Right after he stepped out, Roe and Wyatt came in. Roe took Bram’s seat and put a hand on my knee. “You’re shaking. Are you cold?”
Wyatt took a seat next to me on the couch.
I stared past him toward the door, waiting for the worst. “Who was at the door?”
“Hey.” Roe was gentle as he spoke and grabbed my hand. “It was just Bobby. He’s here to check on you.”
There was a loud thump as if something heavy had bumped into a wall in the hallway. I needed to run. I needed to get out of here. There wasn’t much room between Roe and me. I jumped to my feet and pain shot through me. I whimpered as I nearly doubled over. I caught myself with a hand on Roe’s shoulder.
Both of them reacted quickly. The desk chair went rolling back as Roe stood and his arms went around me. Wyatt’s hands went to my hips before he fully got to his feet. They seemed worried I’d fall.
Roe pulled me close as he stroked the back of my head. “It’s okay, Lottie. You’re safe.”
“Why don’t we get her back to bed?” Wyatt suggested. One of his hands went to my lower back. “Want to watch a movie, beautiful? It might help get your mind off things for a bit so you can relax.”
I nodded. Roe scooped me up and we made our way back to the guest room.
Chapter Five
The loud noisehad been Bram and Bobby rolling an ultrasound machine through the house to the guest room. Bobby had “borrowed” it from a friend. It looked like one you’d see at a doctor’s office. It was big, with a screen, a table of buttons and knobs, and a bunch of cords dangling from it. Bram’s chair next to the bed had been moved so that the machine could go there.
“Couldn’t you ‘borrow’ a portable one from where you work?” Wyatt asked as he eyed the clunky machine.
“Never shit where you eat, kid,” Bobby said, and turned his attention to me as Roe laid me on the bed. “It kept me up all night, worried I’d get a call that you had taken a turn for the worse because you refused to go to the hospital. I’m pretty sure you’re fine now, since it’s been twenty-four hours, but I want to make sure.”
After I took some pain meds, Bobby had me lie flat on my back, which hurt a lot. Then he helped me pull my shirt up to my breasts. “You need to eat more,” Bobby grumbled as he squirted a pile of gel just above my belly button and slid a T-shaped wand-looking thing through it, spreading it all over my abdomen.
I frowned at the ceiling. I was over everyone bringing up my weight.
“Her mother didn’t allow her to eat,” Wyatt said from where he and Roe stood on the other side of the bed.
“Because she wants Lottie to look a certain way,” Roe added.
“I must be perfect. The perfect daughter. The perfect student. The perfect girlfriend,” I numbly droned. “If I’m not, I’ll embarrass her. If I do, I am useless. I’m pathetic. I’m nothing like her. I’m like him. Fucking nothing. Fucking scum. I will never be anything, just like him.” I let out a little scoff. “She said it so many times over the years, I used to think she was talking about the man I thought was my father. Now I’m not so sure which father she was speaking of.”
The silence that followed was enough to grab my attention. I glanced at Roe and Wyatt first, then Bobby, all of whom were staring nervously in Bram’s direction. He was standing by the foot of the bed. His back was to us, and his hands were laced behind his head.
Bobby cleared his throat. “Why don’t you step out for a minute, Bram?”
“If I leave right now, Bobby, I’m going to prison for murder.” The stillness and threat in Bram’s voice made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“You’ve been handling things well so far. Don’t?—”
Bram turned slightly and cut Bobby off with a hard look. “I haven’t begun to handle anything yet.” He stormed out.
“Roe, call your dad and tell him to get his ass over here now,” Bobby ordered.
Roe pulled his phone out of his back pocket and left the room.
I glanced at Wyatt, feeling worried. There were so many questions racing through my head.
Wyatt was staring after Roe.
“Wyatt,” I said, and my unease was apparent even in my hoarse voice.
His attention flicked to me. Whatever I let show made him raise his brows before he climbed onto the bed and sat against the headboard next to me. He ran his fingers through my hair near my temple. “Everything is fine. Bram just needs some air.”
“He’s upset.” I didn’t mean to point out the obvious. I just didn’t know how to voice my concern about the “going to prison for murder” comment. He’d left the room. Did that mean he was going to go murder someone?
