Liar (Madison Kate #2) - Tate James Page 0,121

away, I found the face of my rescuer.

And screamed.

But the fear was only momentary as the macabre, decaying clown's face flickered before my eyes like an out-of-tune television set and reformed as a face I knew. A face I fucking trusted now, despite all the secrets.

I threw my arms around his neck and pulled my whole body tight to him, as much as I was capable of with my shaking, pain-filled limbs. My chest heaved and gut-wrenching sobs wracked through me as I buried my face in his skin, inhaling the heady scent of oaky wood and subtle florals, with gasping breaths.

"Shhh, Kate, I've got you," he whispered in my ear, his huge hands stroking down my spine over and over, his arms holding me tight and totally erasing the crawling feeling of insects. "You're safe, I've got you," he whispered. "I'm never letting you go. Not ever."

Someone else was talking, but I wasn't listening. My head was still swimming, my balance completely shot and my skin hurting all over... I wasn't okay.

"...needs to be checked out," the other person was saying, and another pair of hands touched my shoulders. I howled at the touch and shrunk myself smaller in Archer's embrace, shuddering and crying. I didn't mean to, but I wasn't in full control of my own actions. He just held me tighter, though, quietly cursing out whoever had just touched me.

I don't know how long we stayed like that, sitting on the cold gravel of the parking lot, but after some time I heard another familiar voice.

"Hey, gorgeous," Steele murmured, crouching beside us and stroking my hair gently. I knew it was him, and I didn't freak out like before. He just had an unmistakable presence about him. "We need to get you to a hospital and get you checked out. Is that okay?"

I understood what he was saying, logically, but that sentient part of me was trapped in a cage of fear, hallucinations, nausea, and pain. Still, after a moment or two, I was able to force a tiny nod of acknowledgement, and Steele blew out a heavy sigh of relief.

"Okay, beautiful. Can you let go of Arch? The paramedics want to pop you in the ambulance."

This time I managed a headshake. Nope. I couldn't physically make myself release my death grip on Archer... If they tried to make me, then I was going to—

"Whoa, baby girl, calm down," Archer's voice rumbled in my ear. "Calm down, no one is going to force you to do anything." This seemed to be pointed at someone else, and I caught the low rumble of Kody's voice responding with some colorful cursing.

"Arch's right," Steele added, "but we need to get you to a hospital. Are you okay if he carries you?"

I didn't know. Was I? Or would the motion of being carried just remind me of whoever had grabbed me outside the bar and dumped me in that trunk? But then, I could feel the drugs still coursing through my veins, making me physically ill. I needed help, medical help, before I ended up with long-term side effects.

Or death.

The boys must have taken my lack of an answer as acceptance because the next thing I knew, both Archer and I were in the back of an ambulance. I still wouldn't let anyone else touch me, though, and for the duration of the drive, the paramedics were forced to check my vitals by giving Archer instructions for what to do.

Just as the ambulance slowed to a stop and one of the paramedics moved to open the doors, I started trembling uncontrollably. My teeth chattered and my spine went rigid in Archer's grip, and then... it all went black again.

35

When I woke up again, I was lying in a hospital bed with an IV line attached and an oxygen mask over my face. All three boys sat by my bed, but this time I didn't start screaming and accuse Archer of trying to kill me. This time, he'd been the one who’d saved me.

My mouth was drier than a desert, but Kody quickly offered me a cup of ice chips, which I gratefully accepted after tugging the oxygen mask off my face.

"What happened?" I asked when my mouth had regained a bit of moisture, but my voice came out husky and raw, giving me vague flashbacks of screaming. Lots of screaming.

"How are you feeling?" Steele asked, taking my hand that wasn't attached to an IV line and linking our fingers together. "You

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