Page 6 of Life Or Death

“Don’t,” she whispers.

I let my hand fall and bite the inside of my cheek, giving her a moment to absorb everything I’ve dumped on her. After a few moments of silence pass between us, I continue, “She has a long road ahead of her, one that is going to consist of multiple surgeries and rehabilitation. She needs a support system. You need to get in touch with her family, and you need to do it quickly. Preferably before she goes in for her first surgery.”

Tori shakes her head. “I can’t.”

My eyes narrow. “What do you mean, you can’t?”

I’ve been going out of my mind trying to reach Tori, figuring once I did, she’ll take the reins here, and I can go back to writing checks and lurking in the shadows. “Her phone wasn’t recovered from the bar, but if it’s a matter of getting her parents’ contact information, I can have one of my guys pull an extraction of her phone records.”

She worries her lower lip between her teeth and shakes her head again. My patience teeters.

“You keep shaking your head, but I’m gonna need some fucking words,” I grind out.

“There’s no family to call.” She stares at me blankly for a moment before an exasperated sigh escapes her lips. “You’re not a very good stalker, are you? I met Jess at the women’s shelter. I was a single mom with nowhere to go, and she was a runaway.”

My jaw is locked so tight I can feel the tendons straining in my neck as I stand there, motionless.

A runaway.

The word rattles around inside my skull, and suddenly every piece of information I thought I had about Jess rearranges itself into something uglier, something I wasn’t prepared for.

My mind races through every worst-case scenario. Abuse—physical, emotional, sexual. Neglect. A home that wasn’t a home. A family that wasn’t family. The unknowns pile up like kindling, and something hot and vicious curls in my gut as the protective instinct I’ve felt since I laid eyes on Jess flares.

“Lucifer.” Tori’s voice cuts through the red haze. “Are you listening to me?”

I blink, realizing I’ve been standing here in total silence for God knows how long, my chest heaving, my fists balled, knuckles white. I force my fingers to uncurl, one by one, and meet her eyes.

“I took her under my wing,” Tori continues, her tone losing some of its venom. “When I finally saved enough money working at The Hideaway, I got us out of the shelter and into an apartment. Shortly after that, she started working with me.” She pauses, and I can see the accusation building behind her eyes again. “Then you came along and got her fired. All so you could hire her at the bar to keep tabs on her.”

“I don’t need a fucking history lesson, Tori.”

“What I’m saying is—” Her voice cracks, and for the first time since she walked through those doors, the mask slips. Her eyes glisten, and she presses her lips together hard, like she’s physically holding back whatever wants to spill out. “What I’m saying is, I’m all Jess has. But I don’t know how to be what she needs right now. We never talked about shit like this. I don’t know her wishes or—if she even has any. We never had that conversation.”

Fuck.

She doesn’t know what Jess wants. And I’m just the selfish fuck who’s responsible for her friend’s injuries.

I think about the girl lying in that room—bandaged, unconscious, fighting for a life she built from nothing. A life she clawed out of the wreckage of whatever hell she had escaped. And now she’s back in hell, and no one can ask her what she wants because she can’t fucking answer.

“She doesn’t have medical insurance.”

“I’m aware.”

We haven’t discussed how or if we’re going to rebuild Rodeo Roundup, but if we do, we will provide coverage for everyone on the fucking payroll from now on. If it drains the profits—so be it.

I scrub both hands over my face and exhale through my nose. The anger I’ve been carrying since the explosion shifts, morphing into something heavier. Something I can’t quite name.

My mind wanders back to Jess, but instead of picturing her lying in her hospital bed, I recall the first time I laid eyes on her, and the smile she gave me. I didn’t return it, and that caused hers to slip from her face. The next time she saw me, she didn’t smile. She just stared, and so did I.

I’d give anything for a fucking redo.

Do anything in my power to keep her smiling at me.

A more noble man would continue to cut the checks and disappear to let Tori figure it all out on her own, knowing deep down my presence will bring no good to an already impossible situation. But I’ve never been noble, and I ain’t about to start now.

“We’ll figure it out,” I say.

The words don’t come out as convincing as I intended, yet Tori’s head still snaps up, surprise flickering across her face.