Our bond, however, is unbreakable.
“I don’t want him to find us,” Pippa whispers, staring at me with a frightened expression.
I cup her face in my battered hands, smiling down at her with everything I have. “I’ll never let him hurt you again, Pippi. Never.”
She smiles up at me. I’ve called her Pippi since the day she was born. I always thought it suited her more.
“Let’s go,” I encourage her, taking our bag and running towards the front door.
Stepping out onto the street today seems different. It feels like there’s hope in the air, like we might actually have a chance to live and breathe again. Taking my sister’s hand, I take the first step to freedom. No more foster homes, no more evil men, and no more being apart.
This is our chance at freedom, and I’m not letting it go.
~*~*~*~
2014
Santana
Bright lights jerk me awake. The shrill sound of beeping monitors is the only noise that fills my aching ears. I try to blink, but my eyes feel like two heavy pieces of lead in my skull. My tongue is dry and it burns, like a scratchy piece of sandpaper in my mouth. I gasp out a breath, flicking it about to try and get some saliva to coat it.
“Santana?” A voice calls. “My name is Roberta, I’m a nurse here. Can you hear me?”
Of course I can hear you, you’re yelling in my face. The words want to come out, but my stiff tongue won’t move enough to let them. Tears burn under my heavy eyelids as I try hard to speak. Where am I? What happened?
“You’re in the hospital. Squeeze my hand if you can hear me?”
A soft hand is in mine. How did I not notice that? I squeeze it, mulling over her words. Hospital. You’re in the hospital. My hazy mind swims as I go over the memories lying dormant inside it. Why am I in the hospital? What happened? Did something go wrong? Where is Pippa?
“You were shot,” the nurse goes on.
Shot? I shake my head from side to side, confused. I cry out, but it sounds like nothing more than a hoarse gasp. The sounds of creaking doors and beeping are too loud.
“Is she awake? Why the fuck wasn’t I called?”
A barking voice fills the room, so familiar. My mind swims, trying to figure out whom that voice belongs to. God, why can’t I remember anything? My mind aches.
“Santana? Hey, it’s me. Maddox.”
Maddox?
More tears run as fuzzy memories become clearer. Running from the compound. Ash, Krypt and Maddox. Together. Having sex. Bullets firing at me. I hiccup loudly, and begin to cry harder as my hand reaches out for the comfort I need the most. Maddox.
“I’m here,” he says, and the bed dips as my body is pulled into solid arms. “No one can hurt you now.”
The words he’s told me so many times. So many times. I flutter my eyes open, and everything is blurry. The nurse comes into view first, her round face staring down at me. She blinks her green eyes and smiles. “Hi, would you like some water?”I nod, and she passes me a small plastic cup with a straw poking out. I take it, and press it to my mouth. My hand shakes, and Maddox’s goes up to curl around mine. He holds it steady as I take gulping sips, desperate to ease the ache in my throat. I shift, and a sharp pain radiates through my calf.
I got shot.
Someone shot at me.
I let the cup go, and Maddox thrusts it towards the nurse. “Leave,” he demands.
“But I have only just finished checking her vitals. The doctor will want to see her, and . . .”
“I said,” he barks, his voice a deadly hiss. “Leave.”
“I . . .”
“Now,” he bellows.
She hurries out of the room, and the door closes quietly behind her. Maddox shifts, moving out from behind me and getting off the bed. He gets a chair and drags it over, sitting beside me and staring at me with blue eyes that have clearly had no sleep. He’s got dark rings under them, and his jaw is tense, his muscles ticking.
I watch him, and my heart clenches. He slept with Ash. He slept with Ash. My heart burns, it burns like someone has shoved a match inside and lit it on fire. I have no reason for this kind of jealousy; Maddox and I have never been an item. But the way it hurt shocked me. It shocked me, because I didn’t realize it would bother me.
“You slept with Ash . . .” I whisper, dropping my eyes.
“Look at me, Santana,” he orders.
I shift my gaze, staring into his, hating that I love his eyes so much, but I do. I love his eyes. I love his entire, rugged, gorgeous face.
“You have never cared who I fucked before,” his voice is a low rasp. “Why now?”
“I . . . she was my friend,” I say, turning away again.
His voice comes out like a deadly whip. “Didn’t say you could look away. Now turn your eyes back to me.”
I grind my teeth, but I turn back to him. He leans in closer, his leather jacket squeaking with each movement.
“I didn’t fuck her.”
I blink at him. “Y-y-y-y-you didn’t?”
“No.”
“But you were still with her,” I whisper.
His eyes scan over my face before his mouth pulls into a thin line. “Ain’t goin’ into details with you, but yeah, I was still with her. Didn’t know it would matter to you.”
“It doesn’t, it’s fine. I . . . I’ve just had a hard time. It’s nothing.”
“You lyin’ to me?”
“No, Maddox.”