Page 57 of When She Falls (The Fallen)
“The doctor said once your fever’s gone, you’re in the clear. I’m going to arrange our flight.” He crosses the room with jerky steps, irritation emanating off him like a cloud. “Get yourself ready. We’ll be leaving today.”
“Ras—”
The door slams behind him.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
Okay, I earned that.
That man probably has my vomit somewhere on his shirt, and here I am being an asshole before he’s even had a chance to change his clothes.
I’ll need to fix that.
Add it to the never-ending list.
But it’ll have to wait until after that shower. I move to the bathroom. A strip of light from the skylight above bisects the space. I step into it and turn to the mirror.
A gasp escapes me.
My makeup’s gone.
And on my left cheek, there’s a fading bruise.
* * *
Five hours later, I’m showered, dressed in clean jean shorts and a button-up blouse, and my things are all packed up in the trunk of Ras’s car.
“We need to make a short detour to my apartment before the airport,” he says gruffly as we exit the driveway of the house. Behind us, two guards draw the gate closed and wave goodbye.
I pull down the sun visor and check my reflection in the small mirror. Ras hasn’t brought up the bruise he had to have seen, and that makes me nervous. I mean, it was obvious until I meticulously covered it up with makeup a few hours ago. Why hasn’t he asked how I got it?
Or did he?
He seems like the type that wouldn’t let something like that slide.
Another fuzzy memory surfaces briefly before I lose the thread.
My lips pinch together. It’s so frustrating to only have glimpses of what happened over the last few days.
Ras would mention the bruise to Vale. She texted me earlier, checking in on how I was doing, and she made no mention of it.
It’s strange.
I shift in my seat. Have they already made up their minds about what happened? That would be bad. Very bad. I need to set everything straight, but if I bring it up, I might just make it seem like a bigger deal.
If Vale finds out Papà hits me, there will be no coming back from it. Our family would be finished. It would be civil war with repercussions I can’t even attempt to imagine.
When did everything get so damn complicated? So messy?
I close the sun visor with a loud snap and glance at the man beside me.
“How far is it?”
“Not far. Ten minutes.”
He’s so angry with me. It’s been curt responses and zero eye contact ever since he came to collect me from the bedroom, and it bothers me.
A lot.
