Fractured Minds (Rebels of Sandland 3) - Page 3

“Two visitors and that’s it,” I heard Constance bellow out over their loud voices, shutting them all up, then she started clapping her hands as if she didn’t already have everyone’s attention within a five mile radius. “You can come back tomorrow. You can go in, but don’t stay long. He needs his rest.”

A second later, I saw Ryan and Emily come in and hesitantly walk up to the side of my bed, standing over me like they were at my funeral and I was in a fucking coffin. Emily’s face was tear-stained but she was holding it together, for now, anyway.

Ryan reached forward and put his hand on my arm, then he frowned and asked, “What happened, mate? Did someone jump you?”

I shook my head, but I didn’t feel like opening up about it yet. I definitely didn’t want to let Ryan know what had really happened when Emily was in the room.

“Are you comfortable? Can we do anything for you? We could get the nurse back if you need more pain relief?” Emily said, gesturing to the door she’d just come through.

I could tell she was talking for the sake of talking. Nervous rambling. That’s what normal people do when they’re faced with a situation they feel uncomfortable in or they can’t control. I didn’t do that. When I felt uneasy or vulnerable, I clammed up, which happened a lot more than people realised.

“No,” I managed to croak out through my coarse, rough throat. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Ryan snapped. “We need to know who did this. Was it the Lockwoods? Fuck. Brandon was right. You should’ve kept the boxing classes going. He knew something like this might happen. We’re targets…”

I rolled my eyes and he stopped, giving me the time I needed to get my thoughts together and speak. I wish the answer was as simple as it being beef with the Lockwoods. They were evil, and our history with them went way back. But this time, I couldn’t pin my shit on them. This went far deeper than that.

“It wasn’t Lockwood.” I grabbed for the water but Emily beat me to it, holding it under my chin and positioning the straw so I could drink.

“Thanks.” I sipped and then pulled away, letting her place it back onto the side table. “I can handle it. It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“But we do worry.” Emily smiled at me with pity in her eyes. I hated that. I didn’t want anyone’s pity.

“So you did know them then? I swear to God, mate, if you think you’re dealing with whatever this is on your own, you’ve got another thing coming,” Ryan stated firmly, and then another voice from the door spoke over him.

“He won’t face anything alone. He’s got us. When we find the bastard, he’s fucking dead.” Brandon strolled into the room, filling the air around us with his presence. He was imposing, intimidating, larger than life, and the best fucking friend I could ever wish for. He stood on the opposite side of the bed to Ryan, looking like he was here to guard me.

“You know who it is, don’t you…” Ryan wasn’t asking. He knew Brandon and I shared things the rest of them didn’t know about. “It’s not helping if you keep this from us. We need to know what we’re dealing with.” He turned his focus onto me then. “Was this because of your graffiti? Were you in that alley working last night?”

I coughed as I tried to reply, but knowing I was struggling for an answer, Brandon spoke up for me.

“I know as much as you, Ry, mate,” Brandon said, using his best poker face. Technically, he wasn’t wrong. At that very moment, he did know as much as Ryan about the attack. But he also knew my history, and I was thanking every deity that’d ever been worshipped that he wasn’t spilling my secrets. Brandon might know as much as Ryan, but he could guess pretty easily what’d happened. A quick google search on my uncle’s release and he’d put two and two together. That was why I’d eventually opened up to him all those years ago. I knew he’d get it and he’d take my secrets to the grave. Me and him, we were cut from the same cloth.

“Fine.” Ryan ran his hands over his face and sighed. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just feel so… fucked off. I don’t like seeing you lying here like this, Finn. You of all people don’t deserve this.”

“We all feel like that.” Brandon turned to grab a chair for Harper who was standing behind him, speechless and staring at me, clutching her mobile phone like she was on a white-knuckle ride.

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked her, and she huffed out a laugh.

“I should be asking you that.” She sat down and rubbed over her little baby bump, but she didn’t smile like she usually would’ve when she did that.

“We both feel better for seeing you awake and talking.” Brandon folded his arms over his chest. It was his way of holding himself back. The Brandon I knew probably wanted to punch the wall right about now, but he’d matured a lot since being with Harper. Even so, I could tell it was taking every ounce of strength he had to keep his arms safely locked down. “Have you talked to the police yet? Are they putting something in place to protect you in here?”

Ryan frowned and I could see the cogs in his brain going into overdrive.

“I haven’t spoken to anyone yet, but it’s nothing for any of you to worry about. I got jumped. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” My attempt at detracting them from the truth was a weak one.

Ryan clucked his tongue and shook his head in exasperation.

“Nice try, mate, but I know you’re lying,” he said. “And when we find out who did this, they’re gonna regret ever going against one of our own. You’re our brother. They hurt you, they hurt us too.”

I loved Ryan for how strongly he believed in our whole brotherhood. Brandon too. I might’ve had a shit family life, but my friends were solid gold.

“Oh no you don’t!” came a booming voice from the hallway. “Two visitors. I told you that. Can’t you count?”

Suddenly, Nurse Constance came bustling into the room, puffing her chest out and flapping her arms around like a mad woman.

Then she stopped dead in her tracks and faced Brandon.

Tags: Nikki J. Summers Rebels of Sandland Romance
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