“He’s fine too.” Tolyan looks past me for a moment, his eyes colder than Siberia. “Andy’s lucky Dominic killed him. Otherwise I would have…and it wouldn’t have been a quick death.”
I fade out.
The next time I open my eyes, I feel marginally better. Kristen is sitting by me. She doesn’t look abused—no bruises or cuts on her face. She holds my hand between hers and sniffs.
“It’s all my fault, Liza.”
“How?”
“He… Andy used me to hurt you and Dominic.” Fresh tears spill, and she shrugs her shoulder to wipe them, smearing dark gray eyeliner on her shirt.
“Did he hurt you?”
She shakes his head. “No. He never even had me. The police are still looking into it, but they told me he used a movie prop finger to fool you.”
“Oh.” I look down at her unmarred hands. I start smiling, then laughing, even though it makes my ribs hurt.
Alarm crosses her face. Kristen starts to get up, but I tug at her.
“Don’t. I’m fine,” I say.
“But…” She stares at me like I just lost my mind.
“I’m just…” I blink away the tears. “I’m just happy you have all your fingers.”
* * *
Elizabeth
Over the next three days, my brothers and cousins and their spouses stop by.
Ryder stares like he’s seeing me for the first time. “God, Elizabeth, you look like you had a boxing match with Mike Tyson.”
I laugh. My ribs hurt, but I can’t help it even as I gasp with pain. “That bad, huh?”
“They haven’t given you a mirror yet?”
“No.”
“Probably for the best.” He pats my shoulder while looking slightly ill. “No need to rush things.”
“Ryder, sometimes you’re the worst,” his wife, Paige, chides him. Her belly’s enormous at the moment. She’s going to have her baby very soon.
“The bastard’s lucky he’s dead,” my cousin Dane says coldly, his eyes flat and…outright evil. He’s never been warm and fuzzy, and I’m glad I’ve never given him a reason to be mad at me because… I shudder.
His wife, Sophia, pats his forearm. “I couldn’t believe it when we got the call. We’re glad you’re okay.”
“Thanks.”
My uncle and aunt, Salazar and Ceinlys, walk in together. Salazar is holding a bottle of vodka and a bouquet of flowers. He’s older than my mom, and so much nicer. His eyes are warmer and more human, and he doesn’t have that “I’m better than everyone” air Mom has.
“Dad, vodka? Seriously?” Vanessa says, rolling her eyes.
“Hey, after an encounter like that? She deserves to celebrate,” Salazar says. “I’m so proud of you, Elizabeth. You’re a fighter and a survivor.”
I laugh weakly. “I don’t feel much like a fighter.”
“You’re here and he’s not,” Ceinlys says. She’s a year older than Mom, but looks much younger.