I kick and punch, but there are three of them, and Seth is out for the count, clutching his leg, his face white like paper.
Whatever happens to me, I need to draw them away from him. This is about me, and it’s perfectly clear in my mind that, if one of us has to die tonight, it has to be me.
Another blow catches me in the side, and I hiss at the burning pain. Grabbing my assailant’s bat, I drag him away from Seth. Pulling the bat toward me, I kick him in the shin, and as his grip loosens, I take the bat and swing at the other two.
One of them is Simon—huge, pissed and with a gun sticking out of his belt.
It’s ridiculous. I’m outnumbered, Simon wants my hide, and my only chance is to lead them to the main street where others might see them and help me. My only saving grace is that Simon doesn’t seem intent on putting a bullet through me. He wants to play, wants to see me rolling in pain, crawling and begging.
“Come on, Simon,” I goad him. “Come get me.”
He works his jaw, hefts the bat. “You little shit. You thought you could betray me? Report me? Thought I wouldn’t know?”
Yeah, he’s pissed all right.
“I was never loyal to you in the first place, motherfucker.” I spit at him, saliva and blood. I think one of my teeth is loose. “You think you can beat up whoever stands in your way? Fuck you.”
He says nothing, moving in—for the kill, I think, and I swing the bat as I back away, toward the main street. At least they’ve left Seth alone. Simon’s beef is with me.
Good.
Block, parry—with a fucking bat, dammit, never imagined how heavy the motherfuckers could be—and I’m damn glad for those self-defense lessons Rafe gives us every week at the gym. Only, I have two thugs battering down on me, and the third guy…
Dammit, where is the third guy?
I lift my bat to block more blows, arms rapidly growing heavy, as I try to spot him. I manage to protect my side from yet another incoming, sidestep a kick—
A blow on the head from behind drops me like a stone. I hit the ground hard once again. I think I see people heading toward us and yell for help, but I’m not even sure I make it as darkness swirls in my eyes.
Oh fuck, is the last thing that goes through my mind, and then it’s quiet.
***
Stench of chemicals and air so cold and dry it strips all moisture from your eyes.
Fucking joy.
Yeah, I hate hospitals. Although I’ve only ever been here for the tests I had, to make sure I haven’t caught any nasty disease from my previous lifestyle, I hate them.
Lifestyle. That’s what the doc called it when he ordered the tests. Made it sound like a choice. Like an option.
“How’s Seth?” I ask for the hundredth time, and I’m again ignored. “Is his leg broken?”
“The doctor will be right with you in a second,” the nurse reassures me.
As if that’s what I’ve been asking her. The hell.
“Look, I’m fine. I just wanna check on my friend, okay?”
“Please stay here until the doctor arrives to examine you.” She gives me a stern look and goes away, closing the door behind her.
The fuck I will. I get up, slightly dizzy but well enough to walk, thank you very much. An arm wrapped around my ribs, my lower back burning like fire, aches blooming in every part of my body, I make my slow way out of the small room.
Need to find Seth. A ball of dread has settled in my gut. I’m afraid they aren’t telling me what the fuck’s wrong with him.
Because of me. He’s in here because of me.
Fucking hell.
I find another nurse on the way. She seems startled to see me wandering about, and she says something to that end, but I cut her off.
“I’m fine. I need to find Seth. Seth Tucker. I’m family.”
She opens her mouth to say something, seems to think better of it, and leads the way. She opens a door and hesitates. “Seth Tucker… he’s been admitted here before, a few months back. Another beating. You say you’re family. Is it someone in the house who’s beating you boys up?”
I’m touched by her concern. Her hazel eyes are kind.
“No, I say, it’s just—”
“Bad luck,” Seth says from inside the room, and I push the door open all the way. “Motherfucker, I’ve been asking and asking about you and nobody would fucking tell me where you were.”
The nurse departs, saying something about the doctor, and I take in Seth’s state.
Well, apart from the new cast on his leg, he doesn’t seem too bad for wear. Of course, that cast is a big thing. Hard to miss.
“Broken, huh?” I sink on the bed, bone-weary. “Shit.”
“Told you I got shit for luck.” He shoots me a crooked grin. “Not your fault.”
Yeah, right.
Goddammit. Seth is still recovering from the beating he got from Ev’s psychotic ex-boyfriend, and now this.
“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so damn sorry.”
“Shut up, J. I said it’s not your fault. In fact, I’m glad to see you alive. I swear I thought they’d kill you, and I couldn’t even move.” He winces as he shifts on the bed, and I remember the thugs kicking him and beating him with the bats. “We need to change lifestyle, buddy. Somewhere tropical with palm trees and cocktails would do in a pinch.”
Lifestyle. That word again. I reach up to rub the back of my head and everything hurts. My side, my arm, my head. Ow, the back of my head is killing me. I can feel a lump there. My jaw hurts like a bitch, and I bet I have a black eye from the blow.
Christ. That was close. A shiver travels through me, and I do my best to hide it, gripping the edge of the narrow hospital bed.
“I need to talk to the police.”
***
The doctor proclaims me well enough to leave, filling out a prescription of strong painkillers and instructions to return if I experience double vision or nausea. A policeman—detective? Not sure—comes by to take our statement, and he leaves thoughtful after I explain to him my history with Simon and his position in the street hierarchy.
Before he leaves, though, he assures me Simon is going to jail, and will go on trial, and that’s good. It’s all I need to know right now.
Because I have just found out, by chance, that Mel is here, too. Mel Carter, the owner of the taco joint. My friend.
He had a heart attack soon after I left work. Not a very bad one, and it looks like he’s gonna be okay. His family’s here. His niece is apparently living in Madison, and she was listed as next of kin. She’s sitting by his side right now, and he’s smiling at her, partly proud, partly wistful. One hundred percent pleased.
And also pale. Sickly. So different, and yet the same guy who offered me food and a temporary shelter in bad times.
I’ve been peeking in from the half-open door. I don’t want to interrupt, and I don’t want him seeing me like this, limping, covered in scrapes and bruises.
Don’t want to intrude. He’s finally gotten back what he longed for: His family. His niece is telling him her father is on his way. They’ll reconcile. He’ll be with them.
I guess he’ll move back to the farm. Close down the taco joint. He won’t need me around anymore. Yeah, so I’m really happy for him. Fucking glad.
Doesn’t make it any easier, though. I walk away, wandering blindly through the hospital, through brightly lit passages and halls, not knowing where I’m going and not giving a damn.
Chapter Twenty One
Amber
Armed with the lion pendant that I’ve wrapped up in red paper, dressed in an old, white and yellow summer dress that flatters my curves—or so Kayla told me—I stand outside Jesse’s apartment. According to my meticulous calculations, he should be back from working at the café by now.
I’m aware I’m taking a risk. He could be out. But Ev did say he doesn’t go out much these days. Or nights. Whatever.