Saint huffed out a laugh. “You did perfect. You did exactly as I asked and trusted me to handle it. That was the best gift you could have given me. I’m the one who failed.”
“You scraped the nail across my head?” I asked with a weak smile. “Funny, I thought that was me.”
His big hand cupped the side of my face. “I thought you’d been shot. You scared me to death.”
“Not shot. Allergic to guns, remember? My boyfriend told me to stay away from them. They’re hazardous to your health.” I tried smiling, but the short conversation had already worn me out. “Why so tired?” I asked under my breath.
“Shock,” West said from the other side of the room. “You were pretty shocky when they brought you in. That’s why we kept you overnight. You can go home this afternoon as long as someone keeps an eye on you for a couple of days. Don’t underestimate the mental and emotional toll something like this takes on you, Augie.”
“I’m not leaving his side,” Saint said. “We’re going to stay at Doc and Grandpa’s until they’re done fixing Augie’s house. Doc’s desperate to take care of him, and Grandpa is cooking everything except chili now. He even quizzed me on Augie’s favorite foods so he could go grocery shopping before we get home.”
I let myself drift off to the sound of Saint and our friends and family chatting about whether or not to still hold their chili dinner that night. I didn’t have the energy to participate, but I was relieved when Charlie spoke up and said I’d be horrified if they changed their plans for me.
“He can stay snug as a tick in a back bedroom and doesn’t need to spend any more time with you lot than necessary,” he explained. “Best of both worlds, yeah?”
I woke up again to a room empty of everyone except Saint and my sister Rory. They were talking quietly next to the bed. Rory sat in the visitor chair with her legs drawn up beneath her while Saint crouched next to her with his arms folded on the arm of the chair.
They were talking about Marco.
I cleared my throat. “Water?”
Both of their gazes snapped up to me. “Hey, sleepyhead, how are you feeling?” Saint asked, moving toward me with an affectionate smile. He grabbed a cup from somewhere and held a straw to my mouth.
“Headache,” I mumbled around the straw. “Itchy.”
Rory straightened up and leaned toward me. “I get itchy from heavy pain meds. That’s probably what it is.”
“Or the stitches in your scalp,” Saint added. “Gonna have a hot-as-hell scar there. My very own bad boy.”
I reached up to feel where the bandage was. It covered the edge of my hairline and part of my forehead. I hoped it didn’t leave an ugly bald spot in my hair.
Saint leaned in close and grabbed the hand messing with the bandage. “I’m kidding, babe. It’s deep but small. West thinks at most you’ll have a half-inch line on the very edge of your forehead. It’ll be fine. And since you’re not in the market for picking up guys anymore…” He winked at me before dropping a kiss on the unbandaged side of my forehead.
“Tell me about Marco,” I said when he pulled back.
Rory stood and came closer to the bed so she could reach for my hand. Saint moved around to the other side and slid onto the bed beside me, lying on his side with an arm around my waist so he could face Rory. Feeling him so close to me was soothing. I thought maybe I was finally beginning to trust he was really in this with me.
“I’m so sorry, Augie,” Rory said. “I promise I didn’t know.”
Saint twisted around and came back with my glasses, slipping them gently onto my face. Suddenly, I could see my sister’s red-rimmed eyes and tear tracks down her face.
“Of course you didn’t,” I said. “Why are you so upset? Where’s Kat?”
“She was in on it,” she said in a shaky voice. Tears spilled over and washed down her cheeks. “She was using me. Using us.”
I reached out a hand to her and grabbed onto her own cold fingers. “Shit. Oh god. Rory, I’m so sorry. Are you sure?”
Saint’s grunt of disgusted confirmation was all I needed to hear to know it was true.
“Their father started CSP and brought Marco on right after graduation. I remember hearing he was working for a nonprofit, but I guess I just assumed it was… I don’t know. I remember when Kat started suggesting beneficiaries for foundation donations. It started off with obvious ones like the Children’s Cancer Initiative, but then she suggested an organization that specialized in low-income housing. I finally put her in touch with Brett and Uncle Eric since they worked with the foundation more directly. I had no idea CSP was her family. Or that they were not a true nonprofit.”