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Revenge Best Served Cruel

Chapter 8: Time Flies

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When Buck’s eyes shut and didn’t open again, time and space went all funny and fuzzy for Eddie Diaz. He saw events as if through funhouse mirrors - warped, sideways, confusing. Hen suddenly appeared, sure hands pressing on Buck’s chest. She was both close and far away as arms both soft and hard dragged Eddie both toward and from his bleeding love.

The gunshots stopped. Eddie’s eyes swept the yacht deck. Every bad guy lay on their chest as police officers cuffed their wrists and paramedics plugged bleeding wounds. Chim appeared. His lips were moving but Eddie couldn’t hear him — couldn’t hear anything but a shrill ring. Chim gripped Eddie’s upper arms and shook him. His eyebrows stretched tall and his frown sagged deep.

The mute ringing stopped without warning. Noise flooded Eddie’s world. His body buckled under it - under everything - and he crumpled to his knees. The deck looked different. It WAS different, Eddie realized. When had he been moved to a different boat?

“He’s in shock,” Chim reported, answering a question Eddie didn’t hear. “Sunburn, bruises, contusions… Those are cattle prod burns. And at least two ribs are cracked. Someone performed CPR on him.”

And then Eddie was on his back, watching the stars while droplets of saltwater splashed across his face. The boat rumbled and burped beneath him as it sprinted to shore. Chim was reporting to someone over the radio.

The sky shifted, and the moon appeared. Eddie's lips twitched in a slight smile back at it.

Something interrupted the moonlight. An awning. Then the inside of an ambulance. Bobby was there — just sitting there holding his hand while the sirens squealed.

“Buck?” Eddie croaked.

“Haven’t heard anything, son,” Bobby said, shaking his head.

Eddie stared at him. “You’ve never called me son before.”

Bobby winced. His grip on Eddie’s hand loosened. “If it bothers you—”

“I like it. But Buck is your son, too, and he and I are definitely not… Not brothers…”

“Oh?”

“We’re an US now. We kissed, Bobby. We’re an us—” Vowels tumbled out of Eddie’s mouth. They made no sense. He felt that sensation again — like his head was cooking. Another seizure was coming…
Bobby was yelling. Bobby was begging.

I don’t want to wake up again, Eddie thought, if Buck isn’t there when I do…

Time passed. Eddie smelled the hospital... Without opening his eyes he stretched his whole body. Bandages across his chest pulled at the movement. He felt the many tubes and electrodes and needles.

A hand landed on his wrist. “Eddie.”

Eddie licked his lips and whispered, “Bobby?”

“I’m here, son.”

Eddie kept his eyes shut - squeezed them. “Is he alive?”

A pause. “Yes. Buck’s alive.”

A sound half-hiccup, half-sob of relief erupted from Eddie’s chest. “Is he… Is he going to be ok?”

Bobby’s grip on his wrist loosened. “He’s… He’s alive, Eddie.”

So many unspoken words. Eddie wept. He took his wrist back from Bobby and rolled over into a fetal position facing the opposite direction.

“Eddie…” Bobby whispered.

“I don’t blame you, Bobby,” said Eddie. He trembled under the blankets and rubbed his arms like he was freezing. “It’s not your fault…”

“I’m still sorry, son.” Nash sounded like he had a deep chest cold. “Eddie, I… I’m so, so sorry…”

“C-Chris?”

“He’s ok. Terrified. Ok.”

Silence. Eddie sobbed hard, but mute. “Don’t take Evan from me,” he begged in his mind. “Not now. Not when he’s finally mine.”

He fell asleep without trying.