Smooth.
In and out in one quick burst.
I reach for him, but the dickhead with the gun, dissatisfied with his first attempt, whacks the butt of his gun against the back of my head once more.
I stumble against my car; one hand clutching my side, the other my head.
Carmichael is off before I can even consider running after him, my body dropping to the asphalt, eyes falling in and out of focus.
I yell out after them, promising their slow and painful deaths, but the words are nothing but a jumble of gibberish.
Chapter Five
Camryn
“Camryn,” my dad warns and I turn my scowl onto him.
“No,” I argue. “When did our family become so entwined with the Shays?”
Parker clears his throat.
“No disrespect to you, Parker, but your relationship with my sister has absolutely nothing to do with me.”
“Parker is my family, Ryn, which means Rocco is too. And as my sister, I’m asking you to help,” Codi pleads and I hate that she’s playing on my loyalty to her. Can’t she see it’s because of my loyalty to her that I refuse to help?
“Are we all just forgetting that he tried to have Codi killed? That he charged Parker with shooting her. All because he refused to see what was right in front of him. Did I miss the family meeting where it was decided that we’d all just move past this…” I’m yelling. My voice breaking like brittle glass, shards stabbing at our already tender wounds.
My dad clears his throat. “Camryn, sweetheart—”
“Don’t use that voice on me,” I cut him off. “You all may have forgiven him, but I haven’t.”
“The circumstances—”
“I get his pain,” I concede angrily. “I’m not denying him that. But if Kane Shay killed you.” I gesture to my dad standing in his office, the epitome of calm. “Would I have conspired with Codi to take Parker‘s life?”
“Of course not,” Codi argues. “But that’s because we were raised with love. Rocco was molded in hate.”
I sigh. “You’re asking me to do something I don’t want to do. I’ve stitched his face once, that was my good deed.”
“He’s really hurt, Ryn.” Codi’s purple eyes are filled with tears, panic streaked across her features.
“Because he fights for fun,” I contend.
“You’ll have him die because you want to hold a grudge?”
There’s little I hate more than being manipulated. Which is exactly what my sister is doing right now. Playing on my conscience, on an oath I’d taken eagerly.
I step back in shock. “That’s not fair. All I’m saying is that he should go to a hospital.”
“Questions will be asked,” my dad answers.
I laugh sardonically, irritated that they won’t let this go. “Nothing you can’t clear up for him, Father.”
“Watch your tone, Camryn,” he warns, and it’s the first time I’ve ever heard my dad speak to me with such authority, with such demand. “No one is asking you to befriend him, Camryn,” he continues more gently. “All I ask of you is to care for his injury until he’s well enough to go back home.”
I open my mouth to say no, my words catching in my throat as Parker steps forward.
I don’t know if his imposing nature has worn off, the love of my sister quietening the demons that stir within him. Or if I’m just so used to his presence, I can no longer see the darkness.
“You found it in yourself to forgive me,” he speaks quietly. “I’m not askin’ you to do the same for Roc. I’m just asking you to help me save the only family I have left.”
I swallow my animosity.
“He’s all I’ve got left, Ryn. Please.”
My eyes close in defeat.
“Thank you,” he whispers, reading my reluctant acceptance.
“You manipulated me to get your way,” I bite out. “Save your thank you. Where is he?”
“Your old room,” Codi mumbles.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” I storm past her, moving toward the staircase with purpose.
This was the last thing I wanted or needed. Avoiding Rocco Shay has quickly become my number one priority. I don’t want to know him. I don’t want to fall down a hopeless hole of pity because of the life he’s been forced to live. I sure as shit don’t want to understand him or the way his fucking mess of a mind works.
Our similarities have become like a cancer, growing steadily within me. Small moments of accord I felt creeping inside of me last time we spoke, spreading like a wildfire I needed to extinguish. The threat of both destruction and devastation in finding camaraderie with someone like Rocco Shay all too real.
I throw my door open with an exaggerated force of anger. The handle hitting the plaster with a crack that shakes the wall.
Rocco lies on my bed, a towel held weakly against his side. The usual tan of his skin has faded, replaced by a shade paler than white. His breathing is quick and sharp, his body attempting to pull oxygen in at a rate too quickly. Eyes closed over, his eyelids flutter open. He attempts a smile when he sees me, but it barely forms before it’s replaced with a pained grimace. He coughs; every one of his features twisting in agony before he passes out again.
“Fuck,” I worry.
“What can I do?” I hear the restrained panic in Parker’s voice.
“Towels,” I instruct. “There’s also a medical bag in my closet.” I point to the corner of my old room.
I move closer to Rocco, my fingers gripping at his wrist to feel his pulse.
“Cold,” Rocco breathes out.
“You’re burning up,” I tell him, watching Parker return with my bag.
Dropping to my knees, I pull at the towel pushed against his side. The pristine white of the material is forever lost, now stained red with the blood leaking from his body.
“Hold this here.” I stand, moving aside to let Parker move into my position.
I rush into the ensuite of my childhood bedroom, not recognizing myself in my own reflection, in the crazed look of fear that is staring back at me. I’ve stitched countless patients, seen more blood than a vampire, but never like this. Never with the pressure of my family weighing on my shoulders, daring me to fuck it up so they can attribute blame.
Hair tied up, hands disinfected, I move swiftly back into the room. Parker lets me move into his space, shifting easily as I push him aside. Retrieving a new towel, I dump the blood-soaked one to the floor. “It looks surface,” I offer, taking a closer look. “He likely would’ve been dead if it wasn’t. The knife has nicked at the muscle though. I’ll need to suture that first.”
I pause briefly. “Do you know his blood type?”
Parker nods as I look at him.
“Good. Speak to Dominic, ask him to call in a favor. Get some sent over, just in case.”
He doesn’t look at me again before rushing from the room.
“You are gonna be the fucking death of me, Shay. You’re lucky someone loves you,” I murmur. “I probably would’ve let you die.”
“Do it,” he chokes out and I’m human enough to admit that I feel a little guilty he heard me. More, a little taken aback by the confidence in his request. He’d be happy enough to die right now. To take his final breath and be done with the heinous world he’s been both born into and crafted for himself.