Page 101 of Fragmented Illusions
My lips part in surprise. “How did you find me?”
“Sol is good with tech shit,” Spencer tells me. He then goes on to explain everything that happened. How they killed Trenton for me, then when they didn’t hear from me all day yesterday, they searched for me, knowing something was wrong. My heart clenches at that. How they knew I would never abandon them.
“I would never abandon us. What we have,” I whisper. Tears clog my throat and I swallow them down. A long, bumpy, snow-covered two-lane highway stretches in front of us, empty except for an occasional passing car.
“We know,” Solomon tells me, and I rip my eyes from the road to meet his gaze in the mirror once more.
Spencer shifts in the passenger seat, searching for some sort of comfort, I presume. Once he is situated, he then goes on to tell me everything that happened once they got to CPH. How they had to fight their way out and that he woke up in the car, similar to the way I did.
“Sol carried me out. I guess I passed out after I stabbed one of the guys. My knife in him was enough to distract him for Sol to slice his throat open.”
I gasp, my eyes ricocheting back and forth between them. Not because they killed someone—multiple someones—but because they got hurt.
“Are you okay?” I ask Spencer. I scoot forward in the back seat until my bottom is resting on the very edge—that’s when I notice I’m still in the ugly green hospital gown. I swallow my self-hatred to focus on them. I lean my arms against both of the seats in front of me to brace myself and bend until my head is between the two of them.
With my face directly next to Spencer, I can make out his features more deeply. His dark eyebrows are thick and perfectly arched. One of them has a cut sliced through it with fresh blood dripping from the wound. His eyes are half-lidded as he peers at me, almost lazily, but I can still make out his blue eyes.
His nose is straight, leading to a defined cupid’s bow and full, rounded lips. Lips which are split open and bleeding, along with several bruises littering the entire expanse of his face. My stomach twists, thinking about the pain he must be in.
Pain because of me.
I reach my hand out and tentatively brush my fingers along his skin. It’s smooth under my touch, despite the blemishes marring him.
I feel his hot breath stutter when I trace every wound, committing them to memory.
“I’m sorry I am the reason you are injured,” my voice cracks as my tears fall, splashing and pooling onto the leather seat. Spencer lifts his non-mangled hand and presses his palm against my fingers still tracing the lines of his face. He puts pressure, as if he is holding me to him.
“I would do it a thousand times over. You’re ours, pretty girl. No one else gets to have you.” He smirks, and the action causes more blood to drip from his split lip as he opens the wound wider.
I move my hand from his cheek to his lips and he removes his hand from mine, letting it fall back into his lap. I press my thumb to his lips. “Please be careful.”
“Sure thing, baby.” He laughs. It’s hoarse and grated, but it makes me smile, nonetheless.
“Is your hand going to be okay?” I ask, dropping my chin to stare at the mangled hand pressed against his chest. A few of his fingers are twisted at a weird angle and the dorsal side of his hand is swollen and completely black and blue.
“Yep.” He pops the P with a smirk that could also be a grimace. I swallow down my hesitancy and reach forward to press my lips to his. Spencer moans into my mouth and opens his lips for me. I slowly part my lips and dart my tongue out to explore his mouth.
Copper explodes on my tongue, and I automatically deepen the kiss. Spencer’s tongue dances with mine, slow and sure. I savor his flavor as we move together leisurely.
My pulse races and a steady throb settles deep in my core, forcing me to press my legs together to soothe the ache spreading desperation through me.
A hot hand settles against my lower back and I gasp, pulling away from Spencer at the surprised touch. My eyes land on Solomon. He’s smirking slightly as he stares at the road, and flexes his fingers, brushing them against the bones of my spine that protrude from my skin.
“Don’t stop on my account,” his deep voice grunts out, and Spencer barks a laugh right into my ear. I flush, heat flooding my face and creeping down my neck. Solomon peers at me out of the corner of his eye and smirks, pulling one side of his mouth up. A small dimple deepens the skin of his swollen cheek and I find myself reaching for it.
I’m rapt as I trace the small indentation. Rough skin pulls at my fingers as I trace his flesh. His eyes crinkle as he stares back out at the road, but he lets me explore him. Like I did with Spencer, I absorb his features.
His jaw is sharp and angular, leading down to an equally sharp, but rounded, chin. His eyebrows are thick and arched and his nose is straight—two features he shares with Spencer. Their hair is also similar, though Solomon’s is darker and not as long. It is also straighter and more parted to the side while Spencer’s is wavy and hangs across his forehead in a wild mess.
Solomon leans towards me and presses a hard, chaste kiss to my lips before staring back out at the road. My fingers come to my lips, and I touch the tingling, soft flesh for a moment before I drop my hand.
“I thought I was lost forever,” I whisper quietly. I’m not sure if I said it merely for myself or not, but I receive the answer I didn’t know I needed.
“Never with us, pretty girl.”
A pain-filled smile graces my face as I glance out of the windshield, my eyes staring at the path the bright white headlights illuminate on the dark road. “She’s My Ride Home” by Blue October plays softly, the only sound in the car, until we hit another bump and Spencer groans next to me. I drop my smile with the sound of his pain, worry delving its way deep inside of me.
“Where are we going? Shouldn’t we be going to a hospital?” I force myself from my torturous thoughts. I need to focus. This isn’t about me right now—not anymore.
