We all look at him as we dine on the sad meal I made. I’d kill for some fresh beef and buttered bread right now.
“It was just me and my dad growing up,” Derek says. “We had a three-bedroom house on the outskirts of Detroit.”
“You grew up in Detroit?” Bryce asks, surprised.
“For a while. We moved to Denver before I started high school so I could get into a good football program. But that house on Stanton Avenue is the one I think of as my childhood home. I played with all the neighborhood kids in the street out front all day every summer, till it got dark. Our house was pretty plain, just a white ranch. My bedroom walls were covered with football posters.” He smiles at the memory. “And there was this giant painting of a bald eagle in our living room. Dad was so proud of that damn picture.”
He turns to Kenna, who’s next to him. “What about you?”
She smiles at him. “I grew up in Skokie, Illinois. It’s near Chicago. My mom was a hair stylist, and my dad was a history teacher.”
It’s the first time I’ve seen Kenna be a normal person, without a chip on her shoulder or a sharp comment. She continues.
“We had an old two-story house downtown. I shared a room with my sister Carrie. I loved purple and she loved orange, so it was always a battle how to decorate.”
“Do your parents still live there?” I ask her.
“They do. I don’t think they’ll ever give up that house. They don’t really go upstairs much since all the kids moved out.”
“You have other siblings?” I ask.
“Another sister and two brothers.”
“Wow,” Bryce says, “one of five, huh?”
Kenna smiles. “Yep. You learn to stand up for yourself when you come from a big family. Whether it’s for your turn in the bathroom or the last pancake on Saturday morning.”
“I’m one of five too,” Matias says. “All boys. We moved around a lot when I was a kid, but the place I remember best was a second-story apartment in…” He furrows his brow. “I can’t remember where that was. That’s weird.”
Brain fog is a side effect of chronic kidney disease, I read in the medical book earlier. I don’t know if Matias knows that, though.
“What do you remember about it?” I ask him.
He shakes his head and grins. “Sharing a room with all my brothers. The room had two double beds, so we’d always fight over who was going to be in the one with three of us. And my mom’s cooking. She made dinner every night, and I can remember her dividing the food up onto seven plates before we ate. She learned not to let five boys make their own plates, or somebody wouldn’t be eating.”
He looks so weak. It’s hard to see him like this, his eyes misty and his expression wistful. Clearly, he wants his mom right now, and who can blame him? It’s all I can do not to walk over and hug him.
“You?” Matias looks at Bryce.
“I was one of three kids,” Bryce says. “The only boy. Grew up near Phoenix. We had a little three-bedroom place with no air conditioning, and I remember sweating my ass off in summers. Playing lots of baseball too. I was raised by a single mom. She worked two jobs, so she wasn’t home much.”
“Did you guys do some of the cooking?” Derek asks him. “I know I did, when Dad was working late.”
“Oh yeah.” Bryce smiles at the memory. “I could make a box of mac and cheese with my eyes closed. Tuna sandwiches. Those canned Chinese food meals that came in two different cans. And of course, ramen.”
“I would have starved to death in college without ramen,” Kenna says.
“Chicken flavor was my favorite,” Bryce says.
He turns to me, and I set my fork down, taking a drink of my water before speaking. I hope no one pries too deep, because my childhood is a touchy subject for me.
“I grew up on my aunt and uncle’s farm,” I say. “Morrison Farms, it’s not far from here. I was so lucky. We got to ride horses, fish, climb trees, pick our own apples. They have a two-story farmhouse. And we also run a grocery store, so I’d work there a lot, starting when I was pretty young. I’d sweep the floor, wipe down the counters. I loved anything that made me feel like part of the farm and the store.”
“And you still work there?” Bryce asks. “Or do you just do the climbing tours?”
“I do the payroll, invoicing, and other bookkeeping for the farm. That includes the whole thing, even the store. I lead climbs on weekends and time off.”
