I wasn’t even allowed to escape him in my own mind. By the time he helped me sit up and slid the t-shirt over my head, all I wanted to do was curl up into a ball and die. But the pain in my brutalized wrists denied me the ability to pass out.
Finally, he finished and after a too-long press of his lips to mine, he went to the door to let them in. His awkward movement and clear pain with each step he took made me smile. I wanted him to hurt. I wanted him to hurt bad.
“Have you scheduled a surgery for that knee?” the doctor asked, as two burly men I didn’t recognize converged on the bed. They lifted me out and strapped me to a gurney. They even used velcro to secure my bound wrists. Like I could get away even without the tie-downs.
“Tomorrow,” Uncle Bradley told him. “They expect I’ll need three weeks for recovery. That will be sufficient time for the corrective treatment?”
“Of course,” the doctor assured him. “We will work as quickly as we can, but we want to be thorough.”
“Yes,” Bradley said. “We do. I want my princess back.”
“And you shall have her.”
I almost managed to lift my middle finger in their direction, but a sharp sting in my arm pulled my attention. One of the orderlies pressed the plunger on a syringe. It was really, really full.
What was th—oh. I disconnected from my body as a gauzy haze flowed over the world. The throbbing went away. So did the anxiety. The pain. The loss. It all vanished under the floating fog. As they maneuvered me out of the room, it was almost like flying. I swore I glided down the stairs. The paintings all turned to look at me, some of them even doubled or tripled into multiple duplicates as we passed them.
Shithole Cole was there.
So was tall, dark, and terrifying. He moved alongside the orderlies. I’d forgotten they were there until he spoke to them. But his words barely registered before they vanished again. Had they stuffed my ears full of cotton too?
How rude.
A flash of Lainey appeared out of the corner of my eye and I jerked on the gurney. No, she couldn’t be here. I didn’t want her here. Even as I struggled, I swore I saw Milo reaching for me. Worse—Rome and Freddie were shoving through the people to get to me. Hands pressed me back and something cold was on my arm. It cut through the adrenaline and the fear.
Carved them away until I was moorless. This time when I fell, nothing pulled me back.
EVERYTHING IS BROKEN
FREDDIE
“You know you can talk to me,” Ms. Stephanie said. She had a way of offering an ear that didn’t sound like we were wasting her time or someone was holding a gun to her head. She was good people. All the guys said so.
It was why I couldn’t talk to her.
She didn’t need to know about what happened. Not when she was the kind of lady who believed good things were still possible for rejects like us. Maybe it was selfish, but I needed her to keep believing and if I talked to her—that belief would die.
With a sigh, she left her desk and moved over to where I sat on the floor. I’d been bouncing a ball, sending it over to the opposite wall and catching it. I needed something to do with my hands. Ever since… well ever since, I always had a knife on me, but I kept it away when Ms. Stephanie came to see us.
Saying nothing, she slipped off her shoes and then slid down the wall like an expert. Ladies in suits shouldn’t do that so easily. Crossing one ankle over the other, she caught my ball on the rebound and then sent it back toward the wall. I caught it this time and gave it a little more pep in the throw.
We sat there catching and throwing the ball back and forth. Ms. Stephanie had game, she put a spin on the ball and managed two ricochets. When I made a sound, she chuckled.
“You’re good, Freddie, but I’ve been doing this a long time.” She bumped my shoulder. “Age and wisdom will always overcome youth and skill.”
“Rude,” was my only comment.
Her grin promised she didn’t take any offense. “How is school going?”
“It sucks.”
“Have you thought about the extracurriculars we discussed?”
I shrugged. “Not really.”
She bounced the ball. “Why not?”
“I don’t want to spend any more time at the school than I have to.”
“Are you having trouble there?”
Not anymore. “Nope.” Vaughn and Rome had both been swinging by on a regular basis, as had Jasper. I didn’t want to admit that I needed them to walk me to and from school. Milo hadn’t even asked. He’d just started the first morning I went back to school, and the guys took turns every other day.
“Freddie,” she said, catching the ball. “I need you to give me something. I know pain when I see it. Let me help you.”
She’d been one of the first faces I’d seen when I’d been “entered” into the system. The first real face of kindness that came back. Again and again. I never wanted to see pity in her eyes.
“I’m getting better,” I told her. “I like coming back here after school. Kellan’s been using his shop classes to get a job down at the mechanic’s on Bay and 101st. Sometimes I go there. Vaughn’s been spending more time at the tattoo shop. He’s getting really good at that work.”
Her eyes narrowed. “He’s too young to be doing tattoos on others.”
“He knows that,” I said and hoped my face was a mask of innocence. I’d been getting better at lying. But only about stuff I didn’t care about.
“Uh huh,” she said, but her lips twitched. “Do I need to step in?”
“No,” I said and this time I really did mean it. “It’s fine.”
Another careful look at me then she bounced the ball again. “So, you’re helping Kellan at the mechanic’s and working with Vaughn at the tattoo shop—”
“Not working,” I said holding up two fingers in a Boy Scout salute. At least I hope it was that. It had been a while since we watched that movie and I’d rather stay at school extra hours, then actually join the troop that tried to recruit me one year.
I didn’t do strangers.
Not anymore.
“Right, hanging out with Vaughn,” she corrected herself in that soft voice and I grinned. The best thing about Ms. Stephanie, besides the fact that she genuinely seemed to care, was how she smelled. She always reminded me of a flower garden or a spring day. Just clean and nice and nothing that made my eyes water.
I grinned. “Exactly.”
“What about Milo, Jasper, Rome?”
“Rome doesn’t always want company, but he never complains if I tagalong and I try not to mess with his art.”
“Okay.”
“Milo and Jasper just give me jobs to do.” I tried to make it sound like a chore, but the fact they trusted me at all was a big deal. They were also teaching me how to fight. Probably not something Ms. Stephanie would approve of. “Milo has been helping to tutor me on my math homework too.”
“Still having issues with the numbers?”
I shrugged. “Not so much. He’s just more patient than my teachers.”
“Good.” When I caught the ball and didn’t toss it again, she said, “Would you consider music lessons if I arranged a private tutor?”