Chapter 2 #2
“Sunday night,” I say. “I called you the second I received the text from the unknown number. Some kid answered your phone—Pierre?”
With a slight tilt of his head, Greedy blunders. “This past Sunday?”
“Yes, this past Sunday. Three days ago. When I called your number and very clearly said ‘where the fuck is my girl?’”
“Huh.” Pulling out his phone, he taps the screen and scrolls. When his eyes lift to meet mine, he offers a sympathetic shrug.
“I see your name here now,” he flashes the screen in my direction, “but Pierre didn’t mention it. It’s Shore Week, bro. He probably assumed you were trying to pull a prank of your own.”
“Bullshit,” I bite out.
“Bible,” Greedy counters, holding up both hands as if he’s sharing the gospel truth.
Asshole wouldn’t admit to knowingly keeping her from me anyway.
Changing course, I try a different line of questioning.
“So if you had nothing to do with this, and you say the people involved are going to pay, then where are they now?”
He meets my gaze, lifting both brows. Likely ready to play dumb or argue. That’s been his MO so far today. Deny. Deflect. Keep the upper hand. Don’t give anything away.
A satisfied smirk creeps across his face. “Waiting for their captain to come dish out a punishment suitable for the crime. They’ve been ordered to stay in the field house, and they’ve been there since Monday.”
His response shocks the shit out of me.
A wider smirk blooms across his face, and I have to resist the urge to match it with my own.
“What they did was wrong, no matter who she is.” He waves a hand at the door to Josephine’s room.
“We aren’t dealing with the brightest bulbs in the South Chapel locker room here.
If I had to wager, I’d guess they weren’t of sound mind, though that’s no excuse.
They will pay. I’ll make sure of it, and I’ll even extend the invitation your way when the time comes. ”
Satisfied, I nod, but before I can ask my next question, he continues.
“What they did was wrong, but Joze's reaction was… intense. Too intense.”
Frowning, Greedy scrutinizes me, obviously questioning why this ordeal was so much heavier and overwhelming than it should have been. In my periphery, Hunter’s doing the same. I can practically feel her eyes boring into the side of my head.
I don’t have the answers they seek. I don’t know the what, but I do know there’s something in Josephine’s past that keeps her alert and constantly on edge.
She practically unraveled in front of me in the hotel room at the last away game.
If her fight-or-flight response kicked in when they took her, and her brain thought she was in actual danger…
“Where is she?”
My head snaps up and my back stiffens as Kylian flies down the hall. He’s the leanest of us by far, but right now he’s larger than life.
His hair is sticking up on end. His glasses are sliding off his nose. He’s a man on the edge.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” he demands as he barrels into my space, his eyes flitting from Greedy to me, then back to Greedy again.
The rage radiating off him is so palpable I can taste it.
“You three are just out here in the hall doing what? Having a fucking tea party?” Beside me, he tenses even further and lunges forward.
I whirl around fast enough to catch his fist, but barely. Bracing one arm across his shoulders, I hold on tight as he bucks and thrashes. It takes a surprising amount of strength to restrain him.
“Chill the fuck out, Kyl.”
“No,” he counters, rocking back and forth against my hold. “Fuck no! Let me go!”
Locke and Kendrick said it was bad, but Jesus. This is on another level.
A sharp elbow up and under my ribs knocks me off balance and loosens my grip. The move gives him the second of freedom he needs to spin out of my hold, duck behind my back, and reach for the door I haven’t even had a chance to confirm belongs to her.
He’s through it one second later.
Frozen, I look from the open door to Hunter and Greedy—who are also stunned and unmoving—then back again.
There’s no point holding court in the hallway now. Not with the door wide open. And although I’ve kept my panic reined in tight, the uneasiness rolling off Kylian matches the sense of dread settled in my gut.
I won’t be okay until I see her, either.
