The guard was shouting in a heartbeat. Somewhere an alarm went off, loud and shrill. Tatum got a hand around my throat and squeezed. My vision went spotty in seconds. Laken shot out at a dead run and slammed his heel into Tatum’s face. I choked and gasped for air as Tatum shoved me to the ground. There was more shouting and more guards surrounded us. I couldn’t keep track of the feet circling. There was shifting on top of me like Tatum was trying to shove people off. His weight made it hard to drag in a breath, even when his grip on my neck faltered. My head swam as Laken clasped both of my hands and dragged me out from under Tatum. I kicked my legs, and between the two of us, he hauled me far enough away that Tatum couldn’t reach me, though with four guards and another heading out the door, he was already pretty busy.
“You want your walker?”
“Fuck yes,” I wheezed and rubbed at my neck. Tatum’s eyes bugged when his gaze met mine, and he bellowed an animalistic sound as he fought to try to drag himself to me. Horror bit at me as he moved a foot across the ground in my direction, but someone stepped in front of him and blocked him from my view. Laken helped me up while the guards were still struggling with Tatum.
I almost fell down again, and only Laken’s sturdy arms around my middle kept it from happening. My head reeled.
“Concussion,” I grumbled. His sad eyes had me chuckling.
“How do you know?”
“Used to fight.” My voice was wrecked, and I wheezed out a laugh. “Know what it feels like. Help me. I’ll take that trip to the medical wing now.”
He winced and let me put my arm around his shoulders. The guards were too busy with Tatum to yell at me and Laken for touching, but once I was inside, someone pointed at us as they ran past to get to the chaos outside, and I had to drag my sorry carcass to the medical wing on my own or risk getting us both in trouble. It was a long, slow journey, and Laken eventually ran ahead and came back with Dr. Bond and a wheelchair.
Dr. Bond shook his head at me and I couldn’t miss the worry there. “That cheek looks like it might need stitches.” He reached out and grazed his fingers under my right eye and pain exploded in a line that followed his touch. I sucked in a breath, and it finally registered that warmth was dripping from my chin. Nothing seemed real right now.
Dr. Bond took me into the medical room and parked the chair near one of the beds that reminded me of an ER, and a nurse came over to me. She smiled and leaned in to stare too close to my face. Dr. Bond came back with a plastic box I recognized—a stitches kit—and dragged a stool over while she wiped at my cheek with a pad soaked in alcohol that burned like fire across my cheekbone.
“Concussion, too,” I said. “Not a bad one, but it’s there.”
“Why am I not surprised you know what that feels like?” he asked offhandedly, shaking his head.
“I need Orlov.”
Dr. Bond didn’t bat an eye. “He’ll be around, asking what happened. He’s good about following up.”
“No, this isn’t about my fucking busted face.” I gently pushed away the hand of the nurse, and it felt good not to have her scowling at me for being too rough. I’d spent so long chasing off the people trying to help me. I didn’t deserve her care. I didn’t deserve Laken’s admiration, or Drew’s… well, his love, not with all this shit hanging over me.
My heart beat faster, and I dreaded this, but at the same time… I felt free. “What I have to say is about something bigger.” As the words left my mouth, I panicked. If this went wrong, I’d lose my chance with Drew. I’d never see Angel again, not that I had a great shot at that now. I’d be in jail forever.
But in the end, if that happened, oh well. Tatum Black belonged on death row, not here in Trident Falls with boys like Laken. “I know things about Tatum Black the authorities would be interested in. He spent about six months… um.” Humiliation burned through me and tears stung my eyes. I stared at the floor instead of Dr. Bond. “I need to talk to someone. They’ll want to know the things I know.”
“Okay,” he said gently and laid a hand on my arm. “Let me help you.”
My eyes stung and real tears rolled down my face. My split cheek burned from the salt. For so long I didn’t feel like I should have anyone’s help. I was Tatum Black’s whore, who’d stood by and never saved anyone, only my own ass—and I didn’t even do that very well. But for Drew? And Laken? And everyone else Tatum was still terrorizing? Yeah, I could maybe do this forthem.
I nodded. “Thank you.”
11
Drew
Dr. Andoh graspedboth ends of the stethoscope looped around his neck. The overhead lights gleamed on his sharp cheekbones and wide, creased forehead, and his white curly hair and eyebrows were almost shocking in contrast to his umber complexion. His smile slid a bit warmer as he shook his head at me.
“I am so leaving.”
“You’re very stubborn, Mr. Greene,” he said, his light accent washing over me and adding a surrealness to the moment. Sweat dripped down from my hairline and stung my eyes. My chest heaved. He’d had me on my feet for less than a minute and I felt like I’d run a marathon. “I say you need to rest longer. You’re healing nicely, a healthy man in his prime, yes, but it’s best to tread carefully. I will not be pleased if you destroy my good work.” The wink he gave me came with a raspy chuckle.
“But, sir, I wanna go. I need to go.” I plucked at my sweaty red T-shirt and unstuck it from my chest with a grimace. “I have things to do.”
Rowdy leaned back in the cheap metal chair he filled next to my hospital bed, causing the poor thing to creak, and scowled at me, but I hesitantly swung my feet to the floor again. I let out a hiss at the cold tiles on my bare soles, and Dr. Andoh snickered at me. I tried to put weight on my injured leg as I rose to stand beside the bed. The nurse had taken out my IV two hours ago and said I’d be able to walk out of here when I left for home, so I wasn’t sure why Rowdy was pulling all sorts of faces while I took a few hesitant steps around the room. My arms stuck out at my sides for balance, and I ended up looking like I was trying for takeoff.
“See, Doc? I’m stiff from all that layin’ around.” I let out a long breath as the pain caught up with me. My knee began to shake on my hurt leg. Was this how Peter always felt? My heart gave a pang. I missed him.
“You’re damned lucky that wasn’t an artery,” Rowdy muttered. “Maybe be grateful and slow the fuck down.” He rested his head back against the clean beige wall, and I felt like he sucked all the air out of the small space with his judgement.
Shrugging, I glanced down at him. “Yeah. It was a close call. I want to go home, though. I’m not staying in this hospital another night.” I glared at him, and he groaned, rubbing his hands over his face.
