The Young Love Series: Books 1-3 by Kylie Key

Author:Kylie Key
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: Romance, Social Issues, Young Adult, Fiction
Publisher: Kylie Key
Published: 2021-08-15T22:00:00+00:00

EVEN THOUGH MALACHI was comatose, I acted like he wasn't. I was reading a Benji Bear book out loud, comforting myself with familiarity. I knew most of the lines by heart now. Angie, Jill and the white haired doctor came bustling in. Angie gently assisted me out of the chair, whispering that I needed to vacate the room.

Malachi’s father was coming to visit. She made it seem like it was classified information. She guided me out to the reception area, sat me down and hurried back to Malachi's room.

My heart rate accelerated and my thoughts were blurred and confused. If Malachi's father had been permitted to visit, did it mean that death was imminent? Why else would they allow a double murderer, on two life sentences, into a public hospital?

I sat there shaking, my eyes flitting from the elevator to the stairwell. Several hospital security guards arrived and positioned themselves along the corridor, one of them in front of where I was sitting.

I expected Travis Keneally to be in an orange prison jumpsuit, but he was dressed in a light button down shirt and dark pants. His hands were shackled behind his back and his feet were chained together meaning he could only take baby steps. He was flanked by two armed prison officers. I peered from behind the guard as he shuffled towards Malachi's room.

When the door to the room closed the guards dispersed, congregating at the reception counter. Still in a state of shock, I leapt up and scuttled across to Malachi's window. I needed to see what was going on. Malachi's father and the officers had masks on, but they hadn't been made to put on a gown, hat or gloves. Travis Keneally's head was shaved, but the regrowth showed his hairline was receding. He had the web tattoo on his neck and like Malachi's Grandpa, his hands were covered too. It looked like Dr White Hair was explaining the medical situation as Travis's eyes darted around the room. He looked at the vases of flowers that Mom and Jill had brought in, at Malachi's name sign on the wall, at the Benji books that I'd left on the bedside cabinet. I was glad I'd tucked Benji securely under Malachi's arm. Even though he was in a world of his own, on the verge of death, Malachi surprisingly looked peaceful and content.

Travis leaned over the bed and appeared to lose balance. One officer jerked him roughly, making him stand upright. Travis looked down at Malachi, seemingly frustrated that he couldn't touch his son. For a long time he stared at Malachi's unresponsive body and it looked like he was speaking to him. I longed to know what he was saying.

Then, unexpectedly he turned his head and I found myself gazing into the eyes of a killer.

But I didn't see hate, or insanity, or derangement; I saw the eyes of a father swimming in hopelessness, a face that feared the worse.

I quickly ducked my head and slunk away. I went to the stairwell, gingerly walking down a level and sat on a step.

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