Page 117 of Devil May Lie

“Shower. Sleep. Those are the only things on my agenda. I’ll be fine. Go. And call Ledge and tell him not to bother showing. I’m locking the doors behind you and shutting my multi-slate off for the rest of the evening.”

“The doctor said it’s possible your memories could return to you at any given moment,” he reminded. “If or when that happens, it can be very discombobulating.”

Kelevra snorted. “Your abundant vocabulary never ceases to amuse me.”

“I’ll be fine,” Madden insisted, only for Zane to scoff at him.

“You don’t know that.” The med student crossed his arms stubbornly. “You’re missing almost two months, Madden. This isn’t a minor matter. That’s a lot of time. Aren’t you even remotely interested in filling in the blanks?”

“Not really,” he admitted with a shrug. “You’ve all filled in the cliff notes, so who cares if I actually remember anything?” He shooed them toward the large, open roller door. “Go on, and shut that on your way out, thanks.”

“But—”

“Let’s go.” Kelevra hooked an arm through Zane’s and practically dragged him backward toward the exit. “If he says he’s fine, he’s fine. No use babying him.”

“At least let Ledger—”

“Nah,” Madden waved at them, “I’m good.”

It was like he’d been holding his breath the past week, all of the air whooshing out of him as soon as the door was rolled down, blocking him from their view. Madden quickly tapped the button on his multi-slate that would lock both that door and the side one, ensuring no one could walk in on him.

He set the water bottle down and braced himself on the counter, letting his eyes slip shut momentarily.

When the doctor had asked how he was feeling earlier, he’d lied to get out of there sooner. There were still a lot of aches, and the spot at his side where the stitches were already healed over twinged when he made any sudden movements. With their advanced medical technology and his Vital healing, he should have been fine by now, but it was taking his body a lot longer than usual.

The throbbing in his head got worse and he winced and rubbed at his temples. A shower was definitely in order, he hadn’t been fibbing there. The thought of hot water practically had him moaning, and he headed toward the stairs.

It took him a while to make it all the way up them, but he refused to admit defeat and call someone for help.

Damn Butcher.

This was all his fault.

If Madden hadn’t been there that day, none of this would have happened.

He entered his bedroom and went straight for the attached bath, hesitating in the doorway when he spotted two towels hung up instead of the single one that was typically there. His gaze moved to the sink, brow furrowing when he took in a pair of toothbrushes. There was a single strand of pale hair on the counter and he pinched it between his fingers, holding it up to the light with a glower.

It was pastel green.

The same shade as that ugly new bike.

Madden flushed it down the toilet.

Chapter 29:

“This can’t keep happening, what is wrong with you?”

“Forgive me, Professor.” Berga hung his head, accepting the scolding his Chemistry 14 teacher was giving him.

In the middle of the hallway.

In front of everyone passing by.

He didn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed. Truthfully, it was hard for Berga to hold onto any feelings at all as of late. They were too fleeting. Too ephemeral. The second he thought he had a handle on something, he’d blink and it would be gone.

That sort of applied to everything now, not just emotions.

Like his studies.

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