“But my memories contradict each other. In one instance, I’m defending myself. In another, I’m the one getting ready to attack him. What if I?—”
“What the fuck is going on?” Blake’s voice boomed from the doorway. “Axel said something about an exorcism and levitation.”
Behind him, Axel shrugged with a wink. “I saidpossiblelevitation. There’s a difference.”
45
RYKER
“Dude, what the fuck was that?”
Axel’s question hung in the air as he slouched on the couch, a glass of scotch dangling from one hand while Rainbow—Faith’s rescued disaster of a dog—determinedly climbed into his lap. The mutt looked like someone had assembled it from spare parts: one ear up, one ear down, patches of wiry fur that stuck out at impossible angles, and a severe underbite that gave her a permanently confused expression.
“Get off me, you genetic mistake.” Axel tried nudging the dog away, but Rainbow just wagged harder, leaving a trail of drool on his jeans. “Why does this thing hate me so much?”
“Pretty sure that’s love actually.” Love. Right. Like I knew anything about that after what just happened.
I shoved both hands through my hair.
Axel stopped fighting with Rainbow long enough to really look at me. His usual smart-ass expression shifted to something I rarely saw on his face—genuine concern. “That looked like some kind of psychotic breakdown or something.”
I leveled him with a glare.
“Hey.” He raised his hands in surrender, drink sloshing dangerously. Rainbow took the opportunity to fully claim his lap.The dog turned in three circles before settling with a contented grunt. “I’m not saying it to be mean. I’m worried, dude. That shit was …” He shook his head, searching for words. “Fucked up.”
The leather couch creaked as I dropped onto it. The weight of my mistake crushed my chest. “I should’ve known better than to bring her here. What the hell was I thinking?”
“She can’t go back to her place.” Axel absently scratched behind Rainbow’s crooked ear, apparently having surrendered to his fate as the dog’s chosen throne.
“She’ll stay with me.”
Axel’s eyebrows shot toward his hairline so fast, I thought they might achieve liftoff. “Are you sure Blake would be okay with that?”
“I’m not making her stay someplace unsafe. Physically or emotionally. If Blake has a problem with it, he can?—”
“If I have a problem with what?” Blake’s voice cut through the room like a scalpel. He stood in the doorway, the light behind him casting shadows that made him look like death warmed over.
“Is she okay?” I pushed to my feet.
“Physically.” Blake’s jaw tightened on the word. His fingers drummed against his thigh. Never a good sign with him. “Now, if I have a problem with what exactly?”
“And emotionally?” I pressed, ignoring his question. “Should we bring her to a hospital? Get her a therapist or?—”
“I gave her a sedative.” He stepped fully into the room. “Now answer my question. If I have a problem with what?”
I took a breath, tasting the tension in the air like copper pennies. “I don’t think she’s safe at her house.”
“Agreed.”
“But bringing her here was a mistake. The last time she was here was the night of the attack.”
“Fuck.” Blake pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture so familiar that I could’ve predicted it. “She can stay with me.”
“Hold up.” Axel’s drink froze halfway to his mouth, his trademark smirk coming back now that we all knew Faith was okay. “Aren’t you and Tessa currently competing for the world record in enthusiastic marital relations? Because nothing sayshealing environmentlike your sister hearing you two reenact porn scenes through paper-thin walls.”
Blake’s eye twitched. “We have a guest room.”
“On the same floor as your bedroom,” Axel pointed out, clearly enjoying himself now. “With that squeaky bed of yours that sounds like a haunted carnival ride? Yeah, that’ll really help with the PTSD.Don’t worry about your trauma, Faith; just focus on counting how many times the headboard hits the wall.”
