New rule by Anna Boyd:
You can’t always be that picky. Sometimes you have to use any resource available.
awake when I get back to the room. His face is pale and he looks pissed but I can’t help but smile when I see his eyes are open.
“You’re up!”
I rush to the bed and sit down a little too hard, his face scrunching up in pain the minute I make contact with the bed.
“Sorry. Sorry.”
He struggles to a sitting position and a bead of sweat breaks out across his brow.
“Are you okay?”
He grunts and squirms, until he finally gets in a position where he’s comfortable. “Why are we here, Anna?”
I was expecting the pissed tone but I cringe anyway.
“What else did you expect me to do? That man shot you. He told me that he could find us anywhere. That we would never be able to hide from him. You passed out blocks from the hotel. The last thing you said was don’t call the police. Or an ambulance.” I stand up and pace beside the bed. “We talked about this earlier and decided it wasn’t safe to go to the cops. I didn’t know what else to do. You needed stitches and I knew Thomas could do that. I also knew Thomas may be the only match for Mateo. I didn’t know what to do and was just trying to keep us alive.”
I get up from the bed and walk into the adjoining bathroom to wet a washcloth. Deep breaths, I think. Deep breaths.
I get back to the bed and kneel down beside it. “I can’t handle any of this if we’re fighting. I was so scared. I didn’t know what to do. I don’t trust Thomas—or Tyler—at all, but I can only deal with one threat at a time and Mateo seemed to be the biggest threat in that moment.”
He reaches for my hand. “I don’t want to fight either. My head and arm are killing me and Thomas’s face is not one I liked waking up to.” He pulls me closer with his good arm and kisses me gently. “I just hate that we’re right back in this position.” He tries to lift his left arm but it doesn’t go higher than about an inch. “Especially with this useless arm.”
“Just wait till you hear what she promised him,” Teeny says from the foot of the bed. “Is there food? Because I smell something delicious and I’m about to starve to death.”
Crap. I was hoping she would forget to mention that little bargain I made.
I move away from the bed and grab a po’boy out of the bag, unwrapping it on a side table in the little sitting area on the other side of the room. I need to get Teeny as far away from Ethan as possible. She finishes about half the sandwich before I get the top off the gravy container.
“What bargain?”
“Are you hungry?” I ask, completely ignoring his question.
“What bargain?” he asks again.
“I told Thomas I would go along with whatever he needed if he would help you. Here, take a bite, you need to eat.”
He drops his head back and lets out a string of curses.
“She also promised that it would be just her helping, not us, too,” Teeny calls from across the room.
Thanks, Teeny.
Ethan pushes the sandwich away but I bring it right back in.
“Look, if we’re going to survive this, I can’t have you weak from hunger. Eat.”
Begrudgingly, he takes a few gravy-dipped bites then pushes the food away again. I hand him some water and he downs the bottle.
“You’re not doing it,” he says. “No matter what he wants, you’re just not. I don’t care what you promised him. And as soon as I can get out of this bed, we’re gonna figure out how to get out of here. What time is it?”
“When I was in the kitchen, the clock on the oven said seven thirty.”
“Shit. Will got here hours ago.”
