Page 7 of Healed

He chuckled through his nose. “Not many people do. I don’t most days.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re living in hell,” I muttered.

“Again, you don’t know my old lady.”

“I know enough, and what I know, I don’t like.”

“She could say the same about you,” Dante said, his tone growing harder.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you like me insulting her? Well get used to it, Dante. She killed my brother. Why should I tolerate her?”

He just laughed.

“How is that fucking funny? Did she kill your brother? Because I think you would react differently if—”

“She did, actually, yes.”

My head snapped back in shock, the wind knocked out of my sails. “Rachel killed Macbeth?”

“Sure did,” he said casually. “Skinned him alive like a pro. And threw salt in the wounds. And then stabbed him in the dick.”

“But…”

That wasn’t possible. I’d heard the stories.

“But…?”

“We were told you killed him.”

He flicked his gaze in my direction. “Oh, no,” he drawled. “We lied to the Rough Riders? Now, why on earth would we do that?”

I fought the urge to pout at him. “Sarcasm is really unattractive, you know.”

“I didn’t ask you to suck my dick, so it’s all good.”

“I didn’t fucking offer.”

“Don’t worry about my attractiveness then, eh?” he chuckled again.

I was beginning to regret not getting in the fucking car with Rachel.

“I know what you’re thinking, and trust me—Rachel would have annoyed you more,” Dante said, shooting me a lopsided grin before pressing down on the accelerator and recklessly screeching around another corner.

“Doesn’t matter. I fucking hate you all.”

Chapter 4

Vienna

When I came around again, I was fairly certain my brain had swollen to twice the size of my skull. It was pressing against my bones, furious and angry, exploding in pain.

I could practically hear Rachel mocking me, telling me that there was plenty of room for my brain to grow. Which may have annoyed me any other time, but this time it brought me comfort.

Because it reminded me of what was out there, what was waiting for me should I get out of this.

It reminded me of everything I should have remembered before grief got the better of me and made me act stupid.

I could admit that to myself. I had been stupid.