Page 57 of Ruined Wolfsbane

Looking down to hide my dopey grin, I finish off her last stitch. After I clean off the area with a wet rag, I tell her, “You’re all set to go. These sutures should be stronger than the ones out of sewing thread. Try not to tear them, please.” I can’t handle seeing her hurt anymore.

“No promises, doc,” Briar says with a wide smile. “Thanks for patching me up, Xander. You do a great job.”

I stand up and offer her my hand. She puts her warm palm in mine and holds on to me as I haul her up. Dropping her hand, I quickly step back. That way I won’t do anything stupid, like try to hold her.

Briar looks like she wants to say something, but she doesn’t. Instead, she turns around and walks to the door. When she reaches the threshold, she looks over her shoulder and says, “For what it’s worth, you’d make an excellent doctor. Your parents are blind not to see that.”

CHAPTER 24

BRIAR

“Breakfast was perfect,” I tell Archie as I try to smile through the pain in my chest. My heart aches for Xander. While he was stitching me up, I watched his face as he talked. The amount of raw pain that lined his features when he spoke about his twin was staggering. His pain took my breath away.

I wanted to comfort him, but I don’t think he wants anyone to know how much he’s hurting. So, I did the only thing I could. I silently bore witness to his anguish.

“Excellent. I hope all future meals are to your liking.” Archie gives me a wide smile, drawing me out of my assessment of Xander.

Future meals? Pretty sure I was only staying last night, but I bite my tongue because Archie looks so happy about me being here longer.

“Everyone ready to go?” Malachi asks while looking directly at me.

“Yep,” I chirp. I shove the last spoonful of yogurt-covered peach in my mouth before hopping up. Breakfast was amazing. We could choose from eggs, bacon, yogurt, fruit, granola, and toast. The guys eat even more than me, so I felt safe filling my plate with a bit of everything.

Now, I’m rocking a food baby from how much I ate. I can’t remember the last time I left for class with a full stomach, but I can’t get used to it. I’ll have to go back to living with Patrick soon enough.

Determined to enjoy the easy access to food while it lasts, I snag another piece of bacon as I round the table.

“We don’t have to leave right now. You can finish eating.” Malachi raises his brows as I munch on the perfectly cooked bacon.

“I just wanted a snack for the road.” I shrug. Malachi shakes his head at me in exasperation. He has a small smile, so I doubt he’s as frustrated with me as he’s trying to seem.

Malachi holds out his hand for me, but Bastian beats him to it. Bastian places my hand on the crook of his arm. I laugh at the smug look he shoots Malachi. I let Bastian lead me down to the basement and out to the garage. He pulls open the rear passenger door for me. “Here we go, m’lady.”

Snorting at his antics, I reply, “Thank you, kind sir.” My cheeks heat with the memory of why Xander doesn’t want me to call him “sir.” I quickly climb into the car to hide my burning cheeks.

Smoothing down my new skirt, I wonder again why Malachi just happened to have an extra uniform skirt in my size lying around. The skirt I wore earlier is probably ruined with how much I bled on it while running. I’m thankful he had another one for me to change into, but it’s odd that he did.

Malachi, Xander, and Bastian all get into the Rover after me, with Malachi driving.

“Phone,” Bastian demands with his palm held out expectantly.

“Why?” I question, making no move to pull my phone out of my bag.

His lips tip up at my question. “Suspicious much? I just want to jam out to music. You’re our guest, so you get to supply the tunes.”

“Oh” is all I say in response, while handing over my phone. I can feel the heat creeping back up to my cheeks at being called out for my less-than-trusting nature. Luckily, no one’s paying enough attention to me to notice.

Bastian hooks up my phone, and the familiar notes of “Burn” start filtering through the speaker system. I immediately realize my mistake in letting Bastian choose any playlist when I hear a staple of my “After” playlist come on. “No!” I practically shout as I snatch the phone away from Bastian. This playlist is way too personal to share with anyone else. I feel vulnerable having the Wyldharts listen to it.

Going back to my general playlist, I put on “Move Along.” Hopefully Bastian gets the hint I don’t want to talk about it.

He doesn’t. “So, early 2000s pop-punk, huh?” Bastian asks in an attempt to draw me into conversation after my earlier weirdness.

It has the opposite effect. “My mom liked it,” is all I can manage past the lump in my throat.

I have so many memories of my mom dancing around our old kitchen, singing into a wooden spoon. With flour-covered cheeks and wild strawberry-blonde hair flying around, my mom would sing with abandon as she cooked or baked. She’d often grab my chubby little hands and swing me around to the beat, relishing my youthful peals of laughter.

Fuck! I can’t be thinking about my mom right now. I’m seconds away from a breakdown that the Wyldharts definitely don’t need to see.

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