Page 102 of Coco and the Misfits

“You have a car?” I blink.

He chuckles. “Yeah.”

“And why did you bring your car…?” I can’t make this out. Nothing computes.

“I had all the stuff in it. Now I also have two criminals.”

“Stuff?”

“We’ll explain,” Zach mutters. “Dammit, we need to cut these cable ties.”

“Upstairs,” Ryder says. “We need scissors. And then we should take her to the hospital.”

“I’m fine,” I protest. “They didn’t hurt me, I swear.”

“Are you sure, Candy girl?”

I ignore the endearment. “Yeah. I don’t like hospitals, and I don’t have the money for it?—”

“Money isn’t an issue,” Atticus growls.

“… I still don’t want to go.”

“Fine. I’ll check her,” Zach says. “I have a First Aid and Safety diploma. Let’s go.”

I stare at him. There’s so much I don’t know about them, and I still can’t process that I was almost kidnapped again and that these three showed up and literally saved my ass.

Proved themselves, like Sawyer had said. Haven’t they now proven themselves?

Sure they have. They proved they are decent human beings when the circumstances demand it. Brave. Protective. Amazing guys.

But who says they want to be with me?

37

COCO

Atticus carries me up to my apartment and I don’t even think about refusing. My legs are like jelly and won’t hold me. His strength is a balm.

My entire body starts shaking as he carries me up the stairs, Zach and Ryder following. Delayed shock reaction. Delayed panic.

I can’t believe I was rescued. That I’m safe.

I wish I had taken self-defense classes for years, not days. I wish I had not let my guard down. In retrospect, I wish for so many things. I cling to Atticus and wish I had never opened my heart.

Look what happened the moment I started trusting again.

Something about this isn’t making sense. I’m confused and I feel it, a fuzziness around the edges of my thoughts. Something about the three of them being there because of Zach… the courting…

I close my eyes and struggle to regulate my breathing. It’s wheezy, shallow, and it makes me dizzy.

The door to my apartment is, of course, wide open. Was it only minutes ago that I was grabbed and tied up right here, on my doorstep?

The dizziness gets worse.

Atticus carries me to my sofa and lays me down. When he starts getting up, I make a grab for him. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he says, “I’m not going anywhere. We just need to cut the cable ties. Do you have scissors?”

“Fuck scissors,” Zach says, rummaging in a kitchen drawer. “A knife will do.”

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