His expression turns grim. “I was using it to put pressure on your wound until the ambulance arrived.”
“I’m in a hospital?”
Given the fluorescent lighting, the stench of antiseptic, and the obnoxious machines, the answer should be obvious, but my head is fuzzy. Nothing makes sense right now.
He nods. “Yeah, Jazz. You’re in the hospital.”
God, he looks like crap. His sandy hair is askew, dark circles are carved beneath his eyes, and his clothes are wrinkled.
Kingston links his pinkie finger with mine. “You scared the shit out of me.”
Huh? “Why?”
His brows pinch together. “Do you remember anything?”
“I—”
“Oh, good. You’re awake.” A woman walks into the room with a bright smile on her face. Kingston scoots his chair back a little as she approaches the bed I’m lying in. “How are you feeling? My name is Kristi, and I’m your nurse for a few more hours.”
Why do I feel like we’ve been through this before?
“Um...tired.” I shake my head slightly, trying to clear the fog. “Weird.”
“It’s perfectly normal to be disoriented when you’re coming out of anesthesia,” she assures me. “Do you remember how you got here? Or why you’re here?”
I think about it for a moment. I close my eyes as horrid memories flash through my brain. It’s the same thing I was dreaming about just now. I can still feel that sick bastard’s weight on top of me. His grubby hands touching my bare skin. The knife. Oh God, he put a knife in me! My hand moves to my stomach, just now noticing the extra weight. I open my eyes, examining the splint wrapped around my hand, going several inches up my arm.
“Your wrist is fractured,” the nurse answers my unspoken question.
I ignore Kingston’s penetrating gaze and focus on the woman before me.
Kristi removes her gloves and offers a smile. “I’m going to let the doctor know you’re awake. He’ll come in and explain everything.”
When she leaves, Kingston takes my hand.
I jerk back. “Don’t touch me.”
He pulls away, looking perplexed as he rakes his hands through his thick hair. “What? Why not?”
Find the truth, Jasmine.
“Because...” I swallow the lump in my throat. I know it’s not possible, but I swear I just heard my mom’s voice. “I don’t know. Just don’t touch me.”
I can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right. Kingston stares at me in confusion as I take a moment to piece everything together.
It takes considerable effort to level him with a glare when it finally hits me. “Where were you? Why did you have Bentley leave me all alone in that forest?”
Kingston frowns. “He was supposed to wait until I got there. I was right behind you two, but then I got held up.”
“By what?”
His jaw tics. “Peyton. She was drunk and belligerent. Then she started crying, causing an even bigger scene. Reed and I were dragging her back to her house, kicking and screaming. Literally.”
I fight the urge to scoff. “What convenient timing.”
“What the hell does that mean?” His hazel eyes narrow.
“You tell me.”
“What are you talking about?” His eyes widen. “You don’t think I had something to do with your attack, do you?”
Do I? I honestly have no clue what the right answer is.
I sigh, already feeling worn out by this conversation. “I don’t know what’s true anymore.”
Oh, you stupid, stupid girl. Who do you think led the lamb to the slaughter?
My attacker’s words are running on repeat. I don’t know who to believe. Kingston’s betrayed my trust more than once in the short time I’ve known him. How can I say with any certainty he wasn’t responsible for my attack?
Your precious boyfriend doesn’t give a shit about you. Neither do his friends. Sweet talking you out of your panties was all part of the plan.
Was it all some sick joke? Part of some master plan? But why? Just to shut me up about something I overheard? Or is it more? I rub my temples when my head starts throbbing.
“Kingston, get out.”
“Why would I do that? What the hell happened in that forest, Jazz?”
A soft knock precedes the nurse’s return. There’s a gray-haired man behind her—I’m guessing this is the doctor she was referring to earlier.
“Jasmine, I’m Dr. Yates. Are you feeling well enough to talk about your injuries?”
Kingston moves as the doc comes closer, taking a seat in the corner.
My eyes flash to Kingston. “Yes, but I don’t want him here.”
There's a moment of awkward silence before Dr. Yates replies. "Of course." He turns to the fuming man in the corner. "I'm going