Page 10 of The Demons We Hide

That violent rage from earlier and my current desire for release collides. A war is waged in my body and I’m not sure which side will win. The ceiling spins around and around.

“Fuck. Oh, fuck. Lex!” I gasp and pant and arch up as he hits that place deep inside me again and the balloon finally pops.

A scream is ripped from my throat and I dig my nails into the muscles of his shoulders as Lex drives into me harder than before. His whole body stills over mine a second later, but I can’t be still. I quiver and quake beneath him, the world going in and out of focus as pain and pleasure suck me into the darkest void and this time … I’m not sure if I’ll ever get free.

4

NOLAN

Hospitals are always cold. The frosty temperatures almost seem like an added cruelty to those forced to be here even if there’s a reason behind it. Still, I cross my arms and wish I’d brought a jacket.

Sound echoes up the near empty halls. Footsteps on the tiled floor. The shuffling of papers from the nurses’ station. A hacking cough from one of the other residents. A phone ringing. Though the noise is slightly muffled by the closed door of Gio’s room, I can hear it all.

Gio’s mom sits quietly in the corner, her eyes red rimmed as she knits something with shaking fingers. Every few minutes, she’ll glance up, eyes locking on her son as she practically vibrates with the need to see him awake. Gio’s eyes remain fixedly closed through a medically induced sleep that won’t let up at least for another day or so. A necessity, according to the doctor, to give the swelling in his brain enough time to lower on its own.

My hands twitch to reach for my nonexistent phone. I’d let my anger get the best of me and now I don’t even have that distraction. Dumbass.

At half past midnight, the door to the room opens, and I turn my head. My eyes only see the tall, foreboding figure in the doorway for a split second before I’m rising from the hard chair where I’ve been sitting vigil for hours now. When I’m on my feet, though, I see who it is, and my wariness only increases tenfold.

“Mr. Vargas.”

Gio’s dad stands in the doorway, a dark shadow of a beard across the lower half of his face and his body clothed in a pair of casual jeans, a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a pair of steel toed work boots.

Darrio Vargas nods to me. “Nolan.” His eyes go to where Gio lies, his face black and blue and various machines recording his heart rate, blood pressure, and a fuck load of other bodily functions I don’t want to think about.

“I thought you were out of town,” I say, not a question, but not an accusation either. I’ve never liked Darrio Vargas—not even when I’d decided to use him to my own gain.

“I was.” Darrio’s attention flickers to his wife. The soft sound of sniffling coming from her isn’t enough to make me glance back. When Darrio returns his gaze to me, he nods back to the open door. “Come,” he orders. “Take a walk with me.”

“Darrio.” Mrs. Vargas’ voice is full of pleading.

To his credit, Gio’s father doesn’t snarl at her as I half expect him to. We’re in a respectable place and he’s good at playing the good partner when it’s necessary. “Not now, Camila,” he says. “Look after your son.”

Your son. Not his.Fuck Darrio Vargas. If I could go back in time and take him out at the same time as my own father, I would. As it stands, now we need the fucker and I really wish we didn’t.

Still, I let the bastard lead me out into the hall. The door to Gio’s hospital room slides shut with a click behind me. I glance up the hall to the nurses’ station, and my fingers itch to reach for my nonexistent phone when I find it empty. I know that Lex will be watching the cameras, but I’d rather there be more people around than G’s mom while he’s this vulnerable. I wish I could send him a heads up. Getting a new device is my first priority at ensuring my boys’ safety.

“What do you want to discuss?” I ask.

Darrio shakes his head. “Not here.” Without waiting for me to make a suggestion, he turns and heads for the elevators.

Clenching my teeth against the need to take a swing at the back of his head, I follow. Minutes later, we’re exiting the elevator on the ground floor of the parking garage underneath the hospital and he's leading me over to a section with a big “smoking” sign painted on the concrete wall.

He waits until we’re within twenty feet of the sign before pulling out a pack of cigarettes and offering me one. Despite my irritation with the man, I take one and then borrow his lighter after he’s already lit his. I suck back a drag of nicotine and slowly exhale.

“Speak,” Darrio demands, and I do.

I explain the situation as we know it. I tell him all about Gio getting jumped outside of Cory’s gym and the damage he’d sustained. I take a bit longer on my one cig because of all the talking, but by the time I’m done, Darrio has already burned through his first and started on his second.

I stare at him, the half-smoked cig hanging between my fingers as I contemplate the thought that perhapshewas the one who was the cause of this. It takes considerable effort to bring the cigarette to my lips and suck back another lungful of nicotine instead of using the bright red end to burn a hole through his face.

Several more minutes go by in near silence, and Darrio lights up a third cigarette. “Did they leave a calling card?”

I tilt my head to the side. “You mean a sign of who they were?” I shake my head. “No. They were good. Covered their faces and hands. The cops pulled no fingerprints from the alley.” A shock considering it was a fucking alley. There should’ve been loads of prints—which means the assholes had prepared for their attack. They’d pre-cleaned the area. I’ll have to mention it to Lex and have him pull the CCTV records from earlier. Not that I’ll offer it to Darrio. Something about the man has always set me on edge—aside from his abusive nature towards Mrs. Vargas and his obvious disgust for his own offspring.

Darrio hums in the back of his throat and blows out a cloud of smoke. I count down the seconds, my eyes flicking back to the elevator bank. Each minute that passes feels like a lifetime where something could be happening to Gio. The hospital might be a public location, but at night it’s a veritable ghost town and the staff is always short a member or two.

“I’ll look into it from my end,” Darrio finally says, drawing my attention back to him. My upper lip itches to curl back, but I somehow manage to keep my expression civil.

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