Page 81 of Minding the Minotaur
“Tomorrow.”
“Then can I go home?”
The doctor smiles. “We’ll make that decision once we get the results back.”
I pin an answering smile to my face as he leaves, then slump back onto the pillows, trying not to hyperventilate. Arlo and I had just made love when I blacked out. What if they’d found evidence of that? What if they examined me internally while I was unconscious? I find myself praying to all the Labyrinth deities.
Sweet gods and goddesses, they must not link me to Arlo.
For the millionth time, I rack my brains on how to get back to him without them tracking me.
I’ve heard nothing from Jax, not a word.
What if I can never get back there? What if I never see Arlo again?
My heart feels like it’s cracking into pieces. I take a deep breath and try to pull myself together.
I need to be strong.
I need to do whatever I can to get out of here. And then trust that Jax will take me back to the Labyrinth.
And Arlo.
ARLO
We lounge around in the disheveled mess of the snug—me, Otis, and Jax.
The carpet is still scrunched in a heap, there’s a chair overturned, and the lamp has been knocked off a side table. Jax lolls lazily in an armchair, one long leg swinging over the side. I’ve thrown myself lengthways on the sofa, and Otis is leaning his butt on the edge of the desk, his thick fingers curled tight around the edges.
I don’t think he’s forgiven me for swinging a punch.
But he sure gave as good as he got.
As for Jax, he’s a fucking useless peacemaker. He’s been smirking to himself ever since he arrived.
Which makes me want to punchhim. Land a shiner on one of those bright green eyes. Turn it black and blue.
But I have enough sense to know that won’t help my cause. I need him to tell me what he knows about Sammy, which probably means I should at least be polite to him.
Besides, I’ve sunk low today, back to my bullish past, when karate kicks and laying punches were the norm. And, probably because I haven’t eaten, I’m hangry and clumsy. Normally that would be a blow to my ego, but my ego is nonexistent right now.
I don’t care about anything since I’ve lost my beloved human.
“So,” I drawl, trying to sound casual because I sense Jaxwill play me if he thinks I’m desperate, like a cat plays a mouse. “Any news on my minder’s health?”
“That’s why I’m here,” Jax says. His face gives nothing away, but my heart hammers loud enough to bridge the silence.
I wish he’d hurry up. But he takes a rolled-up cigarette from behind his ear and taps it on his knee.
“No smoking, Jax,” Otis growls.
He puts it back behind his ear. “She’s woken up.”
“Oh fuck, oh hallelujah!” I completely lose my cool and fall off the sofa in relief. “When did she come to?” I look up at Jax, whose buckled boot is now near enough to my snout to kick me if he chose.
Luckily, he doesn’t.
“This morning.”