Matias’s eyes are sliding closed. I meet Derek’s gaze across the table, feeling a warmth pass between us for a couple seconds before he says, “I’ve got cleanup tonight since you cooked for me. Thanks for that, by the way.”
“Matias, are you up for a movie?” I ask. “We can move you to the couch and get you comfy.”
Even his smile is weak. “I’d be out in five minutes. I think I better go back to bed.”
I stand up. “I’ll walk you in there.”
Matias slowly stands, his gaze on Derek. “Hey man, don’t forget my next water.”
Derek turns to face him. “Promise. I’ll wake you up to drink it if you’re asleep.”
When we get to the bunk room, Matias sinks onto his lower-level mattress, and I cover him with a couple bath towels.
“I’m really glad…” He stops to yawn. “I mean, if I had to be stuck down here, I’m glad it’s with nice people. I wouldn’t want to go through kidney failure alone.”
“You’ll never be alone,” I promise him. “Get some rest, and let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Erin.”
I’m able to hold back the tears until I’m out of the room. But then, they slide down my cheeks. It’s brutal, seeing Matias’s body failing him. Just like he wants his mom, I feel a longing for my aunt and uncle.
I want to hug them both and thank them for every time they sat up with me when I was sick. I know they’d listen as I cried and told them how unfair it is that Matias is so sick. Even at twenty-six years old, they’re so important to me. Knowing they probably think I’m dead makes me heartsick.
I curl up on a corner of the leather sectional, thinking of them. A few minutes later, Derek sits down next to me. He seems to know I don’t feel like talking. But even sitting with him in silence makes me feel better. His presence is warm and strong and soothing.
Like Matias, I don’t want to be alone.
Chapter Ten
Derek
Erin’s looking at me across the chessboard, her brow furrowed in that way that tells me she’s thinking about something.
“What?” I ask her.
“You’re starting to look like Tom Hanks in Castaway.”
A note of amused laughter comes from my chest. “Most days I feel like him, too.”
“Does the beard feel scratchy?”
“Nope. I kinda like it. One of my retirement dreams is to grow a mountain man beard and go on long hunting trips all over the world.”
She gives me a skeptical look. “You mean a goal.”
“I do?”
“Dreams are for people who don’t know if they’ll have the means to do what they want. But there’s no reason why you can’t do what you want.”
I concede the point. “That’s mostly true. But you never know. I could be taking care of my dad in his old age by then.”
“Or raising your brood of eleven children.” She arches a brow.
“Eleven, huh?” I cringe.
“Yeah. If you marry a twentysomething when you’re in your fifties, she’ll want to have a bunch of kids. You’ll still be changing diapers when you die of old age.”
I give her a bemused look. “So many assumptions in there.”
“I’m trapped in a doomsday bunker,” she says with a shrug. “Assuming is my pastime.”
“In that case,” I say, moving my knight, “we can assume that you could end up with a brood of eleven yourself.”
She shakes her head emphatically. “That’ll never happen.”
“You never know.”
>
She tentatively moves her rook, and I immediately capture it. “Checkmate.”
“Damn it,” she says under her breath.
“Play again?” I ask.
She glares at me. “Because 67-0 isn’t good enough for you?”
“We can play checkers.”
“Ugh, no. Fine, I’ll play you again.”
We’ve been down here for more than a month now. Somewhere between five and six weeks. I still think about football a lot, but it seems so far away now, like memories from another life.
I’ve found that acceptance is the key to staying mentally strong down here. Getting down over things I can’t control accomplishes nothing and stresses me out.
Having a routine helps. We all take turns sitting with Matias during the day, and when it’s not my turn, I work out, clean, read books, and spend time with Erin.
Being with her is my favorite way to pass the time down here. I don’t know exactly what it is I feel for her. I try to put my finger on it, but I never can.
