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“Sleep for now. You're safe,” she tells me again, and I do what she tells me. Once again welcoming the blackness when it comes.
“Hey, sweetie.” It’s Maddy I see when I wake up this time. I search the room for Troj but the only other people here are Grimm, Rogue, and Jessie.
“Maybe you boys could give us a minute,” Maddy suggests, and neither Grimm nor Jessie argues, both of them kissing their girls on the cheek before heading out into the corridor.
“How are you feeling?” Maddy forces me a smile.
“How do you think she’s fucking feeling? Jesus, Mads,” Rogue intervenes, rolling her eyes and slumping into a plastic chair on the opposite side of the bed.
“I was only trying to…” Maddy suddenly looks like she’s going to cry.
“I’m feeling much better,” I quickly tell her. “Thank you for being here. Both of you.” I look between them.
“Your uncle and aunt only just left, and your friend Dyanni was here too. She rode back home with Thorne.” A vision of her on the back of a bike makes me smile, which is really good because I never thought I’d smile again after what happened to me. It’s funny how something so simple could make me forget just for a blissful second.
“And Troj?” I ask, not sure if I want to know the answer.
“Troj’s been dealing with some club stuff.” Maddy tries to be tactful and pours water from the glass jug beside my bed, bringing it to my lips. I take it from her and sip. The coldness of the water eases the scratch inside my throat.
“Do you remember anything about the man in the suit, he wore a mask?” Rogue asks me, and a blank face suddenly appears in my head, his cold dark eyes making me jump and spill the water in my hand.
“Rogue,” Maddy hisses at her. She fusses over me, grabbing tissues and trying to dry the water off my chest. “She’s been through hell, you could try a little tact,” she scolds.
“Tact don’t get justice,” Rogue points out, standing up and coming closer to the bed.
“The man whose men they were is dead, and we have four of their names,” she informs me, that sadistic look in her eye is much more like the Rogue I remember.
“Rogue!” Maddy stares at her wide-mouthed, the poor girl’s horrified.
“She needs to hear this, trust me.” Rogue flashes Maddy a look, one that suggests she’s suffered herself. She must have because she’s right. I’ve never wished death upon anyone before, but knowing this does give me a sense of ease.
“That’s probably where Troj is right now, gutting them like fish for what they took from you.” I see the fierceness in her eyes and I know without her telling me, that this is something we share now. What happened to me, Rogue has suffered too.
“No one seems to know who the man in the mask is, Shaniya, not even the men he hired. If you can remember something, anything, we can make him pay too.”
I remember everything, his voice, the way his breath felt on my skin as he invaded my body. I just can’t put any of it into words. I shake my head as more tears stream out my eyes and soak my cheeks. “I just want Troj,” I whisper.
The door opens, and Jessie and Grimm return with a man in a uniform. He seems tired, and his wrinkly skin looks a few sizes too big for his body.
“Chief Roswell,” he introduces himself with a nod and a sympathetic smile that I guess I’ll have to get used to now.
“You don’t have to talk to him,” Jessie tells me sternly.
“He’s right, you don’t. But if you wanted to go about this the official way…” Chief Roswell takes a notepad and a tiny pen from the belt he’s wearing.
“I told you last night, this is a club problem.” Jessie snaps at him. I’m surprised that even he would talk to an officer of the law that way.
“I just wanted to give the young lady the option,” Chief Roswell holds up his hand defensively.
“You ever want to see those men who hurt you again, darlin’?” Jesse asks me outright, and I don't have to think about the answer. Not even for a second.
“Never,” I shake my head.
“There's your answer, Roswell. Now go hand out some speeding fines.” Jessie opens the door to see the man out.
“Make sure you keep it clean, Jessie. I got Hawker all over my ass, and he’s just waiting for an excuse to take you in,” Roswell warns him before leaving.
“When can I go home?” I ask once he’s gone.
