Page 70 of The Fallen
He chuckles. “You always need my help.”
I snatch back the comment that wants to fly at him, damn sure bringing Stefan up now is not the right timing. You think he’d be fucking thankful for me saving his arse, not ready to throw that shit back in my face again.
“Just go, Landon. I need some time.” I finally break out into the mid-afternoon light, eyes searching for a taxi. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back to bending over for you as soon as I can.”
He’s quiet for a while. Still fucking hanging around, though. I glance back at him as I make my way to a few taxis waiting at the side of the road and find him smiling about something. That fact might piss me off more than being near this hospital is doing. I’ve had enough of him holding something over me and finding the game funny. Maybe that’s why I did what I did and pushed him out of the way, hoping that might make a difference to my life going forward. The rest of it was for her and her alone. Still is. Mrs Locke. What a fucking thought. Me and her, together and married?
I go to open a taxi door, but the movement wrenches my stitches, sending a riot of pain slicing through my insides. A hand comes around my side straight away, enough strength in it that I’m able to breathe through the feeling rather than collapse on the fucking ground.
“Stubborn fool,” Landon says, taking my weight. He moves me over to a bench, sits my arse on it. “Stay here while I get the car. We need to have a conversation about my sister.”
He’s gone before I get the chance to argue. We don’t need to have a fucking conversation about anything to do with Neve. We’ve already had it, as far as I’m concerned, and, regardless of me taking a bullet, we’re nowhere different than we were before. Shame my chest is telling me something else. Has been doing for a while now. Was all the time I've been in this place. Was before this shit went down, too.I don’t know whether that's something I should be dismissing or pursuing after the way we left it.
Sighing, I stare out into nothing. It’s probably the reason I took her to see Stefan, the reason I stood up for her in front of them all, and the reason I stepped in front of a gun. It's fucking love if I’m truthful with myself. Has to be, really. No other feeling would make me do that for her. Protection. Respect. More than that alone. The need to see her alive and breathing was so urgent and desperate I didn’t have a choice. Stupid, though.
And still pointless, considering who I am and who she is.
I stand and aim at the taxi again. I’m done. I need to get home, get showered, and get into my own bed. Maybe then all these feelings will die down and leave me in peace again.
I’m nearly at the door handle when Landon’s black Aston Martin cuts across the front of the taxi, near taking the fucking wing mirror off.
The window rolls down. “Don’t make me carry you again, Locke,” he says sharply. “Get in here.”
Too tired to argue anymore, I walk around the taxi, almost leaning on the bonnet the entire way, and slide into the seat. My eyes close the moment they can, and I let him drive wherever the fuck he is doing. My place would be good. Not that he knows where it is, but either way, I’m going back to sleep for a while.
Fuck this hurts. I open my eyes briefly and look down at my stomach, lifting the t-shirt. Still bandaged – no blood. Good.
“I need drugs.”
“And I need your address to take you home,” he says. “The drugs I can't help with. Or won't.”
I mutter it at him in response, barely coherently, and let my eyes close again. It’ll take a while to get home, anyway. Might as well sleep until then.
~
“Noah?” Something shakes me. “Wake up.” My eyes peel open, and I stare out into the sky, just about registering I'm in Landon's car still. “Not dead then?”
I look up to the house, imagining her at my sink again. Soulful eyes. Curvy body. Pretty lips sipping gently at her tea. The mental image confuses the fuck out of me, and I scrub my hands over my face to try getting rid of the vision. “No. Not even after taking a bullet for her.”
He sighs and sits quietly, his own gaze cast out into the dark like mine. Silence at least. That makes more sense to me than him trying to have a conversation about Neve. There's nothing to say. No terms to discuss. It’s not like I’m going to ask for her, nor is he going to offer her up on a platter either. We’re just too different. Different breeds, let alone class levels.
“You saved her life,” he says. "Possibly mine, too."
I shrug and nod. “Is she alright?”
“Questionable at the moment.”
I frown and look at him, concerned. “What does that mean? I thought everyone was alright after the bomb.”
“Do you need a hand getting to the house?”
“No. What do you mean-”
He reaches behind him and dumps my jacket on my lap. “You forgot that at Tallington. Thought I’d bring it back.”
The door slams in my face after he’s got out, and I watch him wander around the front of the car until he’s standing there staring at my house. Don’t know what for, but I’m guessing he’s assessing the place she stayed in, probably disgusted at the thought.
I get out slowly and make my way to him, then keep going until I’m at the door. “Come inside if you want to talk. Or go. Whatever, Landon. Thanks for the jacket.”
