Page 134 of Pretty Poisoned

"No," he says. "No hospital. Just clean her up and take care of it. And make sure she's at the show tonight."

"That's not going to happen," she says.

"I didn't fucking ask your opinion, did I? Make it fucking happen."

"Hazel!" she screams. "Brady! Somebody fucking help me!"

"What do you…oh shit," Hazel says. "Oh my god, is she…"

"No!" River yells. "Get my fucking bag!"

I hear River scrambling at my side, but I can't open my eyes. On the other side, Hazel takes my hand in her own.

"Teagan? Can you hear me?" she asks. "Can you open your eyes?"

I can't. But I try squeezing her hand to let her know I'm okay. It doesn't work.

That's the last thing I remember before even my mind goes dark.

TWENTY-TWO

"Oh, thank fuck."

When my eyes flutter open, I'm on a bed with River hovering over me.

"Don't move," she says. "You have an IV in your arm, and you need to keep it in, okay?"

"What…how long was I—"

"A few hours," she says. "You're going to be okay, all right? You've had a transfusion; I'm giving you saline fluids now. I've got your wound cleaned and taped up. There's some Dermabond on it, so just try not to move around too much, okay? It might be itchy—don't scratch it."

"Derma…what's that?"

"It's surgical glue."

"Oh, god, she's awake!" Hazel says, stepping into the room. "How are you feeling, beautiful?"

"Great," I lie.

"How did it go?" River asks Hazel. "What did he say?"

Hazel shakes her head. "He said we'd better all be there. He said we have to bring her and to leave now. He's sending a car."

"Fuck…" River says. "But did you tell him—"

"Itoldhim, Riv. I told him over and over and over. He doesn't care. Teagan…" Hazel looks at me and shakes her head. "I don't know what you did to him, but don't do it again."

I don't bother telling them that I didn't do anything to him—he was the one who did something to me. He lied to me, he manipulated me, and then he hurt me and left me bloody and unconscious on the bathroom floor.

"Did he even—" I start.

Did he even check on me? Was he worried about me? Does he even care?I'm scared to hear the answers, so I don't bother asking. As if she knows what I'm thinking, River takes my hand in hers and offers me a sad smile.

No. He doesn't care.

"We need to get her dressed and downstairs," Hazel says.

"How the fuck are we going to—"

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