He stumbles back to bed, mumbling incoherently, and leaving me in a daze.
I drag myself to the bathroom, my head throbbing. I lock the door behind me and let myself slide to the floor. The cold tiles against my skin offer a slight relief from the pain, but the weight of the night presses heavily on my chest. I take a deep, shaky breath before I whisper to myself.
“Only two more years.”
TWENTY
While sittingat my desk in Sophia’s lab, I fold my hands and rest my chin on them. Then take a moment to stare at the mug she gave me today. It reads,Spill the tea, sis.
It’s like Sophia has an endless supply of these dorky things.
She’s in the office next door, chit-chatting about a case with a coworker, and I’m here, convinced that the universe is out to get me.
For the second time in no time at all, Clay and Josh have seen me at my worst. They know where I live, watched me searching for dollar bills, figured out my little sister is shit at sneaking out, and now they’ve met Roberto.
I swear, I would have disappeared into the ground last night if I could.
If it weren’t for them, Roberto would be behind bars. Del Moro didn’t give a fuck about my pleas. He would have loved every second of it.
And now, to top it all off, I’m supposed to thank Josh and Clay for what they did. There’s no way the incident can be forgotten. My luck isn’t that good.
I groan, shifting my head to rest my forehead on my hands, my eyes shut tight. I mumble under my breath, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” while lightly thumping my head on my knuckles.
Just as I’m about to let my head drop again, a hand intercepts, palm up.
“Knock it off. You’re gonna hurt yourself,” Josh warns, coming out of nowhere, startling me. I recoil while staring at him with wide eyes. “It can’t be that bad, can it?” he asks, a grin on his face. But then, his gaze shifts to my temple.
It hurt like hell for a few hours last night, but now it’s just swollen. It doesn’t look as bad as it did this morning since I managed to cover the redness with makeup, but there was no hiding the lump.
“What happened?” Josh asks, stepping closer and gently lifting my chin with his finger.
His touch catches me off guard, making my stomach tingle, and I let him lean in to take a closer look before regaining my senses and leaning back out of his reach.
“It’s nothing.” I brush it off.
“That sure as fuck doesn’t look like ‘nothing,’” Clay chimes in from the other side of my desk.
Damn, I didn’t even notice him there.
“Did your uncle do this?” Josh asks, studying my face.
I don’t want to lie, so I tell him, “He hit me while falling, flailing his arms. It’s not as bad as it looks.” My tone grows colder with each word.
“Yeah, about that,” Clay starts, but Josh holds up a finger to stop him.
“Do you need to see a doctor, Carolina? It looks bad,” he asks.
I roll my eyes. “No, I don’t.”
“She’s fine. It’s just a minor bruise, right? Nothing important, no big deal,” Clay says, his tone carrying a challenge, gaze narrowing at me.
“Oh, I’m sure you’d know if it wasn’t, seeing as you seem to have a vast medical knowledge,” I retort.
He huffs. “Now you’re overestimating me.”
“Well, it’s hard to underestimate you,” I say.
“Yep, you’re okay.” Josh chuckles.
