Blood spews everywhere, and an image flashes in my mind. I no longer watch Liam hit his opponent but rather see myself receiving blows to the face. In slow motion, a fist punches me, and someone—a teenager with brown hair, not much younger than these guys—yells, “I fucking hate you!”
Stop! I scream in my head as lightning streaks through the sky. Liam halts mid-hit and turns toward me. I stare back.Please, stop!
He looks down at the guy in his grips, leans forward, and, with a snarled expression, grounds out, “If you go near her, I will rip your fucking head off!” He releases his grip, and the guy flopsto the ground. Liam strides over to his book lying open in the dirt, picks it up, and walks away for a final time.
All three attackers lie in a bloody heap. My stomach curls, and nausea upheaves my insides. I scurry to the nearest bush and lose all of my stomach contents.
Ean pats my back. “Whoa, there, Little One. I think I should get you back to the clinic. Too much excitement for the morning.”
Still dry heaving, I shake my head. Another streak of lightning flashes in the sky, followed by a crack of thunder.
Anders isn’t happy with me. His pinched expression stares straight ahead. Even though he is busy and needs to follow up with Liam, he insists on escorting me to the clinic. He finally glances over and asks, “What was it about the fight that made you sick?”
I replay the whole fight in my head, the flashback I saw, and the look on Liam’s face as he hit the other recruit.
Anders abruptly stops and meets my eye directly. “Do that again.” Confused by his request, I shrug. He claims, “It was like watching a movie. Replay that whole incident in your mind again, especially that flashback of the person hitting you. I want you to hold that memory.”
It’s no use. I never see faces. Even if in my line of vision, it’s too blurry or distorted by shadows.
He leans down, resting his hands on his knees, to be eye level with me. “Just give it a go. Plus, I want to see and hear what you saw.” I do as he asks. When he is satisfied, we return to my room,where he leaves me so he can attend to the recruits, promising someone will come by shortly.
Charlie arrives sometime after lunch. He shows me a notebook with thin scrawled handwriting. He says that I inspired him to write a song. Reading the lyrics, I give him a tight-lipped smile and point to his guitar.
With his sinfully charming smile, he obliges and plays some chords, but it just doesn’t fit. Charlie wants it to be a slow song. To me, though, my instincts scream the lyrics fit better with a faster tempo, more upbeat, one that matches his personality and his style. Together, we change the music chords and rearrange the lyrics until it finally all clicks together.
Charlie chucks my chin. “You got some real talent, Little One. It makes me wonder if you ever played before.”
I lift my left hand and wiggle my fingers.
He rubs his thumb over my fingertips. “No calluses,” he confirms, gazing at me with a serious expression. “I hope you get your voice back. It would be nice if you and I could sing a duet together.”
I huff and wrinkle my nose, pushing my glasses up simultaneously.
He raises his brow and smirks. “Don’t give me that look. Call it intuition. I think you are musically inclined.” He shrugs. “You know everything and could probably sing, too.”
I roll my eyes.
“I’m serious. I think we could make a great duet. Look at what we just did in a few hours.” I stare at him blankly. “I guess in time we’ll find out.” He winks, and just like that, he resumes his flirty, joking ways and begins to pack up his belongings. “I can’t wait to show the guys what we put together,” he gushes, clapping his hands together. “I will see you tomorrow and let you know how it went.” He leans over and gives me a hug. “Get some rest, Little One.” He kisses my cheek.
Liam walks in just as Charlie pulls away. Wearing his regular sour expression, he lifts his chin in Charlie’s direction and retreats to his usual post.
Charlie smirks, watching Liam, before collecting his guitar and notebook to leave. Liam is earlier today. I assume Sodie will stay with me tonight then.
Sighing, I gather my bag of toiletries—a gift from Shakti—and head to the bathroom. When I return, I put everything back in my nightstand drawer. On the bedside table sit a little medicine cup full of vitamins and supplements and a tall glass filled with my meal replacement shake.
“The nurse just came. She said she will be back with your injections in a few minutes.”
I nod without turning to look at Liam. I grab a beanie from my nightstand and notice a notepad and pen next to it. Sliding the beanie on my head, I don’t disturb the tablet.
“Charlie returned not long after you went into the bathroom and brought a notepad. He said in case inspiration hits you and you want to write more song lyrics.” Smiling to myself, I pick up the notepad and pen.
Liam rarely talks—this is the most he’s spoken to me since I met him. I like the sound of his voice. That slight accent—wow. It’s soothing, sexy even. If he talked more, I wouldn’t mind listening. I blush and quickly scribble a question on the paper, holding it up for him to read.
Slowly, he reads the paper and then looks at me, then back to the paper. “No. You’re stuck with me until morning.”
I offer okay sign and walk away to my bed. Nervously, I glance at Liam in the corner of the room when Mimi enters with the injections. She asks to see the wounds on my back and the surgical incision on my throat, and I freeze.
I forgot about dressing changes. Usually, Sodie is here for this part. With his expressed interest in the medical field, hetends to help the nurse. It never bothered me for some reason with him around for my regular check-in. Mimi passes her wound care kit to Liam and chastises me, discovering I haven’t taken my meds yet.