Even though I’m very attracted to her, I don’t feel an urge to fuck her brains out, like I have with other women. I love talking to her because she challenges me. And the more I find out about her, the more I want to know. I fucking live for the occasional touch that passes between us—her palm on my back, me brushing a lock of hair away from her face as we’re walking.
When I fuck a woman, that’s it. It’s over. And I don’t want things to be over with Erin.
We’ve just gotten the board set up when Kenna walks out of the bunk room to the dining table. It’s her turn to sit with Matias.
“He’s asking for his water,” she tells me.
I look down at my watch. “It’s not time. He’s gotta wait forty more minutes.”
She rolls her eyes. “I told him you’d bring it in when it’s time, but he wanted me to come ask you anyway.”
I hear a soft, sympathetic hum from Erin.
“I’ll go talk to him,” she says, getting up.
“I’ll fill in for you.” Kenna slides into Erin’s chair and smiles at me.
I sigh heavily and sit back in my seat. We all agreed it was best for one person to be in charge of Matias’s water rationing, and that I was the best choice because I don’t feel bad saying no when Matias is crazy thirsty. Too much water could kill him right now. But Erin hates to see him wanting for something that would be so easy to give him.
“You don’t even know how to play chess,” I say to Kenna.
“So, teach me.” The suggestive note in her tone makes me cringe inwardly.
“I’m gonna go see if I can help with Matias,” I say.
“How much help could she need? He’s fine. I mean, he’s not gonna die in the next hour or anything.”
“Jesus, Kenna,” I say sharply. “Keep your fucking voice down.”
She rolls her eyes again and gets up from the table in a huff. As long as she goes away, I don’t give a shit if she’s mad.
I go into the bathroom, find a washcloth, and wet it. When I walk into the bunk room with it, Erin is standing over Matias, brushing the hair back from his forehead. Even though I know Matias is sick and she thinks of him as a brother, I feel a momentary stab of jealousy over seeing her touch him so tenderly.
“Water?” Matias eyes me hopefully.
“Not yet, man.”
He closes his eyes. “Maybe I should just chug a gallon of water and get it over with.”
“Stop talking like that.” Erin lowers her brows.
“I’ve got no shot at making it out of here,” he croaks. “It’s just a matter of waiting for my organs to fail.”
A few seconds of sad silence pass. Erin looks at me, her eyes pleading with me to say something. Anything.
“Let’s try this,” I say, walking to Matias’s bedside. “I’m gonna squeeze a few drops of water into your mouth and then wet your lips.”
He nods slightly. “Okay.”
His lips and tongue look parched. It’s so hard to find that line between enough water to keep him alive and too much for his body to process without taxing his kidneys. I use the washcloth to give him just a bit of water, and his body seems to relax a little.
“I’m so tired,” he whispers.
Erin leans her upper arm against mine, and I instinctively put my arm around her shoulder. She softens against me.
“Just rest,” I tell Matias.
He looks up at me, his dark brown eyes swimming with emotion. “I need to talk to you guys about something while I still have the energy to do it.”
“What is it?” I ask.
He looks at Erin before he starts talking. “I know this isn’t something any of us want to talk about, but…I need to. Is there anything in this place that can help me die faster if it comes to that?”
“Matias, no,” she says in a rush. “You can’t think like that.”
The corners of his lips tug upward. “You’re my biggest cheerleader, and that means a lot. But I have to. I don’t want to suffer.” He turns to look at me. “Will you help me?”
My blood runs cold as I consider his question. I know he’s going to die, but I never considered having to kill him to ease his suffering. And there’s no question—I’m the only one down here who could do it.
“You’re not there yet,” I say. “Not even close.”
“I know. But when I am.”
Erin buries her face against my chest. I wrap my other arm around her and put a hand in her hair, holding her close.
“Hey,” I say softly. “Why don’t you go take a breather? I’ve got this.”
She nods and sniffles. I know she doesn’t want Matias to see her break down, but I also know she can’t be here for this conversation without breaking down.
