“What’s our play at the hospital?” Omar asks as I palpate for broken bones and check Samuel’s breath sounds.
Omar knows as well as I do that this could get dangerous for us pretty quickly if he decides to talk.
Samuel’s eyes track mine.
“We might have to leave him in the emergency entrance.”
He grabs my arm. “Please don’t leave me.”
“Kid, you’ve got a broken nose and a massive lac on your face. You need a plastic surgeon to look at it so you don’t have a horrible scar for the rest of your life.”
“My dad is well-known here. Word’ll get around, and I’m not going to risk my life over a scar and a broken nose.”
Yeah, I’m going to need more information on this asshole dad of his and why it’s a risk to get medical treatment.
“You could have a broken rib, which could lead to a punctured lung. You could have internal bleeding.”
“No, they kept it to my face.”
Omar’s lips thin, but his expression softens a little. “But if they raped you…”
“Hadn’t gotten to that yet,” he says, bringing his legs up and rolling to face the back of the seat, wrapping his arms around himself. “They wanted me completely empty for whatever it was they were going to do next.”
Feeling a little less bad for choking that one guy, to be honest.
“Then where should we take you, kid? I can’t let you go back to the rest area, that’s for damn sure.”
“Just take me to my school. I know someone who lives on campus—I can maybe bunk with him for the next couple of days.”
Yeah, no.
Omar leans over and whispers in my ear, “Do you think he’d be safe at your parents’ house?”
I take in the scene around us. The dense woods, where they were no doubt going to dump him, the vulnerable young man in the back of Omar’s SUV, the smell of blood in the air, and I know we won’t just leave him with some acquaintance. I nod as he grabs a trash bag and cleanup kit, then makes his way back into the rental.
“Okay. You’re gonna need stitches. Omar will finish the cleanup here, and then we’re going to my parents’ house. I can take care of you there.”
“Take care of me, how?”
“Well, you’re in luck. I’m a surgeon,” I say, removing my jacket and T-shirt.
“Um…what are you doing, man?” he asks, looking uncomfortable. “I’m not exactly—”
I hold up my hands, stopping his train of thought. “I got blood on my shirt.”
“Oh. Well then, nice underwear,” he says, laughing at the candy corn goodness peeking out from my jeans.
I smile but feel incredibly guilty for not convincing him to come with us last night, and even more so when I realize that Omar and I got here later than we would’ve because we spent a little extra time in our bubble at the cabin.
I pull on a new T-shirt as he rests and send a quick text to Ronan.
Anders:Mission accomplished. Meeting back up at my parents’ place. You’ve got the details?
Thane’s Boy Toy:Yep, meet you there later this afternoon.
Thane’s Boy Toy:Have a few more bridges to burn before I meet up with you.
Anders:Sounds like my kind of day.
