“You called my mom?” Ayden’s brows knit as he stares at Dr. Gardingdale. “Why?”
“Actually, that was me.” I pull a guilty face as Dr. Gardingdale hands me back my phone. “Sorry, I panicked.”
“It’s fine . . . I needed to call her anyway, considering what happened.” Ayden sighs exhaustedly, his head slumping back against the bed. “I just don’t like that she’s probably worried as hell right now. I hate worrying her.”
“I know you do, but trust me, we love that we get to worry about you.” I sit up and press my lips to his.
I’ll kiss him over and over again
Every second I get a chance
After what happened
How can I not?
How can I ever not be with him?
“Are you okay?” Ayden checks as he studies my face closely. “You look pale.”
“I am now,” I say, sitting down beside him. “You might have a real problem though.”
His head angles to the side as his face contorts in confusion. “And what’s that?”
“That you’re never going to get rid of me.” I thread our fingers together. “I’ll never want to leave your side again after what just happened.”
He chuckles, the tension momentarily vanishing from his eyes. “I’m perfectly okay with that problem. In fact, I think I should never, ever get rid of it.”
“Good, because it’s not going anywhere.” I rest my head against his shoulder and close my eyes, breathing in the moment.
It’s such a small thing, being here with him, but it feels so immensely important, because he’s still him.
I just hope to God he stays that way.
EVEN THOUGH IT MIGHT SOUND insane, I thought I was going to be stuck in that memory forever. Then I heard Lyric’s voice, pulling me back to her. When I opened my eyes, there she was, leaning over me with worry in her eyes.
Thankfully, the longer I grasp onto her the more she settles down. If I could, I’d stay this way forever. But I know I need to get to the police station so I can tell Detective Rannali about my father and give him descriptions and a name.
My father. I involuntarily shudder at the thought of what he did to my mother. All this time I thought she died of a drug overdose, that she did it to herself. But my father killed her, just like he probably killed my brother. What really gets to me, though, is that the entire fucking thing was planned. That my mother had us so she could give us to these horrible people. That my father actually believed I was supposed to be ready to take on his whacked out beliefs.
I suddenly feel less guilty about what happened and really, really fucking angry. It’s hard to sort through all my emotions when I’m so fucking torn.
Hate or not.
Guilt or fault.
Live or rot.
I don’t know what to do.
What kind of person I am.
Who to blame.
Myself?
My mother?
My father?
Suddenly, the door bursts open and Lila barges inside with Ethan right behind her. Her anxiety is written all over her face, her eyes are wide, and her hair’s a mess like she ran in a windstorm to get here.
“Ayden Gregory,” she starts as she storms toward my bedside. A scowl etches her face as her lips part, but then she whispers, “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
Lyric scoots out of the way as Lila throws her arms around me and hugs me so tightly I can barely breathe.
“Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” she says with a few tears dripping down her cheeks.
Ethan gives me a pat on the shoulder and a sympathetic look as Lila continues to strangle me with her death hug. I notice Ethan’s eyes are a little red, like he was crying before he got here. It makes me feel like the world’s biggest asshole, because Ethan hardly ever gets too emotional, so he had to be extremely worried.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize to both of them. “I just needed to do this, and I knew you’d never let me.”
“You’re damn right we wouldn’t have.” Lila steps back and motions at the monitors around the room. “Because I knew something like this would happen.”
“But I’m fine.” I sit up and wince as my muscles groan in pain.
“I don’t care if you’re fine.” She wipes the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand then waves a finger at me. “You won’t do this treatment again.”
“I don’t have to do it again.” I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. “I know who’s been after me and who has my sister. I know what they look like and know one of their names.”