1
The physical therapist digs his hands into my neck.
I cringe at the flare of pain that radiates from his rough touch. I don’t pull away, even though I mentally curse him the fuck out. If I have to do this sick torture, the guy could have the decency to be hot. Or sociable. Hell, I’d even take a smile. One measly smile.
Breaking news: He’s neither good looking nor friendly, and I’m fairly sure the only lip movement I’ll ever get from him is his ever-present sneer.
From my first PT appointment, I could tell he had his mind made up about me already. I’m just some gang bitch delinquent who shot an innocent girl.
My stomach tugs at the thought and then does a nasty flip. When I was a little girl and thinking about my future life, I never imagined this scenario playing out. First, my parents would be here. Second... Well, fuck. The second is easy, right? I wouldn’t have been accused of murdering a young girl. It’s fucking insane.
PT dude digs deeper, and I suck in a breath. He doesn’t ease off, and in the mirrored wall in front of me, a smirk crawls over his face.
Fucking asshole. If Johnny were here…
Fuck it, if any of my guys were here. None of them would let this douchebag do this to me...and take pleasure in it.
I grip the side of the table I’m sitting on, squeezing tightly so I don’t turn and clock the asshole accidentally. Accidentally on fucking purpose, I mean. No matter how badly I want to, I’m already skating on thin ice. I don’t need an assault and battery charge added to the one I already have.
“Ray,” a sweet voice calls out.
The guy’s touch loosens. This is the first time I’ve even heard his name. It’s been four weeks of pure silence and torture for an hour every other day with metaphorical chains around my wrists, preventing me from doing anything about the mistreatment.
“What’s up?”
“Boss said I should work on this patient.”
Ray steps away. They share a look, and I’m already beginning to think this new chick isn’t going to be any better. I know what the news has been saying about me, while not bothering to get to know the real me. I mean, that’s just...appropriate? Normal? Human decency?
When you’ve been accused of such a heinous crime, I guess you lose all that.
“Have fun.” Ray chuckles darkly as he passes the new girl, flipping the door open to the hallway outside the PT room.
During my appointments, no one else is here. I guess they like to keep the people who are accused of murder separate from other patients. There’s no guard, though, which I thought was uber strange. No guard at the facility where I’m staying at either. Greenlawn, a halfway house for cons. A place where the police can keep an eye on me while they figure out if they’re actually going to press charges.
That part’s on me though. I agreed to stay at the place. It was either that or have them expedite a trial of some sort. Detective Reynolds doesn’t like me very much, so it seems he’s trying to hang me for something I didn’t do. He even has an eyewitness to my supposed murderous rampage, which is fucking outrageous.
Instead of moving toward me, the girl takes a seat on the furthest table away and studies her nails.
A prickling sensation skitters up my neck. “Umm...”
To my left, a knock on the exterior window sounds. I turn too fast, and a sharp pain radiates down my spine. The pain isn’t too much to take usually, but sometimes, PT makes it worse for a while before making it better.
I narrow my gaze, trying to see past the different torture device equipment in here to peer out the window. My heart thumps in my chest.
“You better get that,” the woman says, bored. Her voice isn’t cheery anymore. She’s either dropped the sweet act, or I just bring this behavior out in people. “You don’t have much time.”
I scramble off the table. I haven’t heard or seen any of my guys since the nurse in the hospital gave me the message from Johnny to not say anything. With all the shit that’s gone down, I get it. I don’t fucking like it, but I get it. I knew they’d find a way, eventually.
I hurry to the window. A smile breaks over my face when Finn’s grin greets me. He hikes his thumb toward the sky, and I fumble with the window until it opens. It’s difficult with the damn cast on my arm, but I manage. I can’t wait to get the damn thing off.
“Princess!”
“Shh!” the lady scolds behind us, casting a worried glance toward the main door of the room.
Finn rolls his eyes, and then moves to the side, revealing his brother, Jax, who looks far less pleased to be here.
“What are you two doing here?” I whisper, unable to hold back the smile at seeing familiar, friendly faces.
“We’ve been jonesing to see you for a month.”
I search Finn’s face for the lie automatically. No one has wanted to see me for a month. I’m not talking about Brawler, Oscar, Magnum, or Johnny, I’m talking about at the shithole place I’ve been staying in. No one likes anyone there. No one here likes me either.
However, in Finn’s face, all I recognize is raw honesty. It’s nice to be around people who actually like me.
“You’re not scared of me?”
Jax snickers. I guess if he thinks I’m a murderer, he’s not intimidated by that fact.
“Only of your right and left uppercut.” Finn winks.
I curl the fingers in on my right hand, testing how my bone is healing. It actually feels fine. It’s been four weeks since the accident, and they said it could take six to eight weeks to heal. My money—and hope—is on six.
My former trainers don’t make a move to come in, so I hop up on the spacious windowsill in front of me, pulling my knees to my chest. I bite down on my lip. So many questions come to mind, but I’m not sure where I want to start first. Images of my guys flash in front of me. Yes, my guys. Just because I haven’t seen them doesn’t mean they’re still not mine. Shit must be serious if they haven’t contacted me before this.
Finn reaches through the window and places his hand on my shoe. “I didn’t realize how fucked up things were for you, Kyla.”
I give him a wobbly smile, but Jax’s ticking jaw says he doesn’t have the same caring thoughts as his brother. Hell, I know I got myself into this. The Heights isn’t for the faint of heart. Shrugging, I put on a brave face. I’m well used to it by now. I’ve been making this same face since I was twelve. “It’s all good.” I glance between the two brothers and hold my breath. “You know I didn’t do it, right?” I like these guys. I hope the fact that they came here means they like me too and that Johnny didn’t have to threaten them to do it. With Jax’s reaction, I can’t be sure though.
“You’re kidding, right?” Finn asks. “Of course we know you didn’t do it.”
Jax scoffs, and Finn glares at him.
“Out with it,” I sigh, eyeing Jax. There’s nothing he could say that would make me feel less about myself than I already do.
“Not sure that’s a good idea…” Finn starts.
But Jax has been bottled up since they got here, or before, it seems, so he doesn’t give a shit when his brother warns him off. “It’s what you get, I guess.” Jax shrugs. A smug, tight-lipped grin covers his face, making his condescending ass look even more condescending.