Page 74 of Making Choices

As soon as Sander is out of sight, I suck my bottom lip into my mouth and roll my teeth over it. Despite breathing through my nose to steady myself, my hand still shakes when I tug the bottom of Slash’s T-shirt from between my legs and slowly part my thighs. The blood that freaked my twin out has pooled beneath me, damping the fabric of my borrowed boxer-briefs and staining my skin.

“Damn,” I whisper to myself. “What a goddamn mess.”

My legs are unsteady as I gingerly stand, but I don’t have the time to see if I can walk because Charlie and Crystal come bounding into Slash’s room with their arms full of provisions and concern etched in their expressions.

“Lean on me,” Crystal demands after she drops the pile of clothes she’s carrying onto Slash’s bed. She pulls my arm around her shoulders and hooks her hand around my waist. “We’ll get you washed up, mo ulaidh bheag.”

As the two women fuss over me, and I allow myself to relax in their capable hands, I can’t help but worry that Zeke is out there, somewhere, on his own without the same support. I can only imagine how badly he’s taken the news. He’ll be mindless from the urge to destroy whoever he can find to blame for our latest tragedy.

I’ve already killed the main culprit.

Still, he’ll need someone to blame to mollify his own feelings of failure.

Yet I know he’ll never lash out at me for my part in this disaster.

No matter how much I am to blame.

“Has Zeke come back?” I ask. Crystal clucks her tongue while she tests the temperature of the water in the shower, so I turn my attention to my stepmother. “Have you seen him?”

“Lilianna,” she ventures in a brittle tone. Her gaze darts around the bathroom, never meeting mine. “Let’s concentrate on you for now.”

After allowing them to shepherd me under the warm cascade, I try to press the point. “I need to see him.”

“I’m sure he’ll come as soon as he’s able,” Crystal assures me. When I attempt to speak again, she passes me a soapy washcloth. “Now, hush with the questions, little Cherub. Getting you comfortable is our priority, not worrying about the coming and goings of the Shamrocks.”

Knowing when I’m beaten, I close my mouth.

It’s clear I won’t be getting any answers out of these two.

Even if seeing Zeke is the only thing that would truly comfort me right now.

19

SLASH

For the past forty-five minutes, Sander’s been glowering at me. His intense gaze threatens to bore holes in the side of my head as I studiously avoid meeting his eyes. I can feel his irritation increasing to the point where the hair on the back of my neck is vertical and goosebumps are prickling over my skin.

Cherub’s twin has something to get off his chest.

No doubt it has something to do with his sister being in my bed.

Well, boo fucking hoo for him.

Despite my attack of guilt last night, I do not regret spending the dark hours holding her in Venom’s absence.

“I’m gonna head out.” Wyatt clasps my hand and pulls me into his chest. The softest of the Mayberry children, possibly because he was just old enough to remember his mother, but not mature enough to understand what he lost when she died, I try my best to treat him with kid gloves. We all do. He’s prone to flight at the slightest sign of aggression. Shaky. Quiet and reflective. Always in need of a soft place to land. So, after patting him on the back, I curl my fingers around his nape and pull his forehead to my shoulder.

He leans on me and sighs.

Tamping down on my own doubts, I tell him, “Shit’ll sort itself out.”

“I dunno about that.” Wyatt shifts from foot to foot but doesn’t try to move away from me. Blowing out a breath, he asks, “Charlie’s great and all, but Cherub’s the closest thing I have to a mum. Look after her, please?”

“Always.”

“Do you know where Venom went?” His question is mumbled so only I can hear. “Needa bring him back ‘fore she realises he’s ditched her.”

Stepping away from him, I try my best to school my features into something resembling concern. “Think your time’d be better spent helpin’ everyone search for Toker.”

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