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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
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SKYLA
TO KNOW OR NOT TO KNOW
Cream Puff screamed at me when I made it back to my apartment. I picked her up off the floor and lifted her to my shoulder, where she nuzzled my neck and tucked herself into my hair.
“Sorry, baby,” I whispered. “I promise not to leave you so long again.”
I only put her down to put on some clothes. My torn dress was still in the common room, and sirens knew where my heels were. I made sure I had my phone. “Okay, let’s go.” Holding out my arm, Puff crawled up my arm to my shoulder again. “We’re going to go see Clementine.”
None of the guys had told me I couldn’t.
Internally, I bristled at the idea they could tell me to do anything. But I was learning. It was a dichotomy that was fucking with my mind, and seeing my friend would be good.
From the closet, I chose Delta’s hoodie this time. I hadn’t unpacked any of my stuff, and I didn’t feel like doing it right now. And if I were going to be in his bed later, might as well do something to drive him wild.
The infirmary was quiet. No one here but me and the prospect named Brian. He hadn’t been patched in, so he didn’t have his road name yet. Clementine’s hand was held in both of his. In the daylight, she looked a lot worse, but her eyes were open.
“Hey,” I said.
She slowly looked at me. “Hey.”
Brian looked at me. “I’ll go check in and see if I’m needed.” He leaned over Clementine and kissed her forehead. “I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.”
He nodded to me as he passed, and I took the seat he vacated. “In the mood for a kitten?”
She tried to smile and didn’t get far. “Sure.”
I put Cream Puff on the bed next to her, and she climbed up Clementine’s chest, licking her face before curling up in her hair. The little thing always seemed to know what people needed.
Clementine’s nose was busted. Her eyes were black, and she looked uncomfortable. “I’m so sorry, Clem.”
“Why?”
Guilt made me nauseous. “They did this because of me. Because they were trying to get to me.” And it almost worked.
With one hand, she reached up and stroked Puff’s fur. “I’ve had worse.”
“What?”
She looked at me. “There’s a reason I don’t talk about my childhood, Skyla. I’m no stranger to taking a beating.”
It was true. She hadn’t ever told me anything about her family or where she grew up. In general, we weren’t that sort of friend. But she hadn’t mentioned it even in passing. “That doesn’t mean you should have to,” I said. “Especially because of me.”
“I passed out pretty quickly,” she said. “It could have been worse.”
“God, Clem.” I let my head fall into my hands. “Still.”
She put her hand on mine. “Sky. It doesn’t matter. Does this suck balls? Yes. But you didn’t send those people after me.”
I grit my teeth, wanting to protest more. But she was the one in an infirmary bed, and making it about me wouldn’t help her. “Why hasn’t Rocketman healed any of this?”
“He wanted to wait to make sure my head’s okay. Said he’ll patch me up this afternoon.”
