Isn’t that presumptuous of him?
He can’t possibly believe he can fix me.
But I go to him anyway, and I let him draw me into an embrace. His arms are warm and sturdy, and the cologne masks some of the blood that fills my nostrils.
Why the fuck can’t I be normal and enjoy this?
Every other person on campus must be so jealous of how I get these three perfect, amazing men, and all I can think about is how the walls may or may not be bleeding.
Asch sits close to me. He kisses my cheek, then cups my cheeks inhis hands so he can look me over. “How are you physically?” he asks, rephrasing his earlier question in a way that doesn’t sound half as stupid.
“My face hurts,” I admit.
No black bile this time. That’s a good sign, maybe.
Blaze kisses the back of my neck. “Her nose isn’t broken. I checked. Her hands are fine too.”
I clench my hand in demonstration. The pain from having it stomped on is mostly gone. Either that, or the pain of everything else is that much worse.
Uncle Slayer used to joke that if you’ve got a headache, you can simply cut your head off to make it better.
Mama didn’t think that was funny, but Papa always laughed.
River steps into the room, his expression still thunderous. “At least there’s that,” he says, coming over to stand beside the bed. “Still doesn’t make me hate this any less.”
“Nothing is going to make any of us hate this any less,” Asch remarks, thumbs stroking my cheeks. His skin is so, so warm.
“We should’ve killed her,” River mutters.
“But where would you have stashed her head?” I ask with a laugh. “Be practical, River.”
I don’t think Bobbi would go down as easily as Zayden.
“I’m sure we could’ve found a place,” River retorts.
Asch kisses my forehead. “Either way, we let her go, and it’s not like getting the upper hand on her again is going to be easy. As long as we all hold up our ends of the bargain, it’ll be fine.”
“She’s not the biggest problem, anyway.” Blaze wraps his arms around my waist. “But I really don’t want to think about my dad right now.”
Yeah, thinking about parents while in bed is a big no from me, too.
I lean back against Blaze. My eyes go up to the ceiling.
It’s a simple, blank white.
Is it over?
My hands look clean, too. Why shouldn’t they be, since Blaze carefully washed them for me?
He’d washed my face, too, and kissed me gently.
Like he thought I was breaking.
No.
That isn’t me.
I’m not broken.
