Page 49 of Last Boy

Her lip trembles as she falls against me, sobbing uncontrollably. “Everything,” she whimpers loudly. “Everything fucking hurts.”

Carefully, I slide my hands down her body and lift her up. With her head against my chest, I kiss her hair. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“No!” she screeches. “If you take me to the hospital, the police will get involved.” She shakes her head softly. “I can’t do that, Walker.”

Heading out of the alleyway, I walk to the passenger seat of my truck and gently slide her in. “I know where to take you.” I dip my nose close to hers. “Do you trust me?”

Her mouth quivers before she gives me the slightest nod. “Yes,” she cries. “I trust you.”

Pressing a kiss gently to her forehead, I carefully close the door and head to the driver’s side. I don’t want to press her for answers right now, but I know one thing to be true.

I’m going to fucking murder whoever did this to my girl.

14

Walker

Reaching for my energy drink, I tip it back, draining every last drop. My body is tired. I guess playing a college hockey game and then finding the woman you love beaten to a pulp will do that. But my mind couldn’t be more awake. Racing a thousand miles an hour. Yet I can’t focus on anything besides the fact that I wasn’t there. I failed her.

Again.

It’s all I do. I fucking fail. I couldn’t save my parents. Now, my sister has been brainwashed by my uncle and is acting like a lunatic, and Poppy was attacked. Whoever I get close to goes down in flames.

Bringing my uncle Beckett into this is the last thing I want to do. But I have no choice. Beckett has a lot of money and resources at his fingertips. I’m going to need her protected until we find the attackers. But I know my uncle enough to know that, despite how the public might see him, he runs in some pretty bad circles.

I glance over at her as the sun begins to peek along the horizon, ready to start the day. A day that I’ll make sure is better for her than yesterday was.

If I knew who did this to her, I would have already found them and probably killed them with my own bare hands. I would have beaten them senseless. Because I know that once I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop. Not until they were a bloody mess on the pavement at my feet.

In her sleep, her lips form a frown. Like even asleep, she has no peace. There’s no escaping her reality. And seeing the cut on her lip brings me back to the very first time she crashed into my life. Or I guess I should say, I crashed into hers.

We moved to Sunset Drive when I was six. But I still remember the very first time I saw her. She had a bruise on her arm and a swollen lip with a cut on it. She wore jean shorts overalls, and her hair was tangly. When Briar and I were walking on the sidewalk with our parents, Poppy and Van were playing outside. He ran right over, black eye and all. But Poppy, she barely spared us a glance.

My mom might have had her demons and her struggles, but she had a heart of gold. And when she saw Poppy and Van both living in hell, she wanted to help—even if she wasn’t really able to.

When Van caught me watching Poppy curiously, he tapped my shoulder and said, “She just doesn’t trust new people.” He glanced back at his sister before giving me a small smile. “She really loves sour stuff. Warheads are her favorite. If you bring her those, she won’t hate you as much.”

“She hates me?” I blurted out. “She doesn’t even know me.”

He let out a long sigh. “Look, we’re not really used to people stayin’ in our lives. Y’all seem nice. You and your family. But…my sister will take more convincing.”

On that day, I decided I’d buy a pack of Warheads with all the change I had hidden in my sock drawer and give her one once a day. For the first four days, she ignored me or ran away.

But by day five, she whispered, “Thank you.”

And on day seven, she asked if I wanted to go for a walk.

Her hair was still tangly, and her clothes were worn, just like mine. And for the first time in my entire life, I felt like I had someone who had been made just for me.

But looking at her now, I’m realizing I was wrong all along. Maybe it was me who was made for her.

My phone vibrates, and I’m thankful when it doesn’t wake her up. We still have forty-five minutes until we get to my uncle’s, and I want her to get all the rest she can. Because when she wakes up, she’s going to be in pain. And I really fucking hate the thought of that.

Quickly pulling over, I quietly open the truck door and gently close it behind me, making sure she stays asleep on the passenger side.

“Hello?” I say, leaning against the truck.

“How far out are you?” Beckett’s voice clips, making me grit my teeth.

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