When she closes the door behind her, I pull up a chair beside Matias’s bed and sit down.
“Yeah, I’ve got stuff in here that I can use if the time comes.”
He lets out a soft exhale. “Poison?”
I lean my elbows on my knees and meet his gaze. “Guns.”
“Oh.” He considers for a second, tears welling in his eyes. “Damn, I’m relieved to hear you say that. I was so afraid…” His voice is shaking so hard, he stops talking.
“Listen, man.” I reach out and cover his hand with mine. “We can’t even consider that unless things get really, really bad. If that happens, I won’t let you suffer. But I’m not gonna do it just because you ask me to. If I do it, I need to be at peace with it too. I need to know…”
“I get it.” He reaches up to wipe away a tear. “And I’m glad you’re the one who…you know.” He chuckles softly. “Man, that’d be an epic ending to a story I’d never get to tell. That time Derek Heaton shot me in his doomsday bunker.”
I hang my head, not able to laugh at the joke. “We’re gonna hope for the best, okay?”
“Yeah.” His eyes drift closed. “I think I’ll sleep till my next water. Don’t forget.”
“I won’t. I’ll even put an ice cube in it.”
“Fuck yeah,” he mumbles.
I leave the room, pulling the door closed behind me. Erin is leaning against a counter in the kitchen. She sees me and starts walking toward me. I walk her way at the same time, and as we get closer, I can see the tears staining her cheeks. When we meet, I put my arms around her in a fierce embrace.
“This is so hard,” she says so softly I barely hear her, my chest muffling her words.
“It’s gonna be okay,” I tell her.
“I don’t know how to do this.”
“One day at a time. You’re not alone in this.”
I keep holding her close, my arms locked around her. One of her palms rubs gently across my back. I don’t want this moment to end. Even though it’s intense and sad, my chest feels achy and full in a way that’s not bad.
Erin needed comfort, and she wanted it from me. Never mind that her choices are limited, she came to me. It’s my arms around her right now.
Kenna walks past us with
a scoff. “Ugh, get a room.”
Erin pulls back and brushes her palms over her cheeks to dry them. “I’m okay.”
“Well, I’m not,” I admit in a low tone.
She takes my hand and squeezes it. “Thank you, Derek. I’m sorry I couldn’t—”
“It’s okay.” I squeeze her hand back. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just wanted you to know…it’s hard for me too.”
She nods and releases my hand, and I immediately miss the warmth of her.
“Back to chess?” she asks.
“Yeah. Want me to make some popcorn?”
She smiles and says yes, and we settle back into our daily routine. Things are a little softer now, though—and a lot more sober. Erin’s not up for bantering.
And that’s okay, because I’m really not either. After that heavy conversation with Matias, I just want to be alone with my thoughts. It feels good to be close to Erin, though.
That’s a new thing I need to spend some time thinking about too. I’ve never wanted to be with a woman like this. Close, but not fucking.
Maybe it’s because we’re trapped down here. What else could it be?
Whatever the reason, I need to be near Erin. And I can’t help wondering if she might be feeling the same way about me.
I fucking hope so.
Chapter Eleven
Erin
Derek glances to the side, giving me a quick grin as I pass him. Every completed lap around the track gives me a sense of satisfaction. I’m running out all my anxieties about being trapped down here—and all my fears about Matias.
“I get first shower,” I say to Derek as I approach him the next lap around.
“Orrrrr…we could save water and share,” he suggests.
I can only manage a single note of laughter since I’m breathless. “I’m sure you’d have no…idea what to do…with a sweaty woman,” I pant between breaths, running in place.
“Oh, you’d be pleasantly surprised.”
His deep, confident tone stirs something inside me. Something that feels warm, delicious…beautifully reckless.
But I can’t go there with Derek. He wouldn’t have given me a second look if we weren’t trapped down here. And I refuse to be the woman he chooses just because his options are limited.
Buried Page 6