The truth was, I was hurt because it was all a lie.
My entire life had been a lie.
Bruce was never my father, only an acting participant in my life because he loved my mom—not me. Never me. Probably the same reason why he blamed me for her death. Most likely why he never took the time to understand me. He never cared. Since my mom had died, all I became was baggage. A fucking obligation.
The lead tip broke while writing out the last sentence, and I threw the pencil against the cement wall before leaning back into the chair. My gaze landed on the clock above the door to read that it was almost midnight.
I slipped out of my hoodie and sweatpants, and threw myself over the mattress.
Pain ripped through the skin of my back. I cried out and jerked my body against the bed, trying to get up, but the pain only sliced deeper, driving my screams. The one foot hanging off the bed couldn’t find traction to the floor and my arms stayed pinned at my side as the burn in my back expanded with every sudden movement.
Afraid to move any further, I laid frozen as my screams turned into soft moans and tears fell from the corners of my eyes, unsure of what was happening to me. As long as I didn’t move, I would be okay. I had to lay still.
Ethan barged into my room and rushed to my side with wild eyes. “Jett? What’s wrong?”
Uttering a single word grew to be a challenge when all I could think about was the pain, and all I could do was let my silent tears flow freely.
“You’re scaring me. Talk to me!” Ethan demanded again, his hands gripping my shoulders.
When I didn’t speak, he pulled me up, and another scream clawed up my throat.
“What in the hell?” Ethan asked, examining my back. As quickly and carefully as he could, he picked me up off the mattress and carried me through the dark halls of Dolor to the nurse’s station. His lips landed on my forehead as he tried to console my cries the entire way.
“Ethan,” I tried to get out. “What’s in my back?”
Ethan ignored my question as he muttered threats and curses under his breath. “I swear I’m going to kill whoever did this.” He kicked the door open and laid me over my stomach in the first available bed as his footsteps frantically sounded all over the marble floor. “Rhonda!” The jarring pain simmered as if it lived inside me, and I laid as still as possible as I bit my cheeks to fight it off. Ethan’s face appeared before me again. “Rhonda isn’t working. What do you want me to do?”
“Make it stop!” I cried out. “Whatever it is, get it out of me!”
Ethan’s face fell before he left my side. A series of bangs and shuffling sounded around me, and then he returned to my side with tweezers in his hand. Ethan pulled a chair next to the bed and took a seat. “It’s glass. This is going to hurt.”
My eyes went wide, and the second he removed the first piece of jagged glass from my hip, my eyes clamped shut as I screamed.
After Ethan removed the bigger pieces, he peeled my tank top from my back, taking smaller bits along with it. He tossed my blood-soaked top in the trash before he got started on the smaller pieces, which took hours through the night. At one point, I passed out from the pain.
“This is from lightbulbs,” Ethan muttered to himself as he plucked small pieces from my shoulders, disposing of the contents in a nearby tray. The large fluorescents were turned off, leaving a spotlight over the place on my skin he was working on. He said he needed to see the glare from the glass, and it was better this way. “I think that’s the last of it. I’m going to clean up the blood.”
Still in shock and unable to speak, I only nodded.
A few moments later, Ethan returned with a wet towel. Starting at the nape of my neck, he patted the towel over my back, my bottom and down the backs of my thighs. Once finished, Ethan ran his hands over my back. “Tell me if you feel anything still in there.”
His warm, callused hands smothered the harsh cold of the room as I laid naked face down on the bed. I shook my head as he reluctantly ran his hands over my lower back and hips. “Here?”
“No.”
“Go on and check the rest of yourself.”
I reached behind me and swiped my bottom and the back of my thigh. Aside from the soreness and the multitude of cuts my fingers ran across, I didn’t feel any more glass. I pulled myself up and sat at the edge of the bed before Ethan. “Thank you.”
He dropped his head and took in a deep breath. We were both exhausted.
“I should’ve rang a bus had you seen by a doctor. Bloody hell, Jett, I should’ve rang the police, but it’s too late now.” Ethan lifted his head and met my gaze. “You can’t tell anyone I did that for you. I’ll lose my job.”
“I won’t say anything.”
“But I’m going to find out who did this.”
“Thank you.”
