Provoke

He rolled his eyes and put his arm around me. “Don’t worry, I’ll get over it. I mean, it’s not the first time you’ve left me stranded.”

“Ben…” I hesitated. Things had just gotten really awkward. Just like that, our past was back out there like a bad smell.

“Leet, it’s fine. I get it. Come on. We need to get him out of here.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Mace

Am I dead?

No. If I were dead, I wouldn’t be in this much fucking pain. I groaned and cracked my eyes open, the light almost blinding me. My hand felt like a dead weight as I lifted it to shield my eyes from that fucking light.

“Mace. Thank God you’re okay.”

Leet. Her hand slipped inside mine. I tried to squeeze it, but couldn’t. I g

roaned again, trying to get my mouth to work, but even moving my jaw hurt like fuck.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re in hospital. You were in a pretty bad way,” she said, stroking my head.

I tried to think back. My memory was fuzzy. I remembered leaving Leet in the car, but nothing after that. What the fuck had happened? I didn’t have the energy to ask, drifting back off to sleep.

#

Yawning, I opened my eyes. Leet sat, contorted into an odd position on the chair next to the bed, snoring softly. I smiled. Fuck, she’s so cute when she’s sleeping. I felt bad about waking her, so I didn't. Instead, I just lay there and watched her, drinking in every detail.

Sighing, I shifted in the bed. Everything hurt. My fucking toes hurt. My arm was killing like a motherfucker, and I felt like I’d been stabbed in the chest a couple of hundred times.

How long have I been here?

I struggled to remember what had happened. I was desperate for answers. What time was it? Glancing over at Leet again, I watched as she stirred. Her eyes opened and she stared at me, shocked. She blinked, as if she didn’t trust her own vision.

“You're awake,” she said, getting to her feet. Crouching at my side, she reached for my hand and held it between hers, tears springing in her eyes as she smothered me with kisses. I managed a smile. Hell, even that hurt.

“What happened?” I asked. Fuck, my throat is dry. I pointed to the water jug on the table beside my bed, rocking my wrist in a drinking motion.

“You don't remember anything?” she asked, her voice soft as she poured the water.

I shook my head. She tilted my head, placing the cup at my lips. The cold liquid felt strange against my cracked lips, but I swallowed. Anything to ease the burning pain in my throat.

“I remember leaving you in the car, and then it's only fuzzy after that,” I said, my voice scratchy.

“You were beat up pretty bad,” she said, her voice soft.

“You came after me?”

She shook her head. “No, he knew that I was with you. He—one of the other guys—came down to the car and got me. He took me up to the warehouse.”

I struggled to sit up. “Did they hurt you?”

She shook her head, her eyes not quite meeting mine. What wasn’t she telling me?

“You've got a broken collarbone, three broken ribs, and some pretty nasty bruises,” she explained, her fingers stroking my arm.

That explains the pain.

“I'm going to get a doctor, okay?”