Chapter 10
After school, Nic and I are both exhausted with the day. Dr. Johnston always gives the longest, rambling lectures known to man. After I’ve yawned for the third time on the way to the car, Nic looks at me over his shoulder, “Want to stop and grab coffee on the way back?”
I frown. This is about the time he needed to pick Ava up the day we met, and it’s a new week, so Vin should have custody. “Do we need to pick up Ava?”
Nic grins, turning to walk backwards, “Nope. She has a student council meeting after school, so Vin will get her on his way home from work.”
I shrug. I could really use a cup of caffeine. “Let’s do it.”
Nic grabs my hand and drags me the rest of the way to the car.
He opens the door and closes it softly behind me.
While the gentle way he treats me has been irritating lately, I can’t help but feel a little touched at the notion.
Nobody has ever been so… romantic with me before, even if it is to an unhealthy, obsessive level.
I roll my eyes at myself and look out the window.
Men cannot be trusted. Men who put people into vats of acid definitely can’t be trusted.
Moreover, brothers of admitted killers cannot be trusted.
Even if I ever did develop deeper feelings for these brothers, I have goals I can’t afford to put on the back burner.
Falling in love and living happily ever after isn’t one of them.
School will get me a job, a job will get me more money, and that will let me afford somewhere better for my mom. There’s no way I can let anything distract me. No matter how sweet or attractive either of them are, they’re just a distraction.
Though being their hostage isn’t too bad. My grades have gone up since I have more time to study, since I’m not spending all my free time working.
By the time Nic pulls up to the cafe, I’ve re-shored up my defenses. I wait for him to open my child-locked door and don’t even fight him as he opens the door to the cafe for me. I can be cordial for the time being.
At the counter, Nic orders some kind of super sweet frappuccino monstrosity with extra shots of syrup, whipped cream, and caramel drizzle. When he’s finally done with his grocery list of an order, he looks to me, “Can I just get a toasted coconut white chocolate latte?”
Nic pays, and then we go wait off to the side for our order. After a moment, Nic starts bouncing where he’s standing. When he sees me looking at him with raised brows, he gives me a frustrated look. “If I go use the bathroom for a second, will you be okay by yourself?”
Translation: Are you going to run for it if I go to the bathroom?
I nod, “I’ll be fine. Go on.”
He looks relieved and practically sprints off to the bathroom.
He’s barely closed the door behind him when my phone starts to vibrate in my pocket.
My heart drops as the state mental hospital’s number flashes across the screen.
Looking around, I see a door to the side for alley access.
I head through without a thought. “Hello?” I answered the phone before the door even closes behind me.
I walk a few feet away from the door. “Hello, Miss Peterson. I’m calling about your mother,” the woman on the other side says.
“Is she okay?” My mind is already running through all the horrible possibilities.
“She’s doing fine. I just needed to talk to you about changing her current treatment plan. I’ve just got to verify your identity before we go over that,” she reassures me.
After a few security questions, she explains the situation to me, “Your mother’s current medications have become ineffective.
We would like to give Clozapine a try. However, this medicine has a lot more side effects than her current regimen.
This is kind of a last-ditch effort before we consider things like electroconvulsive therapy. ”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut.
If this other pill doesn’t work, they want to do electric shock therapy on my mom.
I can’t really say no; either way, she needs treatment.
If the pills she is taking now aren’t working, then I have no choice but to agree to this other one.
I would rather that than shock therapy. Besides, it’s not like the side effects could be worse than her severe psychosis.
I don’t realize how long I’ve been thinking until the woman’s voice comes through the phone again, “Miss Peterson, we need your permission to move forward with this new treatment plan.”
“Yes. You can go ahead with it. Just keep me updated on her progress, and I’ll come visit as soon as I can.”
There’s a pause on the other side, “I’ll give you a call in a couple days to let you know how she’s acclimating to the new meds.
We understand your situation. The nurses all take turns to sit and chat with your mother on her good days.
Don’t feel rushed. We’re here to make sure everything goes smoothly. ”
A tear slides down my cheek, “Thank you. I really appreciate that.”
“No problem, sweetie. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye.” The word is soft, and when the phone goes silent, I’m so caught up in my emotions as more tears trail down my cheeks.
My hectic emotional state is the only reason I’m caught off guard.
Someone grabs my shoulder and slams me against the brick wall of the cafe.
I blink the tears out of my eyes to find a large man holding me at knifepoint.
I want to scream at this point. What the hell happened to my life?
First, I’m held at gunpoint, then kidnapped, now I’m being mugged in an alleyway!
Is there a tattoo on my forehead that says “damsel in distress” that I’m not aware of?
The guy doesn’t even say anything; he just swings the knife at me.
I dodge out of the way, yanking my shoulder out of his grip in the process.
His elbow jerks out and jabs me right in the meaty part of my waist. I gasp but manage to dodge out of the way of his knife again.
Before he can go after me again, the door bangs open, and his eyes widen, “Fuck! This job isn’t worth dealing with one of them.
” He runs off in the opposite direction.
I turn to find Nic rushing toward me. He grabs my shoulders and pulls me into a tight hug.
“Are you okay?” He’s holding me so tight I can’t respond even if I knew what to say.
“Fuck. I was so worried. The barista said you stepped out to take a call. I didn’t expect to find you in trouble when I came out here.
If I was any later… I can’t even think about what could have happened to you. ” Somehow, his hug got even tighter.
The tragic thing is I escaped a mugger just to be killed by a hug. I hope someone puts that on my tombstone. Nic pulls away from me, holding me at arm’s length while I finally fill my lungs. “What are you doing out here? You could have gotten hurt!”
Looking down at my toes, I hate that I had to be saved, “I got a phone call about my mom. I didn’t expect anyone to be in the alley. It’s not like I’m even dressed nicely; I don’t know why anyone would try to mug me.”
He looks down at me with furrowed brows, “Are you sure he was a mugger?”
I shrug, rubbing my cheek, “What else could he want with me?”
“I don’t know,” Nic said carefully.
I don’t complain when he takes my hand and leads me back into the cafe.
Our coffees are sitting on the counter waiting for us.
He hands me mine, and we walk out to the car.
When I’m finally sitting and able to think about things clearly, I realize that the guy never asked for my wallet.
It’s weird for a mugger to attack without demanding your money, right?