Page 129 of Twisted Redemption

Breathing. Breathing should be easy. So why isn’t it? And why does my mouth taste like pennies?

The last thing I remember is hearing sirens in the distance.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

BROOKE

I HAVE NO memory of the ambulance ride.

While I sit in the waiting room, I’m barely even aware of the blood staining my skin and dress or the tears soaking my cheeks, let alone the voices floating around me.

“Brooke. Are you okay?”

I blink slowly, trying to find the meaning behind those words before giving up entirely.

Later, more people crowd me.

“There you are... she’s covered in blood.”

“... still in surgery.”

“... change of clothes...”

“Shower. She needs a shower.”

My mind comes back a little then. Who needs a shower?

I see Dominic shaking his head. He looks exhausted. “The hospital staff would never allow that.”

“I don’t care whose head I have to hold a gun to, my sister needs to get this blood off of her right fucking now.”

“Just bribe a nurse,” a woman’s voice I don’t recognize says.

Someone crouches in front of me. A familiar face, a charming smile. “Hey, kiddo.”

“Felix?”

“You’ve gotta get cleaned up, okay? You’ve gotta shower.”

“Is he alive?” I whisper.

He nods.

“Will he...” I can’t make myself ask the rest of the question. Can’t make myself move, or look away from the pain on Felix’s face.

But then he’s gone, and the waiting room is gone, and I’m in a cramped bathroom. Sophia is there, gently trying to coax me into the shower.

“Come on, sweetheart. You’ll feel better once you’re clean.”

But I don’t think I’ll ever feel better.

“That’s it,” another woman snaps. She has dark hair and a fire in her eyes that reminds of Felix. I don’t think she’s much older than I am. “Move out of the way.”

Sophia obliges, and then my dress zipper is being pulled down, the whole thing yanked off my body. I yelp at the cold air.

“You’ll thank me later,” the woman grouses before pushing me under the stream of water. She grabs a wash cloth, taking it to my skin. Scrubbing.

He’s going to die. He’s going to die and it’s going to be my fault.

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