Page 75 of Ravaged Soul
Turning away from them to head back inside, I halt at the sound of my name being called. Ripley has stepped forward to follow me, but she stops to rattle off some kind of address.
“What’s that?” I stare at her.
“My home studio. In case you want coffee or something stronger.”
It takes a second for me to find an adequate reply in my state of surprise.
“A coffee?”
“Or something stronger.” She hikes up a shoulder. “Looks like you could use it.”
“Right. Uh, thank you.”
She tucks a chunk of curls behind her ear. “I’m an okay listener, though I tend to zone out when I’m painting. Feel free to come talk to me though if the team drives you insane.”
“Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”
“I hope so.” A grin stretches her lips.
With another nod, Ripley turns to snag Xander’s slender arm. My gaze catches on the rows of silvery, symmetrical scars that mark his visible skin. When I look up, he’s staring at me. Without an ounce of embarrassment. I try for another smile, and the corner of his mouth hooks up.
“See you around.” He loops an arm around Ripley’s neck and kisses her cheek. “Let’s go. Raine and Lennox are waiting for us.”
The pair walk off down the busy street towards the distant underground station. I watch Xander’s head turn on a swivel,always alert, monitoring their surroundings for any threats. He keeps a tight, protective hold of Ripley the whole time.
Huh.
Taking a few more minutes to calm down, I wait for my still-pounding heartbeat to settle a little before considering going back inside. My vision is wavering, the headache refusing to let up. Inside the hospital, I locate the shop, in search of coffee and painkillers.
“Were you making friends?”
The gruff rumble of Hyland’s voice startles me. “Jesus. Where did you come from?”
Towering over a magazine stand, he appraises me with a quirked brow. There’s a duffel bag over his shoulder and a grease-stained paper bag of food clasped in his hand. He looks showered and rested.
“Saw you outside.”
“And you just kept walking?” I narrow my eyes.
“Neither Ripley nor Xander will hurt you. Not if they value their lives. Though I am surprised to see them out and about in public.”
Locating the in-store coffee machine, I jab the buttons to fill a Styrofoam cup with black nectar. Hyland grunts in affirmation when I wave a hand towards the cups before filling one for him.
“What’s this about a documentary?”
He moodily eyes the rows of magazines. “Ripley talked to the press about the Harrowdean Manor case. She’s being featured in an anniversary documentary. It’s caused a bit of a fall out.”
Grabbing three sachets of sugar, I dump them into my cup. Hyland abandons the rack to come stand next to me, his mouth wrinkling.
“You don’t take sugar.”
“Today I do.” I sigh tiredly.
“Go home and rest, red. I can stay with Tom.”
“I want to be here when they ease the sedation. He shouldn’t be alone.”
“We don’t know when that’ll be.”
