Page 52 of Vital Signs
I opened the van's rear doors and stepped out into the bitter January morning. The cold hit like a slap after the warmth we'd maintained through shared body heat. Three pairs of eyes tracked my movement, taking in my rumpled clothes, my tangled hair, the smell of cannabis and sex that probably clung to my skin.
"Morning," I said, trying for casual. "Breakfast run?"
River's expression didn't change. "We tracked your phone to this location. Been calling for the past hour. When you didn't answer, Annie got worried."
Of course. I'd turned my phone back on at three AM to check the news. Forgot the family could track it. Stupid mistake.
"I'm fine, as you can tell." I gestured at myself. "No need for a rescue mission."
"Are you?" Annie stepped forward, her gaze moving from my rumpled clothes to my tangled hair. Her mouth pressed into a thin line. "Because you look like someone who's been making poor decisions."
Heat flared in my chest. Poor decisions. Like I was some wayward teenager instead of a grown man who'd survived things they couldn't imagine.
"My decisions are mine to make."
"Not when they affect family safety." River pulled out a tablet, swiping to what looked like a news article. "Wright filed a complaint about the clinic break-in. Federal crime due to HIPAA violations."
Xander stepped forward, and the hurt in his eyes made my stomach twist. "Misha, just tell us you weren't involved. Tell us this is some misunderstanding."
The plea in his voice almost broke my resolve. Xander had been my closest ally in the family, the one who understood what it meant to be different, to be reduced to your trauma instead of recognized for your strength. But even he was asking me to lie.
"I can't do that."
River's jaw tightened. "Where's your friend? Hunter?"
Hunter appeared in the doorway. "I'm here," he managed.
"We're fine," I said firmly. "Better than fine."
"Are you?" Annie gestured at Hunter's obvious condition. "I've seen what happens when people make major decisions during detox, honey. It's not pretty."
Hunter's jaw tightened. His shoulders hunched inward, and he looked away. The same posture I'd seen when he talked about losing his nursing license. Shame, written in every line of his body.
The sight of it made something fierce rise in my chest.
"Enough." I stepped between them, fury burning through my veins. My hand found Hunter's arm behind me, a firm grip that said I wasn't backing down. "Don't you dare talk about him like that."
River's expression went cold. "This is exactly like Roche," River said. "You're latching onto someone who makes you feel special."
"Hunter is nothing like Roche."
I glanced back at Hunter, who stood steady despite his deteriorating condition. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead, and his hands trembled at his sides, but his eyes were locked on me with the same intensity that had made me want to push him until he snapped.
Like he was daring me to choose the safe option. Like he knew I wouldn't.
Even in early withdrawal, the cocky bastard was still challenging me.
"We're trying to protect you," Annie said, and her voice carried genuine hurt now, not just concern. "After everything we did to keep you safe, after bringing you here, giving you a home... you throw it away for a stranger?"
"Hunter isn't a stranger anymore."
"Three days, Misha," Xander's voice cracked. "And you're choosing him over us? After everything we've been through?"
I turned to face him. "I don’t owe you my autonomy forever."
River cut in. "Hunter's nervous system is in crisis right now. That makes him unpredictable."
"Dangerous, you mean," I said. "Say what you really think."
