You’re killing him. You thought you could save him but you’re killing him.

I groan and bury my face in the side of Aiden’s neck.

“Maybe it’s like hypothermia,” Kitty says then marches out of the bathroom, returning with the frayed complimentary towels. “We need to get him into bed.” She flicks the shower off, her expression determined and businesslike. “Lift him out.”

I want to shout more but the need to do something makes me bite my tongue. I snatch the towel and fumble one-handed to get it around Aiden before lifting him, sopping, to the floor. He still looks horribly corpse-like, blue lips, bruised eyes and fingertips.

“Take your wet things off,” Kitty says, pulling her sweater up over her head.

Her T-shirt stalls me. “What. Is. That?”

She pauses over the waistband of her jeans and straightens up. The T-shirt is a familiar red with blue writing. The slogan reads: Watch yourself! Hastily screen-printed. The same flag format as Angelo’s earlier Not without a mint shirt. Even the font is the same. There’s no flying volleyball on this one, rather a rendition of the comic strip panel’s smoking ashes and pompoms from The Collegiate Times. She produces a brief guilty smile. “Angelo was selling them in the parking lot at school. I tried to tell you.” She lifts the hem. “It’s brushed cotton.”

I gawk at her.

She pulls the shirt up over her head and tugs her jeans down from her hips. “He needs body heat.”

I hesitate.

Stripped to her underwear, she kicks her clothes into the corner and crouches beside him, touching his face. She looks up at me. “Hurry.”

Too uncertain to argue, I bolt into the outer room. Wet elastic snaps and bites, resisting as I yank my underwear off. There’s one towel left. I tuck it tightly around me. Back in the bathroom, I find her fiddling with Aiden’s soaking boxer shorts.

“What?” she says. “We have to get him warm.”

“I’ll do it.”

“Fine,” she mumbles, pink-faced.

“Wait out there.”

I close the door on her and stand there shivering. If I don’t brick my panic behind a thick high wall, I might start screaming. I flick my hands as though I can force the snaking fear from beneath my skin. Aiden. His wet boxers resist, I avert my eyes and fight them off, peeling linoleum digging in my knees.

My head swimming, I get him out into the bedroom and lay him on the bed where Kitty has pulled back the covers. I tuck his damp towel around his hips and turn him on his side. Kitty props his head up on a pillow, her brow creased. I realise I’m glaring and straighten up. Hands on hips, resisting the urge to check my phone for angry messages. “Okay. This is what’s going to happen. You’re in back. I’ll take the front. No funny business.”

She scowls.

I don’t apologise.

The lumpy single mattress wobbles and creaks as Kitty and I move in on either side. Through my towel, Aiden is so cold I grimace. Kitty catches her breath as she presses against him. I pull the quilt over his shoulders, drawing him to me so that his face is buried in my neck. Disturbing notions aside, it’s a relief to feel his breath on my skin – proof of life.

Kitty has trouble finding somewhere to put her arms. The bed dips and wobbles as she balls a pillow under her head so she can peer over the crest of his neck to see me. Even in the dim lamplight I can see she’s blushing. I close my eyes a moment, but it feels like I’m on a merry-go-round, little stars circling behind my eyelids. Please don’t let me black out.

“Hey,” Kitty says, whispering. “You know this would be some guy’s wild fantasy.”

I give her a dead arm.

“Ouch! You can’t do that, you could do permanent damage.”

“I’m-his-sister.”

Seriousness falls back on her, worry pooling in her eyes. “Sorry.”

I don’t answer.

After a few moments she asks, “How long will the drug last?”

“I don’t know … it didn’t hit me like this.”

She sweeps her hand up Aiden’s chest.

“Hey. Boobs here.”

“Just checking his pulse.”

“You better not be enjoying this.”

“Evangeline.” She looks warningly from me to Aiden, as though afraid he might hear. “You could be a bit more grateful.”

“Grateful?”

“You fancy cuddling your brother in bed by yourself? I told you you needed me.”

I’m about to fire up but stop short. “Hey … does he feel warmer?”

“Maybe?” Kitty squeezes Aiden closer, her hand stroking down and resting over his stomach. “Wow, he has very defined muscles.”

I pinch her arm.

“Bloody hell. What?”

“Stop. It.”

“It was an observation.”

“Taking advantage of the unconscious.”

“That’s sick.”

“I remember you flirting with him at the Governor’s office.”

“I didn’t know he was trying to kill me then.”

“Which makes this deeply disturbing.”

“Shhh.” She drops her voice to an airless whisper. “You broke him out of a detention centre on the basis that he’s not like that any more. Are you having second thoughts?”

“You could at least hesitate at the idea of groping your ex-stalker.”

She jerks behind Aiden, rocking the bed, thumping her head back on her pillow. I sigh, tempted by sheer exhaustion to sleep, but worry keeps me at the surface. Worry. Dread. Fear.

A few minutes tick by and I’m sure Aiden is getting warmer. I hear Kitty’s breathing lengthen and deepen. I wonder if she’s falling asleep, but then she whispers, “He smells really good.”

“No.”

“Are you kidding?” Her head pops up.

“He doesn’t smell like anything to me.”

She presses her nose and mouth to the back of his shoulder, inhaling. “Seriously? It’s like–”

“I don’t want to hear about how he smells, for crying out loud. You’re creeping me out.” And making me think about Jamie. I don’t want to think about Jamie while she’s making comments like that about Aiden.

She purses her lips and lays her head down.

A long silence.

“What was it like?” she asks, a cautious whisper.

“What was what like?”

“Breaking him out. Were you scared?”

“Of course I was scared.”

A thoughtful pause.

“I can’t imagine doing anything like that.”

“You don’t want to.”

She hesitates then asks, “Did you have to fight anyone?”

I sigh. “Yes.”

“Did you hurt them?”

“A little.”

She swallows. “If someone tried to hit me, I’d probably burst into tears.”

“Which would make you normal.”

“Ugh.”

I lift my head off my pillow and nearly go cross-eyed with the effort. “What’s ugh?”

“Normal.” She sighs.

“Normal is good.” I resist the urge to pinch her again. “You should be happy.”

“Happy to always be the useless damsel in distress, while you get to save the day?” She shifts in her agitation, pulling on Aiden. “Just once admit that it’s cool not being afraid, all that speed and kung-fu and psychic whatnot, knowing you can take someone down, guys drooling all over your hopped-up DNA.”

“Cool?” I growl, blistering inside. “Cool? Ask me again when I’ve made my first kill.”

She freezes behind Aiden and my stomach sinks.

“I’m sorry,” she says, sounding choked. “That was a stupid thing to–”

“No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” I wiggle my arm free so I can rest my hand on her shoulder. “But I told you already; I get scared. I’m scared all the time and you’re not useless. Didn’t I say you’re the bravest person I know? And you’re here, aren’t you? You’re helping.”

Kitty shrugs, on the verge of tears.

Cursing myself, I lay back down to find wide hazel eyes looking at me.

“Whoa!” I shoot backwards out of bed, hitting the ground with a thump. “He’s awake.” I scramble to my feet, blood rushing from my head, as Kitty tumbles out of bed on the other side.

Aiden’s eyes slide to the towel grown loose around me. I clutch the folds against my body. “You were really cold. We were – we were–” I gesture at Kitty hugging a pillow over her torso.