If the waiting didn't kill Jace, the dark cloud of doom surrounding Dare Mills just might. The long hair and leather identified him as the infamous rock star he was, but the worry twisting his face with concern was a staunch reminder that he was only human and an utter wreck over his little brother's hospitalization. It was almost five a.m. Trey had been out of a successful surgery for a few hours now, but he was still sleeping off the anesthesia.
"Why won't they let us in to see him?" Dare asked for the twentieth time. "I just want to see him."
"He needs his rest," Eric said. "That's all." He produced a lion-sized yawn and scrubbed his face with both hands.
"It's not like I'm going to yank him out of the hospital bed and take him for a cruise down the Vegas strip. I just want to see him. To know he's still fucking breathing."
Jace patted the back of Dare's hand. He understood all too well what Dare was feeling. Not that he could express it. Every time he opened his mouth to tell Dare how it had felt to sit in a hospital waiting room while a loved one's life was in the hands of strangers, the white walls seemed to close in on him, and a paralyzing anguish stole his breath. None of his experiences with hospital waiting rooms had ended well. Dare didn't need to hear that, and Jace didn't want to revisit it, so he just patted the back of Dare's hand every so often, hoping that he somehow realized that Jace was there to support him. He owed Dare his success—his entire livelihood.
None of the guys knew how Dare had helped him become a part of Sinners. It had been Dare who had arranged Jace's audition with the band. Dare who had talked Trey into having the Sinners' original bassist, Jon, fired for drug abuse. Dare who had invented that bullshit story about Jace being considered as a replacement for Logan—Exodus End's bassist. Logan had never considered quitting Exodus End. It had been a setup. Dare claimed to have intervened because it was best for his little brother's band. The dude had a strong protective instinct when it came to Trey. Jace wondered if Trey realized how much his older brother cared about him, and how it would feel to have someone love you that much.
"I'm about to crash," Eric said. "When is Brian supposed to get here and give us a break?"
"In a few hours," Jace said.
"You can go, Eric," Dare said. "You've done enough for him."
Eric smiled and then jumped to his feet. "I'm not pussing out now. Who needs coffee?"
"Yeah," Dare said absently.
"I'll take a cup," Jace said. He expected Eric to twist his words into a barb, but he headed out of the room to find another dose of caffeine. Jace decided Eric must be completely exhausted if he'd given up on wisecracks.
"I didn't talk to him about Brian," Dare said.
Jace looked at him in question. "What about Brian?"
"I should have talked to him. I should have checked on him to make sure he was okay."
Another thing Jace completely understood. A case of the "should haves." I should have ridden the bus to school that day. I should have pushed Kara away. I should have never climbed out that window. I should have never been born.
"I should have talked him into going to the doctor sooner," Dare said.
"We tried to talk him into going to the doctor, Dare," Jace said.
"But he listens to me." Dare stroked his eyebrow with his middle finger. "Sometimes."
"We should have insisted. We knew he was hurt," Jace said.
More should haves.
Eric returned with three Styrofoam cups between his long fingers. "What are you two grumbling about?" He handed a cup to Dare and then one to Jace, before taking a sip from his own.
"We should have gotten Trey help sooner," Dare said.
"Well, we didn't. Now we have to deal with the consequences. No sense in beating yourself up over things you can't change. You have to make the best of the current situation," Eric said.
"The current situation blows," Dare said.
Jace patted Dare's hand again. He understood. He still beat himself up over things he couldn't change years after they occurred. He couldn't imagine ever letting that guilt go.