Page 121 of Bleed

This time, I don’t fight it.

Chapter

Twenty-Six

Another day and a half later, I’m mostly back to normal. Physically, anyway.

My strength has returned, the dizziness is gone, and I can walk across a room without Taylor hovering three inches behind me like I’m a toddler learning how to use my legs.

Emotionally, though? I’m fucking pissed.

Elliott still hasn’t bothered to show his face– it’s been three days since he dropped my half-dead ass off on James’ doorstep, and apparently that was the extent of his concern. No visit, no message, no phone call… not even a fucking carrier pigeon to confirm I’m still alive.

Seriously, how dare he?

He nearly drains me dry, dumps me here, and then what? Goes home and returns to his regularly scheduled life? Doesn’t he give a shit whether I’m okay? And what about the whole our-blood-fucking-glows situation?

You’d think Dr. Science would have a few thoughts on that.

“… but obviously you don’t have to make any decisions right away,” Taylor says, her voice sounding distant despite the fact she’s sitting directly across from me.

My fingers drum restlessly against my thigh, my gaze fixed out the window at the dark lawn below.

“And I know it’s a lot to process.”

Tap, tap, tap.

“But I think maybe once you two actually talk…”

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

“Bex.”

She snaps her fingers in front of my face and I startle, jerking my attention back to her.

“What?”

She gives me a withering look. “Are you even hearing me?”

“Yeah.” I huff out a breath, one hand tightening around the handle of my tea mug while the fingers of my other keep tapping out their anxious rhythm beneath the table.

Taylor’s brows lift in silent challenge.

“Mostly,” I amend, lifting the mug and taking a sip as I sink deeper into my chair.

The bedroom I’ve been occupying for the past few days is bigger than my old apartment, complete with a massive en-suite bathroom that resembles a luxury spa and multiple seating areas tucked around the room. There’s nothing stopping me from venturing out and wandering around the mansion, but between Taylor hovering and the staff delivering food around the clock, why bother? Even Ozzy seems perfectly content to hole up in here with me, keeping me company while my body recovers and my mind spins out of control.

He’s currently curled up on the windowsill beside us, snoozing peacefully. The lights are dim, the rest of the mansion quiet at this hour. Outside, moonlight spills across the sprawling lawn, fading into darkness near the distant trees.

Taylor studies me for a long moment, her eyes narrowing. “So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” I groan, setting the mug down and scrubbing a hand over my face. “I mean, why the fuck am I sitting here worrying about what to do with this stupid bond when he hasn’t even bothered to show up and check on me?”

Her lips purse. “Well…” She trails off, shifting her weight in her chair opposite mine. “To be fair, we did warn him to stay away...”

I snort a bitter laugh. “Oh, so now you’re Team Elliott?”

Her expression darkens immediately. “Absolutely not. But…” She leans forward to reach for my hand across the table, her gaze softening. “I’m Team my-bestie-might-be-bonded-too, which would mean we’d both get to live forever, together.”