The tension cracks a fraction as a woman with dark curls outstretched a hand for me. I take it, standing. They each take turns introducing themselves to me. There’s Charlotte, Quinn, and Kourtney added to the mix of faces. Charlotte is the woman with dark curls and bright blue eyes. She’s quiet, but warm as she speaks in a soft tone. Quinn has silver hair with overgrown dark roots and heavy bags under her eyes. Kourtney is the oldest with long, pin-straight brown hair. She’s the most outspoken among the group as Cara and Bridget linger behind the crowd. Cara’s expression is twisted with remorse, while Bridget doesn’t seem like she’s present as she stares above everyone’s heads.
Light conversation fills the room before Silver makes a decree that everyone should return to bed. As the last few people trickle out, Luna sighs deeply before she buries her face in her hands.
“I can go—”
“Don’t,” She whispers. “Please.”
I’m transported back in time to the night I woke up at Charlie’s house, curled up on her lap. The comfort she gave me in that moment meant the world to me. It showed me that there was still good out there—something worth hanging on to.
As I cut the lights and Luna lies down on the bed, I want to be that comfort to her. I slide in beside her, covering us with the duvet before I rest my hand between us. I don’t have to speak for her to know what I’m offering.
As the seconds trickle into minutes, she finally reaches across and takes my hand. I squeeze her tight, praying that my protectors have figured out what’s happened and will save us all from what awaits us tomorrow.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Rosalie
I’m awoken by a shrill scream. It jolts me upright as I blink the sleep away rapidly. There’s a commotion outside the closed bedroom door, and Luna flies up. She grabs the door’s handle before charging headfirst into the hall.
I follow behind her, tossing the covers aside as my anxiety revs. It’s early morning, the sun barely peaking past the velvet curtains of the room, as I walk into a horror scene. Holden, the ring leader, and another man I haven’t met are dragging Cara by her arms down the hall. This new man is wide and muscled. He has a death grip on the screaming woman’s bicep as he hauls her towards the steps.
“No!” Cara begs. “Don’t make me go!”
The other women have come out of their rooms; some are shaken, with their fingers lifted to their lips. Others look like they’re ready for a fight as they shoot the men death glares.
Luna stomps towards her cousin with murderous intent as she jabs her hands at her chest. “Holden! Take me!”
Bridget steps into the hallway, serving as a barrier to the others behind her. “Or me! Anyone but Cara.”
Holden sneers at his cousin, his lips twisting unpleasantly. “Go back to your room, Luna. A client requested her.”
The blonde doesn’t back down as she closes in on him. “You can’t put her through that again! Please, Holden—”
His open palm cracks across her face, causing her head to shoot to the side. Everyone goes silent, and my hand lifts in Luna’s direction. There’s a beat where she blinks back her tears before rolling her shoulders, and she glances back at hercousin. “Please, Holden.”
The man bends over her, showing that he’s much bigger. He’s trying to intimidate her as his lips pull over his teeth. “Go.To your.Room. Before I get Sal to put you back in your place.”
Cara screams, the sound blood-curdling and morbid, as the man handling her lifts her into his arms. She reaches over his shoulder towards us, desperation in her wide eyes, but there’s nothing we can do. An unsettling weight blankets the hallway as we watch the man drag her out of sight.
“Does anyone else have something to say?” Holden glances between us. When no one answers, he nods. “Thought so.”
“Prick,” Luna mumbles.
He whips around to her, his elbow cocking back before he punches her nose harshly. She falls to the floor on her ass, her hand shooting up as blood begins to trickle down her chin.
“Sal will be by for a visit later,” Holden nurses his wrist as he flexes it. “It’s about time someone put you in your place for fucking good.”
He leaves us, and the moment he reaches the bottom of the stairs, I drop down to my knees beside Luna. I grab her wrists, removing her hands to see the damage. It doesn’t look broken, but there’s blood gushing all down the front of her shirt.
Silver squats on her other side, a paper towel in her hands as she lifts it to the blonde’s nose. “Tilt your head back.”
Luna closes her eyes against the pain as she complies, and we try to stop the bleeding. Heaviness blankets over us as the blonde stands.
My insulin pump pings, and I lift my hand to my arm as the sounds around me tunnel.
Shit.
I hadn’t even thought of running out of insulin. I changed my reservoir two days ago.
