Haunt [Aidan Hunter series book 2] [RE-WRITING]

Chapter 17

Two weeks passed by excruciatingly. Every minute felt like an hour, every hour like a week. Louis made a slow yet steady recovery while his partner was in a coma. The doctors weren't positive about Robert either, saying they were doing the best they can, which never seemed like a good sign. Henry and I spent our days by their side, sleeping on the benches outside the ICU. We'd only leave to grab something to eat, or some coffee, then return. Sleep was a luxury. We were lucky if we got six hours.

We slept at the hospital because going home worried us more. We couldn't leave our friends for a second. The only other person who came often to check up on them was Parker. The chief had visited once or twice, but he couldn't stay too long. Aside from his responsibilities at HQ, seeing two of his officers fighting between life and death like that was unbearable for him to witness.

For us, that pain was multiplied by a thousand. I'd clench my fists involuntarily whenever I thought about how I could've saved my friends, how I could've done more. Robert and Louis were two of the most important people in my life, and I wouldn't flinch from taking a bullet for them.

Henry and I had sunk into a pitiful state. Last I looked in the mirror, my eyes were red, puffy, and stung the more I tried to keep them open. They begged for sleep. My skin had grown dull and my lips chapped. Same with Henry and Parker. Parker's condition hit me the hardest.

With her disheveled hair bound in a messy bun, she spent her time holding Louis' hand and refused to leave his bedside. She barely spoke much. Maybe it was pointless, but I knew we had to take care of ourselves, even if we couldn't care less about it. We couldn't afford to be in this condition if we were ever going to have a chance against Vincent. I convinced Parker to go home, reassuring her that Louis' injuries weren't fatal, and he would be discharged in two days. I wished I could say the same about Robert.

After she left, it was our turn to do the same. We had to go home, even for a while, and get some proper rest. At least try to. I knew Henry would elect to stay back, which was why I had to make sure he didn't.

If not for himself, he'd surely do it for me.

I went to the restroom and cupped my hands under the running tap, splashing water onto my face. I dried it with a couple of paper towels before going back to the hallway where Henry sat on the bench. He rubbed his tired face.

"Hey." I walked to him. "I'm heading home. You need to do the same."

He looked at me out of red, sleep-deprived eyes, his expression slack. "No, I think I'll stay."

"No, you're not. If the situation calls for it, neither of us is in any condition to take on Vincent when we have to. We need rest, even if it's difficult to do it."

He sighed. "I don't think I can go home."

"Neither can I. But we have to try. So should you. This is not up for debate."

"Aidan—"

"Please, Henry. For me."

It worked. His gaze dropped to the ground. "Alright."

"Come on. I'll give you a lift."

"Neither of us are in any state to drive."

"I can manage. Come on."

He stood and followed me. We were too exhausted, too mentally, physically and emotionally drained to be here any longer.

***

The only bit of reserved energy in me allowed me to drive us to Henry's house in East Orchards, a modest blue-grey building with a mahogany door. I pulled over in front of the porch. He unbuckled his seatbelt and got out, walking to the door. I couldn't simply leave without saying anything, so I got out, too.