Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“Not a fuckin’ chance.”
“No one hit me.”
“Stop lying to me.”
“Jesus, why can’t you leave it alone?”
“Are you kidding?” I hissed, leaning forward. “What planet are you livin’ on that you think I’d ever let anyone hurt you?”
“The planet where I haven’t heard from you in months,” she replied simply.
“That was your choice!”
“Please, just leave me alone, okay?” she muttered. “No one hit me. I fell. But my head fucking hurts, and I don’t need you in my face.”
The little bit of fire in her words was fucking soothing because it meant that my best friend was still in there somewhere, but I still couldn’t believe how much she’d changed in the past few months.
Her clothes hid it well, but up close, I could see how much weight she’d lost and it wasn’t a little. I could see her clavicle above the V-neck of her shirt and I was positive I hadn’t seen it stick out so far before. Her jeans hung on her hips and when I realized that, I also realized that she was wearing full-length pants in ninety-degree heat. My stomach lurched.
“Where else are you hurt?” I asked softly, the words almost sticking in my throat.
“What are you talking about?” she asked. Her eyes were on my shoulder again, distancing herself the same way she’d been doing for months.
“Fuck this,” I blurted, shaking my head. I reached out and grabbed her hand, being as gentle as I could while still not allowing her to pull away. Tugging her behind me, I made my way to the side door and pulled her inside the back hallway of the clubhouse.
“Knock it off, Rumi,” she sputtered, following behind me. She was protesting, her voice low, but after the initial jerk, she’d let me hold her hand.
I led her into the room that I used when I had to stay the night at the club and closed the door behind her, locking it.
“What are you doing?”
“Take off your clothes,” I ordered.
I knew I probably sounded ridiculous, and she was going to be so fucking pissed, but I couldn’t help it. I needed to see where she was hurt. I needed to make sure that she was okay. Maybe no one else had noticed, but I saw that she was holding her body just so. Her face was only a part of whatever had happened to her, and I refused to let her leave until she told me where else she hurt.
“I’m not fucking stripping,” she replied in disbelief. “Get out of my way.”
“I’ll move,” I replied, still standing in front of the door. “But when I do, I’ll go straight to my aunt Molly so she can check you out.”
“I don’t need a fucking nurse.”
“Your call, Nova.”
“This is absolute bullshit!”
“Show me where you’re hurt, or I’ll go get Molly.”
“Fine, go,” she spat, waving her hand in a shooing motion.
“Okay.” I turned toward the door and unlocked it.
I was serious. If she wouldn’t let me check her out, I was going to go get a professional to do it. The thought of her being injured and not knowing how bad was like acid in my guts. With every moment that passed, I felt more shaky and panicky and desperate.
I was halfway out the door when I felt her hand gripping the back of my T-shirt.
“Wait,” she murmured quickly. “Just wait.”
“You going to tell me what’s going on?” I asked, turning to face her.
“I fell,” she repeated.
“Fuck this,” I shot back, going for the door again.
“No, stop,” she practically yelled.
“Nova, this is fuckin’ insane,” I ground out. “Why the hell won’t you tell me who did this?”
“Rumi,” she murmured, her voice catching. “I fell, okay?” Her eyes were pleading with me, but I didn’t know what to give her. “But I’m fine.”
Before I could say a word, she was turning her back toward me and lifting her T-shirt.
My legs nearly gave out.
From halfway up, her ribcage to her shoulder blade on the left side was mottled purple and red, some sections so dark they looked almost black.
“See?” she said, carefully letting the T-shirt drop back down. “It’s just a bruise. No big deal.”
“And you got that from tripping on the deck,” I whispered flatly.
I knew the moment that she’d realized the flaw in her plan. Her black eye was on the opposite side of the bruise on her back. There was no way she could’ve gotten both at once from falling unless she’d tumbled down a flight of stairs.
“Just… let it go, okay?” she murmured, her eyes on mine again. “I’m asking you to let it go.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” I countered in disbelief.
“Because I’m asking you.”
“What’s under the pants?” I asked instead, my hands shaking so bad that I had to tuck them into my armpits.
Fuck, I wanted to hold her. I wanted to pull her against my chest and feel her hands on me and kiss that ugly fucking bruise better.