Long Way Home Page 27

“Violet...” Mom hesitates. “I know you answered earlier, when the nurses admitted you, but...” Mom stands, the long strands of her braid unraveling. “Are you sure nothing happened to you? Nothing that you want to tell me about?”

I blink and look down at my bruised body and my now immobilized knee. It’s in some sort of brace and the doctor talked to Mom about visiting a specialist. I raise my eyebrows. Pretty obvious something happened to me.

Mom touches the end of the hospital bed as if it’s a protective shield between her and me. She doesn’t touch me. Just the bed. “Did any man... Did anyone... Because if so, there are tests that should be run and...things that should happen.”

My stomach drops. It was bad enough to answer the questions the nurse asked when it was just me and her and she was helping me out of my clothes. It was odd and awkward then. With Mom it’s another level of hell. I shake my head no.

A knock on the door and I suck in a breath. Maybe it’s Chevy. Mom answers and after a brief exchange she opens the door wider and Eli walks in. Rage locks my muscles.

Eli.

I hate him. Hate him so much. I hate his club. I hate the way he struts in here like he belongs, like he has the right to care. If it wasn’t for his stupid club, I wouldn’t have been kidnapped. If it wasn’t for his stupid personal war with the head of the Riot, they wouldn’t be using me to hurt him and they wouldn’t be threatening my family.

“Hey, Violet.” Eli stops near the edge of the bed, and unlike Mom, he touches me, my ankle, and I jerk. He immediately lifts his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Little too late for that.

“Is your ankle hurting, too?”

No pain right now. It’s the meds, but everything will hurt in the morning.

“Everyone’s been asking about you. You’ve got an entire hallway and waiting room full of guys waiting to do your bidding. Just say the word, and any of us will do or get whatever your heart desires.”

Mom comes up beside him and my muscles twitch when she touches his arm. Touches him. I turn away, because since Dad died, I’ve been unworthy of touch.

“The doctor said she’s dehydrated, bruised, and that there’s damage to her knee. I’m worried. They’ve mentioned surgery.”

Weird how important surgery seems, but how no one’s mentioned that to me.

“She keeps trying to get out of bed. God only knows where she thinks she’s going. The nurse told Violet to push the button if she needed to use the restroom and Violet seemed to understand, so I don’t have a clue what she’s doing.”

Even though Mom’s talking, Eli keeps his eyes on me and I don’t like that he watches me so intently. My thoughts have been tough to capture, but what if he’s able to read me and he knows what I’ve been assigned to do?

“She’s still not talking,” Mom whispers.

“But I bet her hearing still works,” he responds.

The right side of my mouth turns up and Eli almost smiles along with me. A crinkling near his eyes, a small spark, but his expression then falls near black with seriousness.

I agree. This entire scenario is as serious as a severed artery.

“Are you purposely ignoring me?” Mom pushes down the sleeves of her red sweater. “Because if so, that’s childish. I’ve been worried sick—”

My forehead furrows. The thrumming. It grows louder and causes a slashing pain in my head.

“She’s not ignoring us,” Eli says, and Mom’s guilt trip magically vanishes.

Now it’s his turn to lower his voice like I can’t hear. “Just talked to Pigpen. Chevy’s confirmed it’s been a complicated few hours for her. More than we originally thought.”

The air catches in my throat. Chevy.

“Complicated?” Mom’s hand goes to her chest like the word crushes her lungs. “Complicated how?”

“I’ll tell you in the hallway. I’d like to talk to you and Nina at the same time. An opportunity for all of us to get on the same page.”

Eli angles for the door and I grab his wrist. He knows about Chevy. Eli turns back to me, studies my face, then the worry in his expression fades. Sort of like he had spent the past few hours trying to solve a math problem, but then the answer appeared in a heavenly glow along with a choir of angels.

“Chevy’s okay,” he says like that’s a secret between us. “He’s tough. Just like you.”

He’s okay. That’s a start. I drop Eli’s wrist and calculate how I can find him without Mom freaking out.

“Want to see him?” Eli asks.

Yes.

Eli does a quick scan of the IV leading from me to the machines. A tug of his ear and he sweeps me up into his arms. Multiple hospital sheets and all.

“What are you doing?” Mom demands, but I know and approve. “Eli, her knee. Be careful of her knee!”

“Do me a favor, Jenny, and grab that IV machine.”

And we’re moving. Eli kicks at the closed door of my room as a knock and the door is immediately opened by Hook. He’s Razor’s dad and my mind slowly feels like it’s stretching after being asleep.

Razor.

Oz.

My best friends. My brothers.

I want to see them. Want to figure out if being here is a dream. My head swivels as if I can snap a panoramic picture. Along the hallway and the nurses’ station, there are plenty of men from the club, but not Oz, not Razor.