I turn back around to hear the two men groan as they writhe on the ground.
I put two bullets in each of their heads before the clean-up crew arrive. Hopefully they get here before the police do.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Sailor
“What was that?” I ask the nurse as she goes to the window and looks out.
“Looks like a car is on fire,” she says. “That’s not something you see every day.”
I get up and follow her, staring out the window at a fire in the parking lot. We’re too far up to see what kind of car or if anyone is hurt.
“Get back into bed until the doctor clears you.” She lays her hand on my shoulder and walks me back.
My parents left to get changed and have some food. I’m meant to be leaving today, and I can’t wait. I plan to leave this city altogether. It was always a dream to live here, but now that dream isn’t my reality anymore. It’s more my own personal hell.
“Sweetcheeks.” I turn to see Joey walking in the room, a smile on his face, but it seems forced.
“You hear that outside?”
Joey nods and sits in the chair by the bed. I’m still waiting for Ellie to come with my things so I can shower and change. I want my own toothbrush, not the hard one they gave me. And I want my own clothes, not this flimsy hospital gown. “Do you know if everyone is okay?” I ask.
“I’m sure it will be fine.”
“Is Keir coming back?” I check, then chew on my bottom lip.
Joey looks up and sends me another uneasy smile. “I’m sure he won’t be long.”
I don’t know why I asked that. I don’t need him back. But for some reason I wanted to know. As the words left Joey’s mouth, Keir steps in holding my bag. He walks over, drops it on my bed, and steps back. Coldness radiates from him. He looks at me, and there is no warmth in those eyes like there was yesterday.
“Ellie was bringing that.”
“Ellie had other plans she needed to attend to.” The way he says it doesn’t make me feel good—something is wrong.
“What plans?” Joey stands, and my eyes fall to him before they go back to Keir.
“Lessons,” he responds cryptically.
“Ellie doesn’t do lessons,” I say, confused.
“How well do you really know her?” Joey asks. Keir shoots him a hard stare before they both look back at me.
“Not well. Just that she doesn’t know many people here.” I shrug.
“Oh, that’s all?” Joey says. Keir shoots him another look. “I’m going to wait outside.” Joey leaves the room, and it’s just Keir.
Last night’s Keir and this Keir are two entirely different people.
This is the one I’m used to.
“I feel like something is going on that you aren’t telling me.”
“I saw Paige today.” My back straightens at his words. He doesn’t seem to notice and carries on, “Asked me to forgive her. Do you think I should forgive someone who betrayed me?”
I feel like he’s asking me a trick question, and my answer is one he is counting on to be right—well, his version of right, whatever that is.
“That’s up to you. You had plans with her. Why let me get in the way of that?”
“Maybe you’re right,” he answers thoughtfully and walks to the window. “She would carry a child to full term.” He glances back at me, and I know that stab meant to hurt me.
It does as intended.
Hit the bullseye.
The pain I feel is immeasurable, but I say nothing.
“And we have discovered she wants me. And every man wants to be wanted by his life partner, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
Keir walks over to my bed and places his hand on my foot. “You aren’t right for me.” His words are sharp, clear, decisive, and for some reason, they almost devastate.
Why do they hurt? That’s what confuses me the most.
“Not right for you?” I ask, sitting up straighter in the bed. He moves back, and it agitates me. I swing my legs off the bed and stand to confront him. “I’m not right for you?” I ask again and shake my head. “You are day and night … do you know that?” He gives me a puzzled look. “The two can’t do the same thing, yet you tried several times. You give me all the right words. Sunlight. Then you take them away. Darkness. But want to know the best part?” I step up closer to him. “I don’t give a flying fuck. I told you from the beginning we would never work. I hate your life, and you could never live in mine. So go …” I wave my hand toward the door. “Go, run to your crazy future baby mama, who I might add, could slit your throat one night in your sleep because that’s how fucked-up she is.” I’m yelling now and I don’t care.