Page 35 of G.O.D.S Omnibus

Marlow laughs. “You don’t have a choice. The Myers are throwing a dinner party when they get back. Trust me when I say they are way too interesting to miss.”

Marlow and I talk more about this dinner party and why they are so entertaining while we head to the hospital to see Case. Apparently, Mrs Myers is the top of the food chain, so if you get an invite, you’re a somebody. But Marlow says that there is always a scandal. Last year, one couple invited had a champagne-flute-throwing fight when the wife found out her husband was sleeping with another couple’s daughter. All he recommends is getting wasted beforehand, and the entertainment will find us. Sounds like my kind of party, if I’m being honest. A bunch of rich assholes tearing down their own kingdoms with their own misgivings.

Marlow drops me off at the entrance of what looks to be a small private hospital. He tells me to press the buzzer, give my name, and I will be escorted to Case. I don’t argue, or even ask why he isn’t coming in.

After being buzzed inside, a middle-aged gentleman in a white coat takes me to Case’s room. Laughn is sprawled over a recliner in the corner, while Case is sitting on the bed.

“I’m not sorry I went to that party,” I start, stepping into the room.

Both sets of eyes look my way. Laughn jumps up out of his seat, and in one big stride, stands in front of me.

“Baby, you will be the death of me, and I can’t wait for the epic ride.” He licks my cheek, steps around me, and leaves the room.

Any of the other guys and that would be weird, but Laughn is in a class of his own. I think if you looked up the word “weird” in the dictionary, his picture would be there.

“You should be sorry,” Case says from the bed, his head down, looking at the floor.

I close the distance between us and take a seat next to him on his bed.

“You were in so much more danger than I can tell you,” he continues in a low voice. “Do you really think we would risk injury to ourselves for nothing? We went in knowing it was the six of us against every fucker at that party. You need to start to uncover what is happening around you.”

I slide off the bed, furious that I’m in the dark about so much. “You say I’m in danger but won’t tell me why. If It’s such a huge deal... just fucking tell me. I am looking around more than you know and nothing makes sense.”

“Because in your story, yourfriend”—he uses air quotes when he says friend—“is the hero, and maybe you are looking at everything from the wrong angle.”

“What the fuck does that even mean? What do you all know about Trace that I don’t? I swear on my life, if anyone knows where he is, I will burn your house down while you sleep and piss on your grave. Heismy fucking hero.”

I look away from Case. Why is everyone so insistent on turning me against Trace? They don’t even know him. I feel like I have been shoved into this fake life and nothing around me is real anymore.

A hand squeezes my shoulder. “What are you thinking about?”

I don’t expect an apology. These guys seem to only say what they mean—no words are wasted.

“Have you ever had the feeling your life wasn’t yours? That nothing ever seems to make sense?”

I hate crying; crying is a weakness. But I can’t help it... I feel lost and so broken. While I know I shouldn’t have got my hopes up, I really thought that stupid note was from Trace. Figuring it out is a priority, but I don’t know where to start when nothing makes any fucking sense.

Case spins me to face him, and I stare into his eyes. Being the shortest of all the guys, I don’t have to strain my neck. He takes my face in his hands, wiping the tears from my cheeks. For a moment, neither of us speaks, the tension between us undeniable. I never take my focus off him, and as he leans forward, butterflies hit my stomach. Being touched like this is a foreign feeling to me and living in the moment with Case is nice. His lips gently touch mine and I can feel the pulse in my neck thumping away.

“You need to be careful. Your walls are starting to slip,” he whispers against my lips, destroying the moment we were having. I push against his chest, forcing him to take a step back, a smile plastered on his face. “Better go home and put your makeup on, so your walls go back up.”

My mouth opens to argue, but an eery sense of déjà vu washes over me—like he has said that to me before, or someone has. It is so clear in my mind—almost like it was a memory.

I need to find someone I can trust.

I need to admit I need help.

It can’t be Sinclair. She is nice enough, but I get a vibe from her that something is off; maybe it’s just teenage jealousy. Danika and Joshua, I couldn’t say I would put my secrets in their hands, so that leaves Jimmie as my only option.

A throat clears from behind us. “Sorry to intrude, but you are free to go.”

Chapter Thirteen

Jolie

Wiping the makeup from my face, I take off my mask for the night. I’m still thrown by the comment that Case made yesterday. I’m positive I have heard it before, but just can’t place it.

My reflection stares back at me in the mirror, now free of bruises and scratches from the night I was kidnapped. I’m no closer to finding out who the masked men were—although I’m almost positive it was the guys.

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