Break Me

The soft glow off her golden hair beams brightly. Her blue eyes meet mine, and I feel like I am in the hands of an angel. This can’t be heaven, because the gates damn sure won’t open for a demon like me. I don’t know where I am or why, but I feel safe just from the look in her eyes.

“Calm down. Breathe easy,” her soft voice soothes.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Was I shot?

The glow leaves me as she steps back. A man in a white coat with the name Sam Bennett, MD, on his chest stands over me. “You seem more alert now, so let’s go over some things.”

My head pounds, and the light is blinding. The blond nurse leaves my room. I am alone with the doctor. My ears are ringing, and I want this man to shut the fuck up, not go over some things.

“The gentleman who dropped you off exited before we could get your information. There is discharge paperwork for you to sign. With your hands being bandaged, someone from registration will be in here shortly to help you,” he says, looking at the screen on his laptop. Registration doesn’t need to come. I’m not staying. I’m not signing a damn thing. I’m not giving them any information for multiple reasons, the biggest one being the illegal fight in a ring. If word got out that I gave them that information, I would be signing my death certificate. The next one is that I am who I am, and who I am can’t be laid up in a hospital after being in an illegal fight.

“Can you give me your name so I can at least update this until administration arrives?”

“Cobra,” I say on a huff. No way am I giving him my real name. My father can’t ever know I fight. My father can’t know I tarnished his name and his upstanding leadership position in the community. I’m lucky he hasn’t already found out and put an end to it . . . or an end to me.

The doc raises an eyebrow at me, but he doesn’t push me further at the moment. He types away, and I can’t help wondering what he is putting in the computer. Bottom line, I need to get the fuck out of here now.

“Given we had no contacts, we authorized emergency services access to your phone where they contacted the number you had listed as ‘ICE’ for in case of emergency,” he rambles off.

Shit, is all I can think. I need to update that. When I put it in, I did it being a smartass. Knowing they used it, I fucked up. She doesn’t need to be brought into this world anymore than she already has been.

“The woman who answered didn’t seem to know who you were at first. However, after describing your tattoo, she figured it out and assured me she would have your family here for you today. However, she was evasive about your identity as well.” He raises an eyebrow at me suspiciously.

Before I can figure out who would have been sent for me, I hear her screeching as she comes into the room. “You fucking piece of shit!” Missy wails as she storms over to me. “Tatiana Caldwell is your emergency contact!” Her hair is wild around her face, she isn’t wearing makeup, and for the first time in the three years we have been together, she is out in public in sweats and a T-shirt. Missy is always put together, dressed in fifties glam . . . except for today, that is.

The doctor’s pager goes off, and without a word, he bolts. Sitting up, I see my moment to escape.

Missy has a bag in her hand. I reach over for it. Looking at the gauze covering my hands, I begin to unravel them. Every movement is painful—from the top of my head down to my fucking big toe—but I have to get out of here and now.

Missy keeps pushing. “How is it you would consider her your contact? You fuck me, you live with me. Why her? What is she to you?”

I’m in no mood to give her the truth. She just wants to push my buttons . . . Well, two can play that game.

“Next of kin—that’s who they say should be your ICE number. She’s my next of kin.”

“Have you lost your damned mind?”

I give her my best jackass smile. “Missy, I know you aren’t going to understand this, but she and I were bred from the same kind of bastards.”

Tossing the bag on the bed in front of me, I unzip it to find she has packed clean boxers, sweats, and a shirt. Perfect. I also find my phone is over on the window ledge of the hospital room. Brock must have my wallet and fight gear.