as the rage in my soul and the violence in my veins. Besides, he'd never let some piece of shit nobody like that asshole be the death of him. He was far too proud for that.
T he doctor had let us into a private clinic in some unknown town when we arrived several hours ago. I hadn’t been able to focus on where we were, I’d only been able to focus on Saint and how still he was. The man had taken him inside with a bunch of nurses, all of them wearing masks and gloves. They hadn’t let the rest of us into the building until they’d checked our temperatures and asked if we had any symptoms or been in contact with anyone we didn’t know recently. None of us mentioned the group of armed men we’d all just been fighting and getting way too close to, and I didn’t even want to think about the fact that we’d been put at risk of contamination on top of everything else. Or, I guess that wasn’t entirely true, was it? Because according to one of the many bombs that had been dropped on my head tonight, I was actually immune. But I just didn’t have the energy to think on that right now while I was so caught up worrying over Saint.
I stood in a white-walled waiting room with fluorescent lights beaming down on us, so blindingly bright that they seemed to blaze right into my skull. Worry ate into my chest like locusts feasting on my insides. I was in purgatory waiting to find out if Saint would live. To hear how bad his injuries were.
I found myself looking at Blake, Monroe and Kyan, their eyes locked on me like I was the centre of their world. I’d heard Monroe quietly explaining to them what had happened in the cabin, how Mortez had killed my dad and gotten a hold of me. And the way their expressions twisted at what I’d witnessed made me adore them even more.
A whimper of need escaped me as I moved towards them and as one they closed in around me, their bodies crushing me into the middle of them as they held and caressed me and I sighed as I just let myself have this. I couldn't process everything that had happened yet, I just needed to feel their warmth surrounding me. But through everything, my pain and grief spilled over and tears washed down my cheeks as the loss of my dad cut into me so deeply that I could hardly breathe.
The blood covering me was drying against my skin like a film. I wanted to wash and scrub every piece of my flesh until I revealed a new girl beneath it. But I was afraid of the one I’d find there when I did.
After a while, I was drawn out of the group and found myself being pulled down into a chair, wrapped in Blake's arms as he held me against his firm chest, murmuring reassurances in my ear. I buried my face in his neck as he shared in my pain. He knew this grief, he'd lived it himself not long ago. And it seemed only right to fall apart in his arms because he was a mirror to my soul right now.
Monroe pressed a hand to my back as he stood close behind me and Kyan's hand wrapped firmly around mine as he took the seat beside Blake. I cried until the tears wouldn't come anymore and my heart retreated into a hardened shell, my pain easing a little. I felt hollow and exhausted and somehow that was worse. Like I could feel the absence of my dad now. A new hole carved into my chest, widening the gap that Jess had left when I'd lost her. My entire family were gone. The memories of my childhood, of all the days we'd spent together now resided solely in me. There was no one left in the world who shared my past. No single person who would ever reminisce with me, who would know the jokes we'd shared, the fun we'd had, the life we'd led. It was mine to carry, to relive. Alone.
I slid from Blake's lap at last and Monroe moved back a step as I passed him by and walked to the window, staring out at the paling sky. Dawn was coming. And I didn't want it to. I wanted to go back to the last time