“Yeah?” My hands curl into fists in my lap, nails biting deep into my palms like maybe if I bleed for it, it’ll be enough, and the pain will be penance for something I didn’t even do. “Well, it’s not my fucking problem if you’d rather believe everybody else than me. Just because there are rumors doesn’t make them true. Do you really think your preciousPetitwould hang out with me if he believed I was a rapist?”
This just proves that I could scream until my throat tears open, and it still wouldn’t make a difference, not unless someonewantsto believe me.
And Luc?
Luc never wanted to.
His brow furrows like he’s considering it. “Then where are those rumors coming from?”
The fight leaves me then, too, and I just give him the truth, voice flat. “I have no idea why she said it. Crews thinks maybe Raine wanted me gone. I don’t know. I’ve stopped pretending to understand any of it.”
“She was your girlfriend,” Luc counters, like thatprovessomething.
“Exactly,” I bite out, anger boiling over again that quickly. “As if I’d force myself on myown girlfriend!I wouldn’t do that toanyone,but especially not to someone I thought I was in love with.”
My breath is just as ragged as Luc’s is now, and I try to calm down and find the thread of reason, but it’s gone. There’s no reasoning with him. Maybe there never was. But it seems some part of me wants to be heard, so I keep going.
“I needed you just as much as you needed me to bring my best game, maybe more, but I would haveneverbelieved something like that about you without talking to you first. Withoutasking.”
That’s the part that’s been killing me.
He never asked me whether the rumors were true. He just started hating me like everyone else.
And I never thought he was like anyone else until then.
Luc scans my face, but then he turns away again, fixing his eyes back on the road.
We drive the last stretch in tense silence, and my stomach clenches when we pull into the parking lot. Our clothes drip and shoes squelch as we jog to the hospital doors. As soon as we’re inside, Luc steps up to the reception desk and launches into rapid-fire French. I don’t understand shit, only catching him sayingAllen Crews,and my stomach twists all over again.
The receptionist frowns down at the papers in front of her, lips moving around words I don’t understand, then finally says, “Oui,Crews,” followed by more in French that might as well be static.
Bambi.
Something is stirring in my ribs again, the feeling close to that of butterflies being drowned in worry, and I should probably figure out what the hell thatmeans,but not now. Not yet.
Not until I know he’s okay.
Luc turns to me. “Petit’s already here. She said we should go to the waiting room.”
That’s not good enough.
I shoulder past Luc to the receptionist. “How is he?”
She glances up, brows furrowing before she answers in broken English. “I cannot tell you. Please wait with family.”
Luc doesn’t give me a chance to lose my shit. “Comeon,” he mutters, grabbing my arm and steering me away. “I know my way around here.”
“You’ve been here before?”
Luc shrugs and releases my arm as we walk. “I was a regular guest here all my childhood.”
“Falling off your bike?”
He grins. “Bikes, trees, houses.”
“Houses?”
Luc just winks, and goddammit, my heart stutters like the idiot it is.
