse for wear, and Devon
wondered how long he had been here with Hadley.  The pang of guilt hit her
again.

“Glad you made it,” Garrett said,
finally looking at her.

She glanced away, not having the
strength to challenge him.

“We would have come sooner, but
Devon’s phone was off,” Brennan said with a shrug.

“You had your phone off at work?”
Garrett asked, confused.

“I didn’t have to work today,”
Devon said, not sure why he even cared.

“She was already with me,”
Brennan explained before Garrett could ask another question.

Garrett’s eyebrows scrunched
together, and his eyes wavered between them.  She didn’t want to know what he
was thinking.

“Can we see her now?” Brennan
asked impatiently.

“Oh, of course,” Garrett said as
if he hadn’t realized his body was blocking the entrance.  “She’s doing a lot
better than when they first brought her in.  She’s sedated, and they pumped
everything they could out of her system.”

Devon glanced through the glass
at her best friend, and a sob escaped her throat when she saw her.  Sure, they
had been estranged this summer, but Hadley was still her best friend.  They had
lived together for almost three years, drank at stupid frat parties together,
figured out how to cook together, had girlfriend weekends, and so much more. 
Nearly all her happy memories from college were with Hadley.  The worst part of
her relationship with Reid had only happened after Hadley left, and it made her
sad that six months could change so much.

Her Hadley was the same person as
the one who was now lying in a hospital bed, breathing with the assistance of a
ventilator and looking as white as the blank sheet covering her body.

“The doctors said that she was
lucky to be with other people last night.  Her friends brought her in when she
became unresponsive, and then they disappeared as soon as they dumped her at
the ER,” Garrett said.  “The doctors aren’t sure what she was on. So far,
they’ve found the primary source to be cocaine.”

“Which explains the sedative,”
Brennan said almost to himself.

“Yeah,” Garrett agreed.  “But she
was clearly drunk and had taken some pain pills as well.  From listening to the
doctors, I gather they were some pretty strong ones.”

“She’s so pale,” Devon said
softly.

“I just…I can’t believe she would
do this to herself,” Garrett said.  “We fought, but that shouldn’t have been an
excuse for…for this.”  He gestured toward Hadley.

Brennan said something quietly to
Garrett, but Garrett just continued to stare at Hadley as Brennan talked.

Devon walked inside the room and
over to Hadley’s side as the guys talked to each other on the other side.  She
tuned them out and sat heavily in the chair next to the bed.  She took Hadley’s
hand in her own, surprised to find it was so hot it felt like it was on fire. 
Devon curled her fingers around Hadley’s hand anyway and leaned her forehead
against it.

“I’m sorry, Hadley,” Devon
whispered.  “I’m sorry for knowing and not doing enough.  I’m sorry for putting
you in a rough place.  I’m sorry for using your weakness to my advantage. 
That’s a shitty thing for a friend to do.  I’m sorry for not being your friend
since I got here.  I wish I could tell you everything I’m sorry for, but I
don’t think you would want me to be here all day and night.  Mostly, I’m sorry
that we’re not close like we used to be.  I don’t know who pushed the wedge in
between us, but I don’t like it.  I kept secrets…you know I did.  But you were
keeping them, too, and then you pushed me away when I was trying to help you. 
I don’t blame you.  How could I ever blame you?  I’m just sorry it came to
this, and I hope that when you wake up, we can fix this.  You’re my best friend.”

Devon squeezed her hand and stood
before she the tears came.  She couldn’t cry again.  She had cried too much.

“Is she going to…be okay?” she
managed to get out before covering her mouth at the thought.

“Yeah, the doctors said she would
be okay physically,” Garrett told her.  “Mentally and emotionally though will
take time.”