Page 166 of Endless Anger
Lucy lets out a long, shaky breath as I stand back up. I push some hair behind her ear, noting the missing piercing in her lobe, which has been slightly torn.
She pouts. “I didn’t get to actually kill anyone.”
“You don’t want that burden, pup.”
“How come it’s okay foryouthen?”
“Because I don’t care about me. My conscience has been dead for a long time.” I cup her cheek, tilting her head. “But you? I love that yours is free. I don’t want to fucking change a thing about you.”
She leans into my touch. “Sounds an awful lot like a love confession, Asher Blake Anderson.”
I grin. “Baby, I’ve loved you my entire life. Seems like you have some catching up to do.”
“Okay, quit trying to make us grandparents, and get the hell over here,” Alistair snaps.
Dad’s propped up against the wall, holding his coat to his shoulder. Relief floods me at the sight of him, and then again when I see Foxe’s eyes are open, albeit pretty blank.
“We’ve got to get these two out of here,” Alistair says. “Asher, you and I will shoulder Foxe, and Lucy can walk with your dad. The bleeding is stabilized. We think it’s a shallow wound but can’t be sure until we have better light. And EMTs, probably.”
“Not like I’m a fucking doctor,” Dad mutters, getting to his feet.
As Alistair and I maneuver Foxe from the table, I try not to focus much on the fact that he doesn’t make a single sound. Not of pain or to crack a joke or anything.
It’s unnerving.
What the fuck did they do to him?
I pause once Foxe is situated between Alistair and me, noting the metal table he was just strapped to has three names written in big block letters in blood.
Quincy.
Noelle.
Asher.
And mine is the only one marked out.
47
LUCY
Asher standsin the doorway of the hotel suite, hands in his pockets.
Dad wanted all of us to head back to Aplana Island, but I refuse to leave before Foxe is in recovery, and Asher agreed. My father booked us all rooms and then disappeared with Aurora and Muna to take care of things back at Avernia.
Whatever thosethingsare, I don’t know and didn’t ask. For once, I’m going to let him take care of it.
I’m wearing a change of clothes that Aurora brought—a fleece pajama short and tank top set—and clutching the hotel blankets like a life raft. I took my regular meds and the painkillers Dad grabbed from my dorm, but still there’s a humming in my body that only ever seems to come alive when Asher’s around.
This is the first I’ve seen of him since last night.
He’s cleaned up, hair dripping likely from a shower, and I can’t stop staring at him—his warm brown eyes, hard as topaz as he casts his gaze around the dull room. The slant of his jaw, the wet strands of hair sticking to his forehead, and the aura that just pulses around him.
Even though I can tell he’s still angry, I know I’m safe with him here.
I can breathe. Relax my jaw and unclench my muscles.
Maybe even sleep.
