Page 36 of Fierce

King Tsin

I’d noticed when Karen had left Hemi and gone to sit on a bench under the rose arbor with her book, but she wasn’t reading now. The book was on the ground, and she was curled on her side in a fetal position with her arm over her head.

She might have been resting, but I somehow knew she wasn’t.

I dropped into a crouch at her side, put a hand on her shoulder, and asked, “Karen? You OK?”

“Just feeling…really sick,” I barely heard. “I’ll be OK. I just need to rest.”

Hemi appeared beside me. “What is it?”

“She’s sick,” I said.

“No,” Karen said. “I just need to…rest a minute. Go away. Please.”

“Honey, no,” I said. “We’re going to take you home.” I looked at Hemi. “I know you don’t want to, but…please. Could you help me get her home?”

“No,” he said.

I gasped, but before I could say anything, Karen was unwinding herself and stumbling past us.

“I’m going to…” She stopped at the trash can, and before I could get there, was grabbing for its edges and being thoroughly sick, and all I could do was hold her and rub her back.

She finished shuddering and retching at last, but was still holding onto the filthy edges of the can, her arms shaking, tears running down her thin cheeks. “Go away,” she moaned. “Please take Hemi away. I’m so embarrassed. Please.”

I didn’t have to take Hemi away, because he’d already turned and walked off. Talking on his phone, and in another minute, he’d be gone. I’d have to get Karen home by myself. Taxi, I realized, and even in the midst of my concern for my sister, the fury and disappointment were rising. With Hemi, and with myself.

I was pulling out my own phone to call for that taxi when Hemi came over again. But he didn’t say goodbye. Instead, he said to Karen, “Let’s get you to the car.” And while she was still shaking her head, he was lifting her gently into his arms, looking back for me, and saying, “Let’s go.”

“No.”Karen’s voice was frantic. “Put me down. I’m going to…I’m going to…”

Hemi dropped to a knee and held her up as she leaned over and retched into the grass. When she was finished, he picked her up again without a word and set off. I couldn’t imagine how he could carry her all the way to the parking lot, but somehow, he was doing it.

“Have you been feeling sick all day?” I asked Karen, trotting to keep up.

“No,”she said. “It’s just the sun. I can walk. Put me down.”

Hemi didn’t put her down, though, and he didn’t say anything until we were at the parking lot and Charles had the car door open. Then he was sliding Karen into the back seat and telling me, “You sit there with her, and I’ll get in up front.”

“Thank you,” I said, because there was nothing else to say.

But when the car pulled to the curb, it wasn’t at our apartment. It was at an urgent care facility.

“No,” Karen said when Hemi would have lifted her out of the car again. “I can walk.”

“No,” I was saying at the same time. “She’s feeling better. Just give us a ride home, please.”

“What?” Hemi said. “You aren’t going to get her checked out?”

“She’s better,” I said again. “She’s got a bug, or a touch of the sun or something. If she’s still this bad tomorrow, I’ll take her.”

Hemi ignored me, to my fury. He had an arm around Karen, was supporting her inside the building and taking her up to the front desk, talking to the woman there. She was handing him a clipboard, and I was fuming.

When he helped Karen into a chair and gave the clipboard to me with a curt, “Fill that out,” I’d had enough.

I walked a few paces away so Karen wouldn’t hear me before I turned on him. “What part of “no” didn’t you understand?” I hissed. “I asked you to take us home. I didn’t ask you to take us here.”

“Thought you cared about your sister,” Hemi said, keeping his own voice low as well. “She’s ill. She was ill before she went to sit down. She told me she often feels ill in the mornings.”