Page 43 of Remy

“Of cour?—”

“No,” I interrupt. “I’m staying.”

“Liv, that’s not what I want.” Dad’s expression turns somber. “Please let me do this my way.”

No. Not alone.

“Please,” he repeats.

The pressure of everyone’s attention weighs on my shoulders.

It’s not right. Nobody should suffer in isolation. To walk through darkness alone.

“We’ll take good care of him,” the doctor promises. “There’s no need to worry.”

Remy steps closer. “I’ll make sure she gets home safely.”

I stiffen and shake my head, wanting to protest, needing to stay not only with my dad but away from the psychopath.

“Thanks, Rem.” Dad gives a solemn nod. “I’d appreciate that.”

He would?

Does he not understand what this man has put me through? What I’ve seen? What I’ve been forced to do?

I ache to tell him. To blurt the atrocities for all to know. But Remy encroaches farther on my personal space as if he can sense my teetering sanity.

“We’ll talk more once you return home,” he says to my father.

Dad nods again, holding my gaze as he throws back the bedsheet, his sun-starved legs on display while he drags them to hang over the side of the mattress. “Until then, try to get some rest, Liv. You look worse than I do.”

“Please,” I whisper. “I really don’t want to leave you.”

“I know. But I need you to. Those nurses aren’t going to offer me a sponge bath with my daughter hanging around.” He winks, yet the stare he gives after is pointed. Pleading.

None of this makes sense.

Why is he pushing me to leave with a criminal? Is it because he thinks I’ll be safe? Or that all of us will die if I don’t?

The doctor laughs, startling me.

“Come on.” Remy grabs the crook of my arm, his grip increasing my panic. “Let’s go.”

It takes all my strength to remain quiet as the doctor leads my father from the room. Every single ounce of my composure not to run for the nurses’ station and scream bloody murder.

“I suggest you quit thinking thoughts that will only get you in trouble.” Remy inches closer, the warmth of his mouth nestling close to my ear. “You’ve been so well behaved, my pretty little pyro. Don’t ruin it now.”

11

REMY

It takes a couple seconds but Ollie starts for the hall, her posture rigid.

She’s scared of me, which I loathe, yet the alternative isn’t an option.

I reach the elevator by her side. Remain quiet on our descent. Leave her to her thoughts as we cross the lobby and step into the frigid morning air.

“Where’s my car?” I scope our surroundings for the Bentley, having been dropped off at the front door by Russo.

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