Everything’s happening too fast. Nothing makes sense. But the door slams and then...we’re in an elevator.
“This building doesn’t have an elevator,” I slur, and Connor crouches down once the doors slide shut.
“Q, this building has always had an elevator. I didn’t believe you before the accident. Hell, I was on Alec’s side. He said all the right things, and I was positive you were having a breakdown. But I picked up a box of your shit from your old landlord last week, and...”
The doors slide open, and we’re moving again. Outside. Fuck. I can’t be outside.
“It’s dangerous out there, Quint. Up here, you’re safe.”
My breath saws in and out of my chest as Connor wheels me to a black car, opens the door, and lifts me into the front seat.
“Connor…please.” I can’t breathe. “Back…inside.”
“No.” After he fastens my seatbelt, he puts his hands on my shoulders. “In and out, Quinton. Listen to my voice. You’re safe. In. Out. In…out.”
Once I no longer feel like I’m about to pass out, he shuts the door, leaving my wheelchair on the curb.
“But...I need that...” I say when he takes his place behind the wheel.
“You don’t need a fucking thing from that asshole. I’m sorry it took me so long to come for you. But you’re going to be okay now.” Connor guns the engine and after we’ve made three turns and I have no clue where we are, he stops at a red light and glances over at me. “I found your journal, Q. Your landlord called me. When Alec packed up your apartment, he left a bunch of shit behind. Dad’s old pocket watch, that ceramic Christmas tree with the glass lights, and this.” Pulling a small leather notebook from his pocket, he sets it in my lap.
I have to squint to read it, but the handwriting is most definitely mine.
Alec is a classic narcissist. It’s possible he also has Antisocial Personality Disorder. He doesn’t feel emotions like normal people, but he’s great at faking them. He’s using you, and when he’s done with you, he’ll find another victim and leave you with nothing. You have to break it off with him. Tonight.
“Look at the date,” Connor says quietly.
My brain hasn’t worked right since my accident, but the date it happened? I’ll never forget it. And on that page, it’s staring back at me.
“Fuck.” I let my head fall against the seat, panic wrapping a chain around my chest and twisting until I’m not sure my heart’s still beating. “How...?”
“Quinton? Calm down.” My brother reaches across the center console and presses his hand to my heart. “We’re going somewhere Alec won’t ever find you. You’re going to walk again, and we’re going to make sure that fucker goes to jail for a very,verylong time.”
* * *
That somewhere turnedout to be an emergency room in Fort Worth where Connor demanded the doctors run every test under the sun to find out exactly what Alec was giving me.
Eight hours later, he wheels me into an accessible suite at a five-star hotel. I’m exhausted, and I still can’t think straight, but right now, I suspect that’s more from hunger than anything else.
Connor drops down into the chair at the polished wood desk and flips through a binder. “What do you want to eat?”
“Huh?” The question confuses me, even though I know it shouldn’t. But for more than eight months, Alec made all the decisions.
“Quinton?” Connor holds my gaze, the seriousness in his dark blue eyes helping me focus. “You have to be hungry. What do you want for dinner?”
“I…” Panic sets in again. Most of what the doctor told us before they discharged me didn’t make any sense, and I can barely feel my legs after the cortisone shot they gave me. “I don’t…”
“Breathe. Count backwards from ten. Right now.”
My brother was in the army for more than a decade. He knows how to get people to listen to him, and the command in his tone? It snaps me back to reality.
By the time I reach one, my hands have stopped shaking. “S-sorry,” I whisper.
“Don’t apologize.” Connor squeezes my shoulder gently. “Just tell me what you want for dinner.”
“A cheeseburger. And fries. With ketchup.” Alec hated red meat. And ketchup. And anything unhealthy. “And a Coke.” Soda. Another thing I haven’t had in forever.
“You got it.”
