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“What?”
“Our last conversation and how you were determined to throw in the towel—on your life, on me, on us—”
“Well, that’s all changed.” He raises his chin proudly.
“Has it?”
“I went public. The world knows I’m alive.”
“Really?” This is big news.
“I realized exactly what you’re saying, Riv. I thought staying in hiding was the only way to keep everyone safe. But after this disaster in LA and Atlanta, I know I can’t do that. I have to stop Morris. I have to find him.”
He finally wants to fight. It’s a miracle. “And?”
“I have no leads, but Kyle does.”
“That’s great.”
Huff looks deflated.
“Isn’t it?” I add.
“He won’t tell me anything unless I give him more samples of my blood. He claims they’re going to try to find an antidote for Morris’s drug, but I know he’s lying. At least partially. My gut tells me they think they finally have a way to reverse engineer me.”
“Well, Sam says always follow your gut.”
“Who’s Sam?” Huff asks.
A guy you could learn a lot from.Samuel’s unafraid of the world, speaks his mind, and fights like hell for what he believes in. He’s originally from Spain, where my parents met, and speaks fluent Spanish.
“He’s a friend I met at Clover,” I say.
“He?So Sam’s a guy.”
Yes, and he listens to me. He’s smart and caring, too. “Yeah. So?”
Huff shrugs in that special way when he’s really bothered but wants to hide it. “What is he at Clover for?”
Long story, but basically Sam’s mom’s new boyfriend turned out to be not such a good person. Sam had a little fist-to-fist talk with the douchebag and then ejected the guy from his mom’s place. The boyfriend pressed assault charges, and since there was no hard evidence to back up Sam’s or his mom’s claim that Douchebag hit her, the judge gave Sam the choice between two months at Clover for his “anger issues” or six months in county jail.
Poor guy.Not that he whined or sulked for one second in group. He calmly stated the facts: “I defended my mom, and if that means I have to be here for eight weeks, then so be it.”
So calm. So strong. Sigh…I met him my first week at Clover. We ended up chatting right away and really clicked.
Then, about five days after I got there, one of the staff—Buck, a male nurse—cornered me in my room. I screamed as he threw me to the floor. He said I had to suck his dick, or he’d make sure I spent four weeks in the “fluffy white room.”
Sam heard me yelling and flagged down one of the female nurses. They came in just as Buck was tearing out clumps of my hair. Sam pulled the guy off me and beat the shit out of him. For that “offense,” Sam was placed in the violent offenders’ wing of the clinic. When I found out, I went apeshit, and they sedated me. Again.
Oh, Sam…I need to get him out of there. And, frankly, Clover needs to be burned to the ground. I got lucky that I evaded a full-scale sexual assault for the second time in my life, but what about the other women at Clover?
“So?” asks Huff. “Why was your friend Sam at Clover?”
“That’s really not my business to discuss, Huff.”
He narrows his blue eyes.
“Stop it. Okay? Sam’s a good guy. Better than you in some ways.” The only problem is that I love Huff—it’s something I’m trying to get over.He’s not good for me.Sam says so.
