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I sit quietly as they tend to Liam and Lanston and load them both in the ambulance. Someone helps me up and guides me in as well.
Liam looks at me with dark, hollow eyes. He knows.
He’s going to have to tell me everything.
31
Liam
Wynn sitsat Lanston’s bedside, holding his hand and waiting for him to wake up.
They had to put a few stitches in my thigh and the pain is already throbbing through down to my bones. I deserve it; it scratches the itch and makes looking at my traumatized friends less heart-wrenching. This is my fault… I look down at my phone with heavy eyes. Three missed text messages from Mom, the same three messages she always sends.
I pull up a chair next to Wynn.
She doesn’t look at me as she whispers, “What does Crosby want? No more secrets, Liam. No more lies.”
I slouch back in the uncomfortable chair and run my finger over a small scratch on her neck. She flinches and looks at me with distrust flickering across her eyes. Somehow that hurts worse than the machete cutting through my leg.
“Liam.” She stares at me coldly, clearly not wanting anything but words.
Words I don’t seem to have.
“Wynn… I can’t.”
She stands from her chair, pointing at the door and saying in an icy, hushed tone, “Then get the fuck out.”
Lanston stirs, groaning and lifting his hand to his head slowly.
“Wynn? Oh, thank God, you’re okay.” He smiles as she wraps her arms around his shoulders, sobbing as he murmurs softly that he’s okay.
“Why did you stay behind? We could’ve made it out together.” Her voice cracks and guilt sets in deeper inside me with each tear that falls from her chin.
Lanston holds her tightly. “No, I don’t think we could’ve.” She sits back on the edge of the bed as he wipes away her tears. “Can you give me and Liam a few minutes, Wynn?” he asks her softly.
She glances at me hesitantly before nodding. Lanston waits until the door clicks shut behind her before speaking again.
“I thought Crosby was gone.”
I lean forward in my chair and duck my head, rubbing the back of it and staring at the floor.
“He never left. He never will.”
Lanston sits up, wincing. “What do you mean?”
I thread my fingers together and look up at him. “He has a grudge against me that long precedes my time at Harlow… but I’m worried he’s set his eyes on someone else now—” My stomach curls at the thought of Crosby’s cold hands curling around Wynn’s throat.
“No. Not her.”
I nod, not knowing what else I could possibly say.
“We need to file a police report. We’re not safe anymore.” Lanston throws off his blanket and tries to get out of the bed. His legs give out and I catch him before he falls. His hazel eyes are filled with anguish and it hurts to see him so afraid.
This is my fault. This isallmy fault.
“I already did. I told them everything.” I set him back in the bed.
Lanston’s eyes search mine warily. “Did they catch him?”
