Ruthless Kings - Laura Lee Page 0,1

strongest person I know.”

My mother shakes her head, tears streaming down her face. “I’m not. I was terrified they’d take you away from me, so I kept their secrets.”

“Mom, what are you talking about? Who’s keeping secrets? What are they hiding?”

“Everything.” She kisses the tips of her fingers before holding them out in my direction. “It’s time to go back now. I love you, my sweet flower. Always.”

“Significant blood found on the scene.”

I glance around again, trying to find the owner of the disembodied voice. “Do you hear that?”

My eyes widen when my mom steps onto the metal railing, climbing up to the top bar.

What is she doing?

I start running toward her, wondering how she got so far away.

“Wait!” I say as she begins to wobble. “Mom, get down from there! You’re about to fall!”

“Unconscious...Treated for hypovolemic shock.”

She stretches her arms out wide and glances over her shoulder. “Wake up, Jasmine. It’s time to find the truth.”

"Mom, don't do it!"

By the time I get to the railing, I'm too late. She disappeared. I don't even think about it; I dive in after her, down into the water below. Darkness instantly washes over me. My limbs are too heavy to move. My chest feels like there’s an anvil sitting on top of it, crushing my lungs. Is this what drowning feels like?

Beep...

Beep...

Beep...

Where is that annoying sound coming from? Awareness is slowly seeping in, and the first thing that registers beyond the rhythmic beeping is the pain.

So. Much. Fucking. Pain.

My head is pounding. My throat protests as I attempt to swallow. Every muscle in my body aches as if I just went a few dozen rounds in an octagon.

I wince when warm fingers wrap around mine.

“She needs more pain meds,” a deep voice barks.

Is that Kingston?

Why is someone playing the drums? I think I groan. I make a concerted effort to open my eyes and find a tall blonde wearing scrubs with pictures of little books on them. She's doing something that makes the godawful noise go away. Am I in a hospital?

“Hi, Jasmine. I’m Kristi, your nurse for the day. How are you feeling?”

“Hurts.” It’s difficult to speak. My tongue is sticking to the roof of my mouth.

Kristi reaches behind me, and next thing I know, a straw is pressed against my lips. “Take small sips...this should help a bit.”

I startle when something squeezes my bicep.

She smiles softly. “Try to hold still. It’s taking your blood pressure.”

I wait for the machine to do its thing while she taps her fingers on a nearby keyboard. “On a scale of one to ten, with ten being unimaginable, how would you rate your pain?”

“Nine, maybe?” My voice is so scratchy, I hardly recognize it.

I think I doze off for a second because now the nurse is by my side, uncapping a needle and injecting something into my IV line. “It’s time for another dose of morphine. This should make you feel much better in no time.”

That moment can’t come soon enough. I’ve never felt pain like this before.

“Thank you.” I fade in and out as the lady finishes checking my vitals. Or at least that’s what I think she’s doing. “Need to...save...my mom...ocean...so tired.”

“That’s normal,” Kristi says. “You’ve been through quite an ordeal. You get some more rest, and I’ll be back to check on you later.”

“’Kay,” I mumble.

“Sleep, baby.” The guy with the rumbly voice is back, pressing his lips against my forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“OH, SWEETHEART, WE like it when they run. It makes catching our prey much more satisfying.”

The other one laughs, the sound of their amusement chilling me to the bones. Who are these twisted fucks? And seriously, where the hell is Kingston? I almost trip in my flip-flops, so I kick them off, running barefoot now. The sticks covering the forest floor scrape my skin, but I barely feel the pain because I’m too terrified to think of anything but escape.

“Help!” I scream. “Somebody fucking help me!”

I gasp, opening my eyes, only to slam them shut again when I’m assaulted by brightness.

“Lights,” I croak.

“Turn down those fucking lights!” Softening his tone, he adds, “Take it easy, Jazz. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Kingston? Where did he come from?

My eyelids flutter open, thankful the lights have been dimmed. My head shifts in the direction of the familiar voice. It is Kingston.

“What are you wearing?”

Kingston looks down at the green scrub top covering his torso. “Someone in the ER gave it to me. The shirt I was wearing was...stained.”