“Fuck you,” Damian mutters through clenched teeth. “When’s the last time you got shot?”
The guy barely looks up, still focused on Damian’s side with efficient, practiced fingers. “You know exactly when it was, asshole.”
I walk closer, trying to make out how badly he’s hurt, but of course I can’t tell anything. Cleaned of blood, the wound looks pretty small.
The man turns his head and smiles at me, all casual and warm despite the literal blood he’s working through. “Hello,” he says. “And who are you?”
“Lo,” I answer hesitantly.
He tilts his head, eyes twinkling a little. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lo. I’m Arden.”
“Don’t flirt with her,” Damian grunts.
Arden blinks, looking almost surprised. Then a slow smile curves his mouth. “But she’s so pretty,” Arden murmurs. “Hard not to flirt.”
Damian scowls, and Arden chuckles under his breath. He dips back down to Damian’s side and begins covering him up with gauze and bandages.
I look away, arms crossing over my chest, trying to ignore the way my heart’s suddenly doing weird things. Damian’s eyes are still locked on me. I can feel them burning, but I can’t bring myself to look back just yet.
The bag is still strapped to my shoulder. It digs into my skin, and I realize I’ve been holding it so tight my fingers are cramping. Actually, it’s more than my fingers that are cramping. My stomach is too. My body feels foreign—too slow, like I’m stuck underwater, everything around me happening a half second before I can catch up.
I blink up at the wall and find a small clock ticking above a cabinet of dog vaccines and syringes. Midnight.
It’s midnight?
I haven’t slept. Not in…I don’t even know how long.
Bridger walks over to me, quietly, his eyes on the bag. I drop the strap off my shoulder and hand it over. “I didn’t want to just leave it in the truck,” I mutter, my mouth too dry, “with a dead guy.”
Bridger makes a face, already opening the bag to peek inside. “What’d you think the dead guy was going to do with it?”
The jab is meant to be a joke, but it turns my stomach more. I don’t laugh. I feel sick. Actually sick. My stomach rolls. My dress is ruined and I can still see Damian’s blood on my hands and under my fingernails. The tips of my hair are coated in it.
I’m thousands of miles from home.
And I don’t belong with these people. This isn’t my world. The money might be back where it belongs. But I’m not. And then it hits me—harder than any of it has all night. Even if the money is where it belongs, even if Damian somehow doesn’t still hate me for what my father did,I still have to go back.
Back to New Jersey and the bakery.
Back to Vick, if he’s still alive.
Back to deal with Joel and Taylor. They know where I live. They’ll never let me go. Joel will kill me eventually. Or worse, they’ll keep pulling me in to play, again and again, until there’s nothing left of me. The thought slams into me like a freight train. My throat clenches. I turn away fast, spot a dented silver trash can near the exam table, and yank the lid off.
I barely make it in time. Everything comes up. Fruit Roll-Up. Sushi. Champagne. Fear. It hits hard and fast. My body folds in on itself until I’m done, gagging on nothing.
No one says anything. Neve moves like she might come closer, but I shake my head. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, then slide down the wall until my ass hits the floor. And I sit there, knees drawn in, chest tight, pulse thudding in my ears, wishing I could just disappear.
Chapter Thirty-Two
DAMIAN
We’re holed up in the vet’s office. Arden’s patched me up enough that I’m not actively bleeding, but every breath still feels like sandpaper in my lungs.
Marlowe hasn’t left my side, not really. She’s sitting on one of the cracked leather chairs, knees drawn up, her head resting against the wall. She’s worn out, barely keeping her eyes open, but she’s too stubborn to sleep.
Arden’s been pacing around the office, cleaning up, mumbling to himself about how much I owe him. Bridger’s whispering with Neve, trying to get the whole story of how they managed to get out of the card game. I still can’t believe she won more than what Vick stole.
Arden finally stops moving and says, “I’m heading outside. There’s a vending machine a few shops away. You guys need anything?”
