Page 58 of Puck Blocked
What the fuck am I missing?
“I love you,” Montana says, breaking me from my train of thought.
“I love you so much. I was so fucking scared I lost you.” I lean in and press my lips to her forehead. And she offers me a weak smile.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Luke Jameson.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Iwas shot. Words I never expected to hear myself think, let alone say. And I saw my brother; although I’m not one hundred percent sure Luke believes me. I know I did, though. I’m certain of it.
Sean said he didn’t choose to take his own life, and I’m going to make it my mission to find out what happened. Why did he feel like he had to die to protect me? I can’t think of any reason.
My heart hurts. I’ve hated Sean for so long for leaving me behind. But finding out that he did what he did for me? The guilt is too much. I wish he had spoken to me before he did it. Maybe we could have figured it out, worked out a better solution to whatever problem he had.
Then there’s the fact he mentioned our mother. What could she have to do with any of this? I’m so confused. I have so many questions.
There’s always the other scenario, the one where I didn’t see my brother and it was all nothing more than a drug-induced dream.
I’ve been stuck in this hospital bed all week. I’ve had visitors, more visitors than I’ve ever had come to the hospital for me before. Of course, I didn’t have friends back then. And I have Luke now… and new friends.
I’m itching to get out of here, though. I want to go home. To Luke’s house. I want to get out of this town. The longer I’m here, the more chances Andrew has to find me. Luke says that he’s the one who shot me. They have video footage of him entering and leaving the cemetery. At first, I didn’t believe it. Andrew liked to see my pain up close. He never used weapons on me, preferring to use his own hands to deliver the blows.
And then I saw him…
Except it wasn’t really him. I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. It looked like him, but he had a completely different demeanor about him. He didn’t look like the carefree bartender I first met. And he also didn’t seem like the control freak of an abusive boyfriend I settled for. I watched the video footage five times before Luke took it away. I wish I could figure out what was different about the man on the screen. Why it was Andrew but also wasn’t him. I just have that feeling in my gut.
“A little help would be great, Sean,” I whisper. I love puzzles. I’m a mathematician—well, I want to be one anyway. I can solve nearly impossible equations, so why can’t I solve this?
“We’re breaking you out, Tanna,” Luke says, walking into the room with Grayson, Liam and Travis behind him.
“I can go home?” I ask excitedly. I’ve been trying to get out of this place for days now.
“Yep, we’re going home.” Luke smiles at me before turning around to glare at his friends. “You all need to get the fuck out so she can get dressed,” he growls.
“We’ll be outside.” Grayson spins right back around, followed by the other two. When the door closes behind them, Luke steps to my bedside.
“I got Aliyah to pick up some clothes for you.” He holds up the plastic bag.
“Thank you.” I push myself to a sitting position while gritting my teeth. It still hurts, but I do my best to hide the pain. It’s not like I don’t have a lot of practice.
“Tanna, you don’t have to pretend for me. I know it hurts. And I hate seeing you in pain. I would do literally anything if I could take your pain away for you. But I don’t want you to think you need to pretend for me,” Luke says, seeing right through my act.
“It’s not that bad. I’ve had worse.” I joke. Judging by the look on his face, it doesn’t land well.
“Come on. I’ll help you,” Luke says, emptying the contents of the bag onto the bed.
By the time I’m dressed, I have to admit I’m winded and Luke has to practically hold me up as we walk to the door.
“You sure you don’t want a chair?” he asks.
“I want to walk.”
The moment we finally make it outside, I pause, clinging to Luke’s shoulder while my eyes widen at the scene in front of us. There are ten really big SUVs lined up at the curb with men in suits standing beside each one. The middle vehicle has its door held open, like everyone is waiting for someone important to appear.
“Is someone famous here?” I whisper.
“You mean besides me, right? Hi, not sure we’ve met. Liam King. The Liam King.” Aliyah’s husband holds out his hand to me with a giant grin on his face.
