Page 32 of Lost in Life

Pushing out of West’s embrace, I sling my legs off the small couch and push to my feet. “Someone tell me what’s going on here.” I demand, looking between the two.

“Nov-” West starts, but is immediately cut off by Mr. Mysterious.

“You idiots almost got yourselves killed and now I’m stuck with you.” He sighs, running his hand down his face.

My eyes take in his haphazard appearance, a drastic contrast to the last time I saw him. His thick beard has grown several inches. A new scar has been added to his forehead above his left eye. His hair has grown out too, little curls forming in the dark locks. Beneath a pair of bushy eyebrows, his soft grey eyes appear otherworldly in contrast to the gruff appearance of the rest of him. A new tattoo wraps around his neck, my eyes widening slightly at the sight.

Is that a noose?

Narrowing his eyes at me, he mutters, just barely loud enough for me to hear, “Fuck knows why.”

My mind catches up, the last tendrils of sleep releasing me from their hold. Everything rushes back.

Carver slamming me into the building, choking me. The sight of West standing and watching. The mystery man coming to my rescue instead before my head hit something hard and everything went black.

Whipping around, I shove a finger into West’s face. “What thefuck?!” I shout, my head spinning as the sudden movement makes me dizzy.

West stares up at me, concern and confusion covering his face. Carefully rising from the couch, he raises his hands in surrender. “Um, I don’t know what just happened.” Studying my face, his eyebrows crease as his concern grows. “Nova, are you okay?”

A laugh bursts from me. “Am I okay?” I repeat, laughing harder. My vision darkens on the edges as I struggle to pull in another breath. “You’ve got-” I shake my head as my vision clouds further, the movement only making it worse. “What-wha-” Before I can finish my sentence, the world abruptly fades to black, my knees buckling beneath me.

Zayn

I watch as the girl,Nova, crumples in a heap on the floor. Flying across the room, I scoop her up into my arms, ignoring the boy’s,West’s, protests. Striding across the small cabin, I push into my room, gently setting her down on my bed.

“What’s happening?” West asks from behind me, worry filling his tone.

Stiffening at his closeness, I carefully examine Nova. Bruises have already formed on her neck. Running my fingers along the back of her head, I feel a small bump and curse.

At the sound, West shoves closer, looking over Nova with frantic movements. “What? What is it?”

Twisting toward him, I grab hold of his wrists. “Stop.” His eyes shift to mine, fear shining in them. “She’s going to be okay.” I soothe, my grip on him tightening when he shakes his head. “She is. It’s probably a concussion.” I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince more. Him or me.

Sheisgoing to be okay. She has to be.

Releasing my hold on him, I push up to my feet. “I’m going to go get some food and water. Keep an eye on her and make sure she keeps breathing.” Exiting the room, I hear West murmur “they” under his breath.

My feet freeze in the doorway.

They?

Glancing over my shoulder at the two, I finally register the way he looks at her, the tender care he uses as he brushes her hair back.

God dammit. The first woman that catches my attention in decades and she’s pregnant with another man’s baby. Just fucking perfect.

Shaking myself, I continue forward into the kitchen to start preparing food. The chaos of my mind calms as I work through the necessary steps.

While it’s not as satisfying as a tattoo gun or a real gun in my hand, I’ve always enjoyed the process of cooking. Something about the freedom to play with the ingredients within a specific set of overall rules makes me feel safe to express myself while still calmed from the confinements of the basic rule set. I suppose the same logic could be applied to all my favorite pastimes.

Thirty minutes later, I carry in two bowls of pasta, setting them down on the end table beside my bed. Heading back into the kitchen, I grab a water, two beers, and my own food before joining the two once again.

Handing a beer to West, I set down Nova’s water and plop down on my bed next to her, kicking my feet up with a sigh. West eyes me, twisting the bottle in his hand. Shoveling a few forkfuls into my mouth, I try to ignore him. After a few more bites and he hasn’t stopped staring, I set my fork down. “What?” I snap, already annoyed to have my space invaded.

Just had to bring them both back here.

“Why are you helping us?” He asks, fiddling with the bottle. I arch an eyebrow at him. He looks away, taking a swig of his beer.

Sighing, I run my hand down my face and peer down at Nova’s sleeping form. “Honestly? I’ve got no fucking clue.” Lifting my hand, I hesitate before running a finger down her cheek. “I should kill you both. No witnesses and all.” I murmur, turning my attention back toward West.

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