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My lips open and close like a fucking goldfish.
“How about I show you? You think you can get your sorry arse into a wheelchair?”
“A wheelchair?” I spit, totally offended that she even thinks I need one. “I can walk.”
“Good. I didn’t really want to push you anyway.” Reaching out, she rips the covers off me and gestures for me to get up.
My eyes clock the stand with the drip on beside me, but the fact I’m attached to it doesn’t seem to faze my sister.
“We’ll take it with us, don’t worry,” she sneers.
“Do you think that maybe…” I trail off before I mention anything about a nurse, because knowing my luck, it’ll be Janice who will stroll in looking for a victim to hurt.
Running away might be my best option right now.
“Maybe what? You should continue lying here in ignorant bliss over what you’ve done?”
My stomach knots as the dread that’s sitting like a dead weight at the bottom only gets heavier.
Swinging my legs over the side, I shuffle forward and place my feet on the cool floor.
“Come on then,” my sister demands, getting impatient with how slow I am.
For someone who apparently hasn’t left this room since I was brought in, she’s not being all that caring.
The second I push my weight onto my feet, my knees threaten to buckle beneath me.
Calli watches me with a raised brow.
“Want me to get that wheelchair now?” she quips as I slowly sit my arse back on the edge of the bed.
I say nothing. I don’t need to. My sister can read me well enough.
“It’s a fucking good job I love you, Nico Cirillo,” she hisses before storming out of the room.
I hang my head, the throbbing ache in my face not getting any better for the move as I continue trying to drag up memories of how I got here. But everything is dark, as if nothing in the run-up to being here even actually happened.
Calli is back in a flash, pushing a goddamn wheelchair toward me like I’m a cripple or some shit.
“Get in, arsehole,” she whispers ominously.
“You know, I think I would have preferred to wake up to Janice,” I hiss once I’m seated.
“You’d be so lucky.”
She tucks me in with a blanket like I’m a little old man who’s about to catch a chill before wheeling my drip stand over.
“Make yourself useful and hold this,” she demands.
“Where are we going?”
“Next door.”
My heart pounds as she pushes me forward.
Other than her, the only other person I’ve seen since waking up is Daemon. It could be anyone in that room.
“Where’s Dae—”
