The door opens, and I see a guy put his arm over her shoulder. I’m panicking, at a loss to know how to stop the situation, and I open my mouth to spill out whatever plea, whatever threat I can think of that might have an effect on her.
Even though I already know it’s useless.
“Lia! Please! Stop! If you don’t turn around… I’ll never fucking forgive you! Lia! I’m going to fucking kill you if you walk into that bar! You know I don’t fucking lie! Turn around, Lia, or you’re dead!”
A fist suddenly appears out of nowhere, making contact with my face, and I careen backward, landing with a thud on the ground.
The last thing I see before the men close in on me is her face as she turns back one more time. In her eyes I read an expression I can’t understand.
Then the kicks and punches start, and before long, I’m blissfully losing consciousness.
6
Logan
Ow. Ow. Ow. Lia…
That last thought overwhelms all the rest, and by the time I’m opening my eyes, the last thing on my mind is the pain wracking my body.
“Where is she?” I hiss. “Where the fuck is she?”
I barely take stock of my surroundings, of the blank beige walls that surround me, of the strange, unfamiliar bed beneath me. I’m far too focused on the memory of that last fleeting glance Lia spared me just before she entered the wolves’ den.
It feels like it’s been burned into my retinas.
But when Damien appears in my field of vision, I have no choice but to push that image to the side.
“How’re you doing, man?”
I try to lift a hand to my face, but I’m aching all over. My body feels like it’s been turned to lead.
“Been better,” I croak. Then a renewed sense of urgency breaks over me, and I try to get up. “Damien.”
But the latter’s hand on my shoulder, in addition to gravity and to my injuries, keeps me down.
“Take it easy. You’ve got a whole lot of broken bones, a concussion, and I don’t even know what else. Just relax, man.This is Vale’s place, and he says we can stay as long as we want. Cool, huh? He’s letting you stay in the bedroom, I’m gonna sleep on the floor, and he’ll take the couch. Obviously, that’s temporary. But let me tell you one thing: you’re never going back to your foster parents, and—”
“Damien!” I grit my teeth with the effort of cutting into his word flow. “Lia’s in the bar. I’ve got to get her out of there!”
Damien’s lips flatten into a grim line. “No one’s in there anymore. So just calm down, okay?”
I swallow the lump that feels like it’s become a permanent part of my throat. “Where is she, then?”
He shrugs. “She left. You’ve been unconscious for nearly twelve hours. I’ve been kind of freaking out, but the doctor said you’d be alright, and I guess you are.”
“What doctor? What the hell are you talking about?”
I try once more to get up, and for the first time, I realize what exactly is preventing me from moving. My arms are both in casts, my chest is bandaged, and so is one of my legs. I’ve turned into a fucking mummy.
“What thefuck?”
“They gave you a pretty good beating,” says Damien, sagging back in his chair. “Want to tell me what that’s about?”
My eyes close as the painful memories come crowding back.
Lia did that. Lia fucking did that.
Fucking snake.