Phone still in hand, I shoot off a quick text, this time to Locke alone. He’s best equipped to navigate this kind of scenario.He’HE
Cap: Kylian just showed up. I need backup. Now. Third floor, room 3112.
Locke: In the parking garage
Wordlessly, I lumber to the door and hold it open for Hunter. Greedy also ducks under my arm—fucker—with a hand resting on the small of his stepsister’s back.
I follow, my ears prickling at the unmistakable softness in Kylian’s voice.
Fuck. Is he trying to wake her up?
Ready to demand he let her rest, I grasp his arm, but before I can yank him away, the thin hospital bed blanket rustles. She sits up, squinting against the dim glow of the computer monitors.
Blinking, Josephine focuses on me, not a hint of recognition in her expression. Almost as if she’s in a dream state. She blinks again, then yawns, coming to a bit more.
On her next breath, her eyes grow wide and her jaw goes rigid.
She looks at me again, then to Kylian, her eyes darting between us as if she isn’t sure who we are or why we’re here. Finally, I swear I see a flame of recognition ignite in her gray-blue eyes. It’s fragile and tentative, but it’s there.
A croak of a whisper breaks the silence.
“Greedy… where’s Greedy?”
Her voice breaks when she says his name a second time, and I swear to god my chest cracks open.
“I’m here, Joze,” he murmurs, stepping toward the bed as if he belongs by her side.
I keep my disdain locked down and buried.
Kylian lets his rage.
“Get away from her,” he snarls, throwing an elbow out in front of Greedy to wedge himself between the asshole’s hovering form and Josephine’s bed. “Don’t you fucking touch her.”
The slightest whimper escapes our girl, dragging my attention back to her. She looks drained, both physically and emotionally. Her eyes swim with exhaustion, and that recognition that ignited a moment ago is now a barely there flicker on the verge of being snuffed out.
“Calm your boy,” Greedy shoots at me, perching on the end of Josephine’s bed. He covers her hand with his while simultaneously holding out his other arm as if he can block Kylian’s verbal assault with physical force.
“Jo! Jo, look at me.” Kylian’s desperate, his voice raspy and full of agony.
She’s not fully with it right now. She’s awake, but she’s not rested or clear-headed. If she’s still in survival mode… or just trying to cope…
“Jo.”
It’s a broken whisper, one filled with frustration and defeat.
Her eyes fill with unshed tears as she slow blinks, then refocuses on Greedy.
The room is buzzing with tension and resistance as we each stand our ground.
Finally, Hunter speaks up and ends the stand-off.
“Let’s give her a minute. Could you imagine being woken from a drug-induced sleep to a room full of arguing football players?
” She lets out an uncomfortable laugh in a too-obvious attempt to lighten the mood.
Then, to me, she adds, “Go. He’s not helping, and she’s not going anywhere.
You’ve seen her and you know she’s okay. I’ll stay with them.”
Dammit. I don’t want to leave her. I just fucking got here. But Hunter’s right. Kylian can’t cope. And I need to do what’s best for him right now.
A quick glance back at Josephine bolsters that decision. Right now, I’m not what she needs. Her eyes are locked on Greedy’s. He’s murmuring words I can’t hear, and she’s nodding along.
She’s not smiling, which selfishly soothes my ego. But she’s not looking at him with disdain or panic, either.
Shaking my head, I lay down my defenses and give up the fight. For now.
Cuffing Kylian on the back of the neck, I lead him toward the door. “Come on. The guys are waiting for an update.” Before he can protest, I add, “We’ll come back in one hour. One hour to cool down and regroup. Then we’ll figure out what’s next.”
I flick my gaze to Hunter. She nods, clearly aware that my warning is for her as much as for him. I don’t bother looking back at Josephine. I’m not interested in witnessing any more of the scene. Of the way Greedy is comforting her. Of the reminder that I’m not what she wants or needs.
I march forward and keep my eyes locked in on Kylian’s head. If I look back now, I won’t find the resolve to walk out the door.