Mario opens his phone and starts dialing while I turn my attention to Roxie. This mysterious, magical girl that has fallen into my lap and life again. I shake her because I know that she needs to stay awake.
“What, what?” she asks groggily, but seems to be aware of who we are and where we are. “No,” Roxie whines, but I shush her softly.
“Stay awake, baby,” I say softly, shaking her shoulders, but she falls back to sleep with her eyes not focusing and that’s really fucking scary.
“Come on, come on!” Mario says, hitting the back of the chair. I slam the door shut just in time for Mario to peel out of there.
“Asher’s getting stuff ready,” Mario says and throws the phone into the passenger seat, pressing the accelerator harder. “I’m pretty sure he thinks it’s you that’s hurt because he sounded pissed.”
I push the strands of hair off of Roxie’s face and marvel at her. She’s here. With her head on my lap. Exactly like six years ago.
“Who is she?” Mario asks, looking at us in the mirror and I know he wants answers.
I breathe her name in like it’s the first breath of fresh air I’ve had in years.
“Roxie.”
“Who’s she?”
But I don’t answer him, instead I snap at him to driving fucking faster, because how am I meant to explain to him that she’s…everything I’ve been dying without?
CHAPTER 11
I’m dead.
I have to be.
There can be no other reason for why the surface I’m laying on is this comfortable. Last thing I remember is being knocked to the ground by Harry ‘The Heron’–that’s such a dumb fucking name–by a cheap shot, and then the world went black.
There’s no way that Mickey stopped the fight. He’d rather see me die at this point.
There’s an awful lot of pain for this to be death. I thought I’d simply cease to exist, not be forced to feel the shitty parts of life.
I never catch a break.
There’s the sound of someone walking around me and I jolt up, sitting up as quickly as I can.Protect, defend,is my first thought, as it is every time I hear someone stalking around me.
I keep my mouth shut even though moving causes me severe agony and I want to scream it out.
I’ve learned that crying out, whimpering, any of that, will only bring more issues.
My hand comes up to defend myself, but Asher, kind, big brother-like Asher, leans over so I can see it’s him.
“Hey, killer,” he says with a lazy smile. “It’s really good to see you.”
“Asher,” I whisper, “Oh my god.” I lean over to hug him, but I wince in pain.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t if I was you,” he holds his hand out and in the palm of his hand are two white pills.
I freeze.
And shake my headnoslightly.
“They’re just painkillers, Roxie,” he says softly, but based on the look in his eyes I gave too much away. “I promise.”
“I’ve heard that before,” I whisper and shake my head. Goddamn,thatfucking hurts. “I’ll be fine.”
“Don’t be stubborn.”
