Tank’s jaw is clenched so hard a vein bulges at his temple.
“Let’s move,” Spike says hoarsely from behind him. “No more time in this place.”
I tighten my hold on Eli…because suddenly, I’m terrified to blink. Terrified that if I close my eyes, I’ll lose him too.
His body shudders against mine.
“I know, baby,” I whisper against Eli’s hair as I start toward the stairs. “I know. I’m getting you out. We’re going home.”
His fingers twitch, grabbing a tight hold of my cut.
And that tiny, familiar movement…that’s what keeps me breathing as we climb out of hell.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Eli
It’s been three days, and I’m finally going home.
No permanent damage was done to me, the doctors said. No nerve damage. No airway compromise. No infection. Just blood loss. Enough that I spent the last few days getting topped off like some kind of human Capri Sun until they were confident I wouldn’t keel over the second I stood up.
The cut on my forehead was superficial. A bandage. Some ointment. That was it.
They even managed to get the duct tape off my face without doing too much damage.
The damage mostly being my hair. They had to cut it off.
I don’t mind, though. I was in need of a haircut, anyway. Just hadn’t had the time or money to get one these past few months.
My throat, however…That’s where the stitches sit. Several of them.
They told me the cut wasn’t deep enough to kill me.
But it could have…slowly and quietly…If my blood hadn’t clotted the way it did.
I reach up and touch the bandage at my neck, my breath catching. Even now…days later…I still feel Knuckles' hand at my throat.
He saved my life even in his death.
“Ready, baby?”
Skip’s voice is soft. Almost like he’s afraid anything louder will shatter me.
I open my eyes and look at him.
Am I ready?
To leave the hospital and walk straight into a funeral home and say goodbye to the man who used every last breath to protect me?
No.
But…I nod.
Because Skip needs me to try. Because Knuckles deserves that much.
Skip steps closer and holds out his hand. I take it. My fingers are trembling, but he doesn’t mention it. He just squeezes gently and leans down to kiss my temple.
“Let’s go, pretty boy,” he whispers. “We’ll get through this day together.”
