The ghost of a smile pulls at Alexis’s lips. “I have a concussion, you dumbass. It’s not that easy.”
“You’re not that easy.”
“Your mom’s not that easy.”
“And she’s back,” Levi mutters. “Has anyone spoken to a nurse yet? Or are we blindly trusting the sleepy, achy mummy?”
I shake my head no and watch as Alissa does the same. With a sigh, Levi disappears into the hallway to find someone who can give us more information. Alissa clutches her twin’s hand like it’s a tether, a silent plea to be alright. How terrifying this must be for her, seeing Alexis like this. Their bond is one I will never fully be able to understand, though I’m glad they have each other to call on in moments like these.
I squeeze Alissa’s shoulder in support as I make my way toward the hallway, giving them a moment of privacy while I hunt down a few more chairs and some coffee to pull us through the night.
Strong. I need to be strong. For Alexis, but also her siblings. Alissa is a wreck. Even Levi, though we’re still at odds, could use a shoulder to lean on. So in an empty room on the other side of the hall, far enough not to be heard by any of them, I allow myself a few minutes of weakness.
The tears come hard and fast, one thing circling my mind over and over and over like a broken record.
I could have lost her.
Chapter 34
Alexis
I’m notsure who told the rest of the hockey team about what happened, but the second Blake’s car stops in front of the house they rush through the front door.
With their tall and broad bodies, they form a protective wall around the path, shielding me as if they were my own sexy secret service.
It’s such a kind gesture that for a moment it takes me aback, and tears brim my eyes as I look anywhere but at them. I try to open my mouth and express my gratitude, but nothing comes. Instead, I run for the door and up the stairs, not stopping until I’m in the safe haven of Blake’s bedroom.
Because I know Blake’s teammates would never hurt me. They are frighteningly loyal to my brother and know both he and Blake would kill them if they touched me. But Hudson was on that team too, once. And they are just as tall and broad and intimidating as he is.
So while I would love to go down the line and give each of them a big hug, I can’t. Not now, now without flashing back to last night.
My inner child is crying, and for once there is nothing I can do to comfort her, to show her this is temporary and things will be okay. Because while this might fade with time, this world will never truly be safe for us.
Evil will always be lurking in the shadows, and whether we escape it or not it will never go away. So instead of trying to comfort her with words we both know are lies, I turn to her favorite method of dealing with heavy emotions: hiding.
It’s not the healthiest, or the most mature, but as far as bad coping mechanisms go it is by far the least destructive option. I crawl over to Blake’s closet, toss out his stinky shoes and curl up in the void. Lucky comes to press his head in my lap in silent support, and that little gesture is enough to shatter me.
Loud, painful sobs tear through me, and for once I let them. I am all alone, anyway. I could wipe my tears, use makeup as a shield and pretend I’m fine like I have done for the past year. But what good would that do?
No. I’m done pretending. Pretending to be okay, to not be angry—no,fumingat the school board for letting Hudson stay. That it took everything that happened last night for the cops to take me seriously. That I had to recount every detail from the past year to the cops twice this morning because they sent in an uncaring rookie first. But I’m also done pretending to be strong, that my pain is mild and manageable and my bone-deep exhaustion is just a bit of fatigue.
I am done pretending I’m anything that I’m not.
But most of all, I’m justdone.
There’s a commotion downstairs and I hear loud footsteps in the hall, but no one comes. The noise fades as quickly as it came, leaving me in the quiet misery of my sobs.
I don’t know how long I sit like that, sobbing all alone in a tiny dark closet. It could be minutes, hours. Time is a concept Ihave lost all understanding of, and I cannot bring myself to care either.
At some point, the tears dry up.
The numbness makes me fidgety, having me pace the floor with Lucky at my heels. He stays at my side when I head to the bathroom to freshen up, the house is empty save for a shadow at the front door and a soft rummaging in the kitchen. Still, I don’t dare shower.
Amid the silence I find Blake at the stove, stirring a pot with clenched fists, clearly seething. But his muscles unclench the moment he sees me, and his face softens.
“Hey,” he says, leaning down to pet Lucky. “I didn’t expect you down so soon. How are you feeling?”
We both know I feel like shit, so I skip his question to save us both a lie. “Where did everyone go?”
