Chapter 3: Theo
Idon’tknowwhatto think.
It’s fucking outrageous to see a girl that pretty with red cheeks, watery eyes, and looking like she hasn’t slept all night, and still so fucking edible.
God damn.
I keep my eyes forward, disgusted with the fact that she’s crying over Cody. He doesn’t deserve a single tear shed.
Soon.
Soon she’ll know.
Nessa cried like that once. Same red cheeks. Same shaking hands. Same stupid fucking belief that love meant safety.
I cut the corner and grin. A folded-in girl on the chair, shoulders trembling like something snapped inside of her, and those curious eyes. Tear-stained. Shaken. Small.
It shouldn’t entice me.
She shouldn’t somehow still be polished, dressed in fucking bright red pajamas with cherries on them.
My knuckles throb hard enough that I want to slam them into the wall, but I don’t. I flex my hand three times. Open. Close. Open. Close. Open. Close. Pain is data. Data means control. The ache tells me that if I hit something again, I’ll do more damage than I can afford. I need to save this rage for what’s coming because if something follows, then I’ll burn this entire fucking city down.
I take the elevator up, jaw tight, and the technician barely glances up from his screen when I walk in.
“Name?”
“Theo Rhodes.”
He looks at the form, then at my arm in the sling. “Mechanism of injury?”
“Hockey.” It drops out flat.
“Position?”
“Defense.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
“Right this way.” He gestures behind him, bored but not rude.
I stand where the tech tells me to. The pain pulses when he removes the sling. The slightest pressure makes every tendon in my arm pull tight. He positions my body and then walks off.
“Stay just like that,” he says, stepping behind the shield.
The machine clicks, whirs, and flashes. My jaw locks through every second of it.
“You’ve done this before?” he asks as he checks the monitor.
“More than once.”
He hums. “You guys should get hazard pay.”
“We don’t.”
“Shame.” He tells me to face forward. Another click. Another flash. And then he has me face the wall. “Okay. You’re done. Go back to the waiting room. They’ll call you out shortly.”
