Perfect Chaos(33)

Deck took out his phone, pressed a few numbers and put it to his ear while he kept his gun on the doctor. “Call our guy. Tell him the incident at the hospital is me taking my girl home.” He paused. “Tell him I’m her emergency contact and she wants to leave. He can call me and verify if he needs to.” He shoved the phone back in his pocket, taking two steps to reach the doctor who still had his hands up with his back to the wall. Deck slid his gun back in his holster then got right in his face.

I couldn’t see Deck’s face, but just the way he held himself was intimidating. The doc’s eyes were like dinner plates and his skin was solid white.

“If she tells me anything else happened here that I don’t like, I’m coming back for you.”

Deck walked to me, picked me up, cradled me in his arms then strode down the hall to the elevator and pressed the button.



I SAW TYLER—well, a blurred form of Tyler—waiting by the car, arms crossed, leaning back against it, his face pensive. “Jesus. What the fuck?” Tyler opened the car door and Deck gently lowered me onto the leather front seat. “Drugged?”

“Sedated,” Deck said.

“What the fuck? Why?”

“Tyler, leave it.” It was an abrupt order, and I could tell from his lowered brows and pursed lips he was barely holding control. By Tyler’s nod and his glance at me, he got that.

He grabbed the seat belt and began to pull it across my lap. I shook my head. “No.”

Deck’s eyes closed for a brief moment then he let the seatbelt go, straightened and shut the door. He turned and spoke to Tyler, although I couldn’t hear him. Tyler nodded, looked at me then hopped in the back seat, the phone to his ear.

I watched Deck’s tall, lean form walk around the front of the car. Every muscle flexed, fury pulsating off him. He was like a time bomb, quiet and patient, but the tick, tick, and tick was a reminder that eventually there would be an explosion.

The car door slammed and he started the engine. Stray pebbles scattered beneath the tires as he drove. The radio was off. Tyler was silent and even the subtle sound of breathing seemed offensive to the tension in the car. I crossed my arms over my chest and stared out the side window at the whoosh of cars speeding by in the opposite direction.

I felt like a guppy floundering in a sea of sharks, always trying to escape from something. I didn’t know what I was doing anymore. The path I’d drawn for myself always seemed so clear, but suddenly … suddenly, it was all fucked up.

“What happened?”

I jerked at the sound of Deck’s harsh voice breaking the silence and then a rush of comfort settled over me. He always had that effect, as if I was cocooned in his protective warmth. In the beginning when he came back, I tried to escape it, fighting him, but I was only fighting myself. Deck was part of me whether it was right or wrong, good or bad. He lived in me, and I’d do anything to keep that part of me alive.

His voice cut through my thoughts. “What happened?”

“I … I had a bad dream.”

“It was more than that.” A statement.

I nodded. It was my past coming back to find me. After the purging, the memories flooded me, but normally, I was home alone for a few days where no one could see me as my mind and body healed.

“The cuts. The drinking. The ‘bad dream’. I want it all.”

My eyes shot to his.

“You have one day to get your story straight.” He briefly glanced at me. “And Georgie, the story will be the truth.” He was still pulsating with fury, lips tight, brows drawn over his dark eyes, but he was no longer clenching his jaw. He glanced in the rear view mirror. “Tyler?”

“All good, Boss.”

I looked over my shoulder at Tyler and he was typing on his phone. He looked up at me as if he sensed eyes on him and there wasn’t the usual wink or grin, it was his mouth drawn downwards. He went back to typing and I faced forward.

“The police—” I started.

“Are dealt with.”

I nodded. Deck knew people, but breaking me out of a hospital at gunpoint …

“Where are we going?” Please don’t say rehab. Please don’t say rehab.

“My place.”

I took a deep breath then leaned my head against the window. I didn’t want to close my eyes again. I was scared the nightmare would come back, but the drugs weren’t giving me a choice. “Don’t let me fall asleep,” I whispered.

“It’s safe to sleep, Georgie. You’re always safe with me.”

I nodded. Yeah, I was. Deck made sure of it; he always did. “I was scared.” I think it was the first time I ever admitted that.