“Sh-she told them where I was,” he whispers, his face wet with tears. The words are choked, full of so much desolation and heartbreak that tears spring to my own eyes. I didn’t know it was possible for a heart to break on behalf of someone else, but that’s what his words do to me. They slice through me like a knife cutting through paper.
“Who isshe?” I ask, although I have a sickening feeling in my gut telling me I already know the answer.
“Evelyn.”
Fuck. Some part of me was hoping she wasn’t really that cruel.
He tells me the whole sordid story. How Stoney and some random asshole ganged up on him. How they beat him to near unconsciousness. With each word, he shakes, trembles, and shudders. Finally, I shoosh him and croon sweet nothings into his ear. The story is onlytaxing him, amping up his anxiety and pain. Also, I don’t think I can stomach hearing any more details right now without losing my sanity.
Although it only takes a few minutes for the surrounding area to be lit up by flashing red and blue lights, the time stretches on for an eternity. The ambulance comes barreling into the parking lot, their wailing sirens splitting our eardrums before jerking to a stop nearby. Two EMTs jump out, pushing me out of the way so they can assess Luke.
I swallow back a broken sob, a few stray tears gliding down my cheeks when the jarring motions of being lifted onto the stretcher make Luke scream in agony.
I would give anything for this to be nothing more than a horrible nightmare.
“I’m riding with him,” I demand.
“Sorry, immediate family only,” the brown-haired, male EMT murmurs.
This fucker.
“I’m his…dad.” God, that sounds like such a fucked-up thing to say given the reality of our relationship. But I refuse to be separated from him right now. They might as well cart me out of here in chains, because that’s the only thing capable of keeping me away. The EMT gives me a suspicious glance, his eyes narrowing before jerking his chin toward the open doors of the ambulance.
As I settle on the bench near his head, the EMT quickly administers a dose of pain meds and then we’re off, the sirens wailing into the cool night air. I clutch his uninjured hand the entire ride to the hospital, gently stroking his hair and murmuring into his ear.
I tell him he has to get better because I love him, that he’s the love of my life and seeing him hurt is breaking my heart. That he’s everything I didn’t know I needed. And I may not deserve him, but I’m keepinghim all the same. I tell him if he gets better, I’ll spend the rest of our lives loving and protecting him.
It doesn’t matter that he’s in and out of consciousness, that he doesn’t seem to comprehend my words. I pour my heart out anyway—it belongs to him, after all.
“Stay with me, baby. I need you.”
Alek
“He wants to press charges,” I snap, the words barked out with enough conviction that the spikey, black-haired police officer doesn’t question me. She merely nods, not looking surprised as she jots down some notes. The thing is, I don’t actually know if those are Luke’s intentions or not. Maybe he plans on letting Evelyn get away with this transgression like she has all the others—and those vile men as a result.
I don’t give a shit if she’s his so-called mother. She has taken things one step too far—leaped right off a cliff without looking, actually. Because now she has me to deal with. Luke may be a forgiving person, but I am not. If Luke doesn’t want to press charges, doesn’t want the long arm of the law to do its job, I’ll do it my damn self.
“Why is it taking so goddamn long?” I bark at a passing nurse, mere minutes after the departure of the officer. The petite female in navy-blue scrubs with brown hair to her waist squeaks and jumps back a step before eyeing me warily. “He’s been back there for over an hour, and he needs someone with him, and they won’t let me—”
Caleb’s hands clamp down onto my shoulder, pulling me back and muttering apologies to the nurse, who scurries away.
I release a heavy, pent-up breath. “Sorry,” I murmur, even though she can’t hear me.
“Sit down,” Caleb demands, pushing down on my shoulder until my ass finally meets the worn cushion of the waiting room chair. The bright lights overhead are giving me a throbbing headache, along with the ever-present smell of bleach. A Styrofoam cup of steaming, black coffee is pressed into my shaking hands, and I immediately bring it to my lips.
“Watch out, it’s ho—”
“Damnit!” As soon as the scalding liquid touches my lips, I jerk my hand back. A few drops spill over the side of the cup, and I hiss.
Caleb’s eyes soften as he takes the cup back, placing it on the table in front of us, next to a stack of tabloid magazines. “He’s going to be okay.”
“He shouldn’t have to be here at all,” I counter. Despite his reassurance, I don’t miss the way Caleb bites down on his bottom lip before averting his eyes. He hates public displays of emotions, always has. But that’s his tell—he’s worried for his best friend and struggling not toweep right here in front of everyone. I squeeze his shoulder, knowing it’s the only comfort he’ll allow right now. He gives a grateful little jerk of his chin.
We sit in stilted silence for a few minutes, the overhead speaker occasionally going off. I focus on the sounds around me–the squeak of shoes on the shiny floors, the beeping of machines, the rolling carts being pushed down the hallways, doctors and nurses murmuring as they speed-walk past the door.
Eventually, the noises aren’t enough of a distraction. Darker thoughts begin to creep in. Thoughts about Evelyn, Stoney, and the unnamed fucker who thought they could hurt my love. How good they would look with matching bruises, how satisfying it would be to crack their ribs the way they did to Luke. With a bouncing knee, I clear my throat. “I know where she lives. Stoney is probably there with her, maybe even that other guy.”
Violence isn’t usually my first solution. As a matter of fact, I hate violence. Loathe it, actually, since my father’s fists were the only kind of touch I knew growing up. I’ve always been especially careful with Caleb: soft hands, gentle words, and open arms. But if my words or the vehemence in my tone surprises him, he doesn’t show it.
