Page 116 of Twisted Control

I like men my father absolutely despises.

And I think I’m done apologizing for that.

Whatever happens next, Drew and I will figure it out together.

For the first time in my life, the future doesn’t feel like something I have to perform.

It feels like something real. Something messy, uncertain, and entirely mine.

37

LEVI

The drugs make everything hazy, but at least they kill the pain.

I’m floating somewhere between sleep and consciousness when I hear his voice.

“…said it a long time ago. Despite all our differences, I’ve got nothing but respect for you. I hope you know that.”

My eyes flutter open.

Drew stands beside my hospital bed.

I don’t think. I just react.

My arm shoots out, fingers aiming for his throat. He leans back quickly, just out of reach.

I blink hard.

When my eyes open, the room is empty. No Drew. Just the quiet beep of machines and the sterile smell of the hospital room.

Of course he wasn’t here. The painkillers are turning me into a hallucinating mess.

An inch to the right and that prick would’ve killed me. Instead, he left me bleeding out on the fucking floor. All over a woman.

No surprises there, I guess. Drew always did think with his cock first.

And I don’t have health insurance. He knows that. He should have just killed me.

Now I’m stuck in this bed, my left arm almost useless. The doctors say the nerve damage might be permanent. I try to squeeze my hand into a fist and nothing happens. My fingers just curl halfway like broken claws.

Great. Just great. How the hell am I supposed to make an honest living now?

A nurse comes in. They keep fussing over me. This one—pretty, dark-haired, early thirties—keeps finding excuses to visit me. She smiles too much, lingers too long when she checks my vitals.

She leans over me now to fluff my pillow, her perfume sweet and floral.

“You’re looking a little better today,” she says softly, adjusting the blanket over my chest. “Need anything? Water? Another pillow? …A sponge bath?”

“No,” I mutter, staring at the empty spot where Drew had been in my head. “I’m good.”

I’ve never been so clean in my life. These nurses are horny as hell. They keep insisting on giving me sponge baths. They take their sweet time sliding their hands over my chest and down my arms, lingering around my abs like it’s their favorite part of the job. The looks they give me are straight-up filthy—like they’re hoping I’ll ask for a happy ending.

I’m not interested. My cock is the last thing on my mind right now.

“Your brother’s playing in the garden. I’m keeping an eye on him,” she says, giving me that same flirty smile they all seem to have perfected.

“Thanks,” I say.