“No need to be a jerk about it,” the officer grumbles. “Your funeral if she tries to injure you.”
“She’s hooked up to a pulse ox machine and sedated. What’s she going to do? Fire mind missiles at me?”
The officer shrugs. “Your funeral then.”
He leaves me behind. Her wrist has a slight red mark where the handcuffs abraded her skin.
“Fucking police,” I mutter and look around for some lotion. I find some thin shit in the bathroom and fill my palm with it. I hurry back the bedside and rub the cream into her wrist and arms. She feels frail and vulnerable. She must’ve come back to the D1 tower and couldn’t find me, so she pulled the fire alarm, right? She wasn’t the person behind the Park Hill deal. She wouldn’t lie to me like that. She wouldn’t let me touch her, love her, treasure her if all she wanted to do was bring me to my knees...would she?
Chapter Seventeen
Leila
The sound of beeping is the first thing I hear as I start to wake. Everything comes rushing back to me like a tidal wave knocking the air out of my lungs. I don’t feel the handcuff on me anymore. I slowly open one eye but quickly shut it when I see Warren sitting beside the hospital bed. His head is down, looking at the floor.
Why is he here? Shouldn't I be in police custody or something? Facing him actually sounds scarier than prison.
“How are we doing in here?” I hear a woman ask.
“She’s still out. Are you sure you didn’t give her too much? She's so small.”
“No. She might be exhausted. She was crying up a storm before she started to have a panic attack. Are those normal for her?”
“I don’t know.” His voice sounds defeated.
“Oh. I thought I heard you say she was your girlfriend.” ‘
“I think there are a lot of things I don’t know about her.”
“Well, everything is all clear on this end. When she wakes up, she’s free to go.” Free to go? How is that even possible? She must mean from a medical standpoint. Because after what I did, there is no way the police are going to let me walk out of here.
I think I hear Warren move. A moment later his thumb brushes against my lips.
“She’s not going to be going anywhere. Are you, Leila? I know you’re awake.” Shit. He can’t prove that. What if I just lay here forever and pretend to be asleep? He’d have to get tired after a while and give up. “Open your eyes or I'll hand you back over to the police.”
I’m not so sure that’s a terrible idea. It might be easier than having to face him and admit the truth. Honesty, though, I know I could never make it in jail. So I open my eyes.
My breath catches when my eyes meet his. He looks exhausted. I wait for him to start shouting at me, but he only stares down at me.
“Why?” he finally says after a long torturous moment. I don’t know if I should feel guilty or not. Chris used me and everything he told me might have been a lie.
“My father is Dan Parson.”
He stares at me blankly and that’s even more hurtful. The name doesn’t register. My father was that unimportant, a mere casualty in War’s high-powered, high-stakes, big-money game.
“He was one of those who shouldn’t have played the game.” I throw War’s words in his face. “An investor who couldn’t afford to lose.”
“So you did this all on purpose.” I don’t think it’s a question. He runs his hand through his hair. He turns around, giving me his back. “Is Leila even your real name?”
“Yes, but my last name is Brooks,” I admit. What does it matter at this point? There is no point in hiding, and I’m sure he could easily find out everything about me if he wanted to at this point.
“How does your head feel?” He turns back around to face me.
“Fine.” I’d actually forgotten about it. I wonder how long I’d been out. I glance to the door and see two cops standing in the hallway.
“Eyes here, Leila,” he snaps. My entire body freezes for a moment. His tone is the same as when he spanked me. “You have two options. You go home with me or you go to jail and I press charges.” He folds his arms over his chest.
I open my mouth but close it. How does that even work? He can’t like keep me, can he? It would be easier to get away from him than the police, I suppose.
“Why?” I ask. What is the point of taking me home?
“We’re not done yet.”
“You’re awake.” The nurse from earlier that let me use her phone comes walking into the room. “I got you these to change into.” She sets down some clothes on the bed.