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“He went to the fight, he busted his stitches open, and he bled. A lot.”
Lifting my fingers to my lips, I hold them there as I stare at him. My eyes are wide, my lips are parted, and I’m unable to move. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what comes after that, so I stay quiet and wait for what’s next.
Could there be anything next?
“He had to have a blood transfusion. Doc says he’s going to be okay, but he has to have more bed rest. A lot of fucking bed rest.”
“Can I see him?” I ask immediately.
Nash nods his head once. “You need to get hydrated and some food in you before I’ll take you down there.”
Sliding my tongue along my bottom lip, I watch him for a moment, then ask another question that I’m not quite sure I really want the answer to, but I do it anyway because I need to know. I don’t want to know anything, but this is a need.
“Where is Poison?” I ask.
“Here, locked away. She can’t hurt you.”
Nodding my head, I suck in a breath and hold it for a beat, then let it out slowly. “Okay, food then Elvis.”
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Food then Elvis.”
I want to ask him what they’re going to do to Poison, my sister. The title is odd. I’ve only ever had a brother, and the fact that she’s related to me in any way kind of makes me sick, but at the same time, I didn’t have a great life, but she had it worse. That is what makes her what and who she is. However, I don’t think she’ll ever want to be my friend. She’s known exactly who I was since day one.
As sorry as I feel for Poison, I realize it’s not really her I feel sorry for. It’s the little girl she once was. Just like myself, I feel sorry for the little girl I was, but I have changed my life. I have tried to pull myself out of and away from it all, which only brought me closer.
Looking down at my hand on the table, I stare at my fingernails. They look like shit. They’re chipped and peeling. I should be running. I should be getting the hell out of here and never looking back. Except I fell in love with the exact person who started this entire snowball effect. I love him. Everything about him.
I lift my gaze to meet Nash’s and decide that food and drinks will have to wait. I don’t give a shit about them. Not at all. “I need to see him now. Food can wait.”
Nash’s eyes widen, from my forced tone, from my insistence, I’m not sure, but he nods his head once, then stands to his feet.
“How about food on the way to Elvis?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I breathe.
“Then let’s go.”
I stand as well, then watch as he turns his back to me and makes his way toward the door but stops before opening it and looks back over his shoulder at me, his eyes finding mine, then he gives me a wink.
“He’s going to like you coming in his clothes. I’m just warning you.”
“Why?” I ask.
I have no idea what it would matter what I was wearing, plus this shirt and these sweats are at least five sizes too big for me.
He lets out a chuckle. “It’s a territorial guy thing,” he explains before he turns his head back around and tugs the door open.
“Is it like a dog pissing on something?” I ask.
Nash turns completely around and faces me. He’s wearing a smile that is almost too big for his face. He bursts out laughing and shakes his head a couple of times, then his eyes find mine again, and he holds my gaze with his, but he doesn’t stop smiling.
“It’s exactly that, darlin’. Now let’s go.”
Following behind him, I ignore the stares as we move through the bar. It’s silent. There are twice as many people as I’ve ever seen before, and it’s quieter than I’ve ever heard before. It’s eerie. I don’t know if this is some kind of foreboding, but I don’t like any part of it.
I want to go back to the comfortable cocoon of the bedroom. This is far too scary. Them being quiet. Being solemn and not partying, drinking, and screwing girls all over the place solidifies that this is really serious.
Really damn serious.
