I sit on the edge of the bed, using Dozer’s bed sheet to staunch the bleeding, until Griz returns with the first aid kit. I’m still shaking. My heart’s attempting to take flight, like a nest of dragonflies trying to break free from my chest.
What am I still doing here?I’m gambling with my life, playing a game I can’t win. It’s time to fold. Walk away.
I groan and close my eyes.This is not your secret garden. This is a dead end.
I thought Warner would be the death of me. It’s why I fought so hard to escape the handcuffs he kept me in while he was out of the house. His sadist tendencies had been escalating, and I knew if I didn’t get away, he’d take the only thing I had left. My life.
Mav, in his drunken haze, nearly finished the job for him. Because all he sees is his past. His own pain. His own misery. Of the two personalities waging a war inside him—the old him is losing. The man Dana created when she left—is winning.
I scramble up and go to the closet, dropping the sheet in the process. I find a gym bag. I shove all the clothes Lily stole and bought for me into the bag. I take the cash I’ve earned, and bend down to push it into my sock before slipping my tennis shoes on. All the while, I’m mentally planning my escape.
I hear the door swing open and my heart lodges in my throat. A few seconds later, Griz stands in the closet doorway. His eyes fall on the bag in my hands. “Where you goin’, sweetheart?”
“Away.”
He approaches me cautiously.
I flinch and draw back.
“Shhh . . . I’m not gonna hurt ya,” he says in a placating tone. He holds up his hands and moves steadily closer. “Just let me patch you up. I got somethin’ to say. Hear me out before you go doin’ what I think you’re gonna do.” He reaches forward and takes the bag from my hand. “If you wanna leave after I’ve said my piece, you go right ahead. You got every right to do that.”
He walks back into the room.
I don’t know how much time passes, but it’s at least ten minutes before I cautiously exit the closet. Griz sits at the end of the bed with my bag by his foot on the floor. Hepats the spot next to him. “C’mon, let me take a look at that slice on your neck.”
I sit and say, “It won’t change anything.”
He turns toward me, opens the first aid kit, and searches through it, pulling out items and placing them on the bed. “What’s that?”
“Whatever it is you’re going to say, it won’t change anything.”
“Maybe it won’t. But this old man has some skills with words. And you gotta get a bandage on that neck anyhow. So, how about instead of starin’ at this sourpuss face while I patch you up, I’ll talk and you can listen to my sexy voice instead.” The skin near his eyes crinkles.
Against my will, I feel a small tug on my heartstrings.
His movements are slow and careful. He holds the cloth with medicine on it up for me to see for a moment before he touches me. Then he pinches my chin and gradually lifts it to turn my head.
“Motherfucker is gonna get another taste of my fist,” he mutters under his breath. “It’s not deep, but it might scar.” I hiss, because the cut burns as he disinfects it. He grumbles more threats and inspects the damage more closely. Then he dabs the cut with something that makes it sting yet again.
I let out a small gasp of air. “I thought you were going to distract me with your sexy voice?”
He chuckles.
“I know what you’re thinkin’, sugar. That you’re not safe, ‘cause you think he’s gonna come after you again. I’m tellin’ you now, that won’t happen. Givin’ you my word. Somethin’ that’s ironclad. Mav’s gonna change his tune, even if I have to change it for him.”
He coats the cut with some liquid using a Q-tip.
“In no time you’ve warmed up to the people here and them to you. I’ve never fuckin’ seen somethin’ like that happen so fast. You fit here, sweetheart. And you got a lot of people here that want you here, whether Mav does or not. Shit, you got grown ass men settin’ alarm clocks just so they don’t miss out on your food and your pretty face each mornin’. Every last one of ’em is gonna kick the shit out of Ricky Boy if you disappear on us. You’ll be signin’ his death warrant.”
He doesn’t really mean that, right? My chest is tight with emotion as his words funnel through me.
“Are you trying to guilt me into staying?”
He points at himself. “Me?” The side of his mouth curls up. “Honey, I’ll use whatever I got in my arsenal that’ll get you to stay. My sourpuss face, my sexy voice. Well, maybe not this smokin’ body.” He full out laughs. “But you get the picture.”
He places gauze over the cut and starts taping it to my skin.
“Plus a pretty little thing like you ain’t safe out there. Not alone. Here, you got a chance. A good one. You have some friends. Lily. And you got some mean ass men lookin’ out for ya. Me. Dozer. It could be more than that. But you leave. You’re never gonna know.”