The Last Hour (Thompson Sisters) by Sheehan-Miles, Charles (reading well .txt) 📕

Ray interrupted. “Wait jus’ a damn minute, you don’t talk to her like that.”

My father’s eyes twitched, then looked at Ray with contempt. “This is none of your concern.”

“Dad, please stop.”

“Stop what? Stop being concerned about the welfare of my daughter? No, I will not. Carrie, you’re living with someone who has been accused of murder.”

Ray swayed on his feet, then said, “I think you need to go.”

“This is my home,” my father said.

“Stop it,” I hissed. “Neither Ray nor I are in any condition to discuss this right now. I’ve had just about the worst day of my adult life, and you think you can just show up here and start casting judgment on who I love and how I live my life? We’re done here. I’m going to bed. If you want to discuss it in the morning, I’ll talk, but only if you leave your crappy, judgmental attitude out of it. I called you for help. And this is what I get?”

My mouth felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton. I grabbed Ray’s hand and pulled him toward the bedroom, and said, “Good night, Father.”

“I won’t have you sleeping with him under my roof!” my father called out.

“Fine,” I replied, my tone cold. “We’ll go to a hotel tonight, and pack and move tomorrow.”

“Carrie,” my father said, his voice sounding wounded.

Right. I shook my head. What he was saying was this: I was always the reasonable one ... always the one to take care of everyone else ... always the one who could be persuaded. I was the one he’d rested his hopes on after Julia ran off to manage a band, Alexandra got engaged with a disabled soldier, Sarah went off the deep end and Andrea just ... disappeared to Spain. I took care of all of them, helped them through their heartbreaks, protected them, let them cry on my shoulders…

Well, now I was taking care of me.

I looked away from my father and marched to the bedroom and threw open the closet. My suitcase was on the top shelf. I pulled it down and unzipped it and began randomly throwing clothes inside.

Ray took the hint and opened the other closet.

My father appeared in the door, and his eyes widened.

He looked away, then back again. “All right,” he said. “I ... I’ll go get a hotel. And we’ll have lunch tomorrow.”

I kept packing.

He grimaced and said, “I’m sorry. You’re right.”

My shoulders sagged, and I swayed again. I was still drunk, and I knew Ray was too, and ... it was just too much. The moment my dad left, I collapsed into Ray’s arms, exhausted.

You need to know (Carrie)

“All right. I know you’re worried. But you all need to leave the unit now. Go home and get some sleep.”

I didn’t want to go. Sarah had only been stabilized for an hour.

But the nurse was right about one thing. I needed to get some sleep, desperately. I could barely stand up straight, and when I did, I found myself swaying, dizzy, my eyes not quite focused.

Dylan steadied me, and Alexandra walked with Jessica. Ray’s parents trailed behind us, and we all left the intensive care unit.

I had no idea where to go. There was no way in hell I was going all the way back to the condo. Depending on the traffic, it might be an hour drive back downtown from Bethesda. If something happened, and I was stuck in traffic, I’d never forgive myself.

I was feeling nauseous again. “Dylan, can you check your phone, find out if there’s any hotels right here? I can’t go out to Bethesda.”

Alexandra said, “It’s all taken care of.”

I raised my eyebrows and looked at her curiously. I felt like I was drunk.

 “Julia,” she said. “She reserved a couple of suites at the GW Inn, it’s just a couple of blocks from here. Mom and Dad are on their way from Dulles right now, they’re going to meet us at the hotel.”

I sighed in relief. Not because my parents were going to be here, because that just added to my anxiety. But I desperately needed to lie down for a few hours. And I was terrified to go anywhere far.

“Dylan,” I said as we reached the elevator. “In the morning can you do me a favor? Go out to the condo and get my computer. I don’t ... I’m going to need to call some people tomorrow, and I lost my phone.”

“Sure,” he replied. “Or I can find out where they towed the car, I bet your phone’s in there.”

I sniffed. “That’d be great. I need to let Dick Elmore know about the accident, and a couple other people.”

“Pretty sure Smalls would have told him,” he replied.

And so we all walked the two blocks to the hotel. For a few minutes, Michael Sherman put up half of a fight about finding their own room, not wanting to take charity. I understood ... Ray would have felt the same way. But I grabbed his upper arm and said, “If you’re worried about it, you can pay Julia back later. But right now Ray needs you close by, and cheap hotels aren’t going to be easy to come by anywhere within an hour’s drive. Please?”

Julia had more money than God; in fact, she had more money than our Dad did, and he’d inherited a lot. And while I knew she dropped literally millions of dollars on the charities she was involved in, there was plenty more where that came from. They could afford to buy the hotel we were walking to, and wouldn’t miss however much money Michael was stressed about.

I didn’t want to deal with my parents right now. The last time I saw my father was at Alexandra’s wedding, and we’d been awkward, tense. Prior to that, the last time we really talked was in March, after that awful night when he showed up at the condo by surprise.

We ended up meeting for lunch the