Page 151 of Someday Away

Apparently, the theater was evacuated as soon as Sebastian and Lincoln figured out what was going on. The cops and paramedics arrived after Trey and I made it downstairs, and a nice woman named Rita has been fussing over my head wound while I sit in the back of an ambulance, asking me a million questions as she carefully wraps gauze around my temple. Everyone looks worried, and Rita keeps telling the guys I’m in shock and may have a concussion.

Two unconscious people were brought down, but the other paramedic wouldn’t let me see them. I assume one is Matt and the other is Link, but no one pulled out one of those black body bags like you see in movies, so I have to assume they’re both still breathing.

In the back of my head, I’m screaming. There’s a wall there that’s holding back my pain and grief because I know that as soon as that emotional dam ruptures, I may not survive.

I feel so cold, and every once in a while, a tear trickles down my cheek, startling me with its heat.

My stepbrothers and Trey have all taken turns trying to talk to me, but I hate the gentle voices they use, like I’m a small child, so I refuse to respond.

Yes, I understand the irony of acting childish about them treating me like a child.

“We’re going to take you to the hospital,” Rita says. “You’ll have to stay overnight just for observation.” She’s the only person talking to me like an adult.

“Where’s Lincoln?” I ask quietly. “Is he okay?

She looks at me steadily as if gauging how much information I can handle before sighing resolutely. My insides are unsettled as I wait for her response.

“They won’t tell you?” she finally asks.

I shake my head. “They’re afraid I’ll have a breakdown or something.”

“They love you.”

“I know,” I say simply. “But you don’t need to protect me like they do, and that boy is half of my beating heart, so please tell me if he’s okay.”

She nods. “He was shot in the shoulder, and he lost a lot of blood. But I doubt the bullet did much damage. My colleague said it went through cleanly—didn’t hit anything important. Some surgery should fix him up—though please understand there’s no guarantees. They’ve already taken him and the other guy to the hospital.”

I let out a shaky, resigned breath. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” she says, smiling warmly. “Will you give the police a statement?”

“I want to see Link first.”

She purses her lips but agrees.

Trey climbs into the back of the ambulance, and I nestle into his side, my stomach fluttering when his soft lips brush my forehead. We don’t talk, but it’s the first time since I woke up on the theater floor that I feel like I can breathe easier.

CHAPTER FIFTY

CHARLIE

It’s been six weeks since the night when Link was shot and Matt was arrested.

Matthew-fucking-Johnson was charged with aggravated assault, attempted murder, rape (thanks to Sebastian coming forward with information about my mom), and three counts of sexual assault, and he’s still rotting in jail while he awaits sentencing since he certainly has no money for bail. I’m not looking forward to the trial, but if it means he can’t hurt anyone else, I’d do it a million times over with zero regrets.

Trey and I have been busy taking care of Lincoln while he recovered from his shoulder wound as well as juggling school and working at the theater when we can. Even when the physical wound itself had healed, Link would have nightmares and flashbacks from that night. He was embarrassed at first, but it’s hard to hide from the two people you share a bed with.

Now with school stuff finally done and Link mostly healed, I’m ready to just enjoy life, and enjoythem. We’ve talked about taking things to the next level—like a real threesome, if you will.

I know what I want to try. I’ve been writing about it in my notebook, which has been giving me some serious lady blue balls. Even now, I flush as I stare at the filthy words I justscribbled on the page while I wait for Trey and Link in the hallway outside their classroom to finish their last finals.

“You’re blushing, Bennett,” Trey drawls.

I jump guiltily, slamming the book shut as I stare up into their beautiful faces. Trey’s golden hair is a shaggy mess—he still refuses to cut it—and I told him he’d be rivaling Chris Hemsworth soon enough, but I love tangling my fingers in the soft strands. His whisky eyes are sparkling with mischief as they rake over my body, which just makes my face flush hotter. Link is just as unfairly stunning as usual. His dark hair is controlled chaos, artfully styled to perfection, and his expressive eyes, which are narrowed in suspicion as he watches me, are so light they’re practically platinum. I’ve nicknamed them Fifty Shades of Gray because of the way the hue changes with his moods, but they’ve been light more often than not these days. His full lips twitch in his half smirk, and I have to hide my own smile. He’s happy now, and that makes me happy.

“What’re you writing?” Link asks, tipping his head at my notebook.

“I, uhh…it’s nothing.” I don’t know why I’m suddenly so flustered. They’ve had their fingers in my ass, for Christ’s sake.

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