His jaw clenches and he checks his mirrors as he speeds away. "I'm taking you to the hospital."
"No, you fucking aren't," I tell him and reach into my pocket to pull out my phone.
Miller glances over, his gaze wild and unlike him. "Why are you wearing your clothes from Friday?"
"Why does it matter?" I scoff. "And how do you even know what I was wearing Friday. Are you following me?"
How else could he have found out where I was? It's either that or one of the guys told him. They both swore to me that they wouldn't, but am I a fool for trusting them?
"No," Miller says unconvincingly.
"I'm not going to the hospital," I say again. "You think he doesn't have men everywhere? You pissed him off! You fuckingshothim."
He looks over at me, this time doing a double take. "Put your seatbelt on."
"I can't." I keep my arm at my side.
"Cora."
"She's not lying," London speaks up from the back seat. "I think her shoulder is dislocated." She presses the spot on her head where she was bleeding and checks her fingers for fresh blood.
"Somebody had better start talking." Miller accelerates around a few cars and runs through an intersection at three times the speed limit.
"Take me to Silver's," is all I say. I thumb through on my phone until I find his number and hit the dial button. Surely, he'll know what to do, about my shoulder, about this entire situation.
The line goes to voicemail and a tinge of disappointment hits me.
"That's where you were last night." Miller's tone is more factual than accusatory.
"How do you know where I was last night?" I ask him and wince as he hits a bump in the road, a spike of pain shooting up my arm.
Miller doesn't answer me. He actually doesn't say anything. Not for the next few minutes it takes to get across town to Silver's place. I'm not even convinced that's where he's taking us until we pull onto a familiar street.
I glare at the side of his head, the perfectness of his chiseled jaw and baby-blue eyes pissing me off more than they should. He can't help it he's good-looking, but he can help that he's keeping things from me.
But the second I allow that anger to set in, my stupid fucking conscience reminds me that I'm doing the same damn thing. I've been harboring the biggest secret of them all, but it impacts no one but myself, so the justification seems prevalent.
"Come on," I tell them and slip out of the car toward Silver's apartment complex. I don't bother turning around because I'm completely certain they have no choice but to follow me.
I punch in the code at the door that Silver had given me and enter the gated area, walking straight to his front door and using the other code there.
Noise carries from inside his apartment and without thinking about it, I snatch the gun out of Miller's hand and aim it at the bedroom.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Miller loudly whispers.
"Shh." I step closer to the bedroom, all fucking James Bond-like, and realize I must look like a complete fool. I think I'm being sly, but with my slack arm at my side and the thumping of my heart, sly is the last of what I am. Still, I advance before Miller can get the gun from me.
"Cora," he says as I disappear into the bedroom. He's on my heels a second later, not giving me a chance to fully confront who's in the bathroom alone.
But just as I'm about to point the gun at whoever is in the bathroom, a gun trains on me from the other side of the door.
Silver being the one who's attached to it. He sighs and his shoulders relax for a slight second before he points the gun at Miller.
"Whoa, buddy." Miller throws his arms up. "It's me."
Silver nods to the gun still in my hand. "Who gave you a gun, Angel?"
"Oh shit, sorry." I lower the thing and give it back to Miller. "It's his. I thought there was an intruder."
