The bell rang, signaling dinner rations, but I didn’t leave the clinic. I’d pulled the mattress back up to the loft. It hadn’t been easy by myself, but I’d refused to ask for help. Jax had dropped off some worn but clean blankets, so I made up the bed. Under the mattress I slid an old rusty pair of scissors I found in the cabinet and felt better having a way to defend myself. I placed a candle next to the mattress and heard the door open.
“Bones?” Griz called. “You hear the bell? It’s dinner time.”
“I’m not hungry,” I snapped at him from the loft.
He peered up at me, his brow furrowing. Then he just stepped back outside and shut the door. Relieved, I laid down on my mattress. I’d placed it against the wall but angled it so I could see the ladder. I figured I could probably pull the ladder up with me at night too, adding another layer of protection. I stared at the darkening sky out the window, lost in my thoughts. Then the door opened again.
“Bones?”
I scowled, recognizing Trey’s voice. I sat up on the mattress, but I didn’t answer. I heard him come in, shutting the door behind him.
“Bones? I brought dinner.”
I let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not hungry,” I repeated, my voice dull.
The single light bulb turned on, blinding me. I swore under my breath, squinting past the white spots in my vision and listening as Trey’s footsteps crossed the room, and then the ladder shifted as he began to climb. I crossed my arms across my chest and waited. His head popped up a second later, all smiling brown eyes.
“Electricity turns on after dark. Can I come in?” he asked.
I debated telling him no, but I feared he’d just come in anyway. So I shrugged. He seemed to take that as a yes, and climbed up, holding two packs of something wrapped in tin foil.
“C’mon.” He smiled as he crossed the small loft to sink onto the floor next to my mattress. “They had fresh butter today. You don’t wanna miss that!”
A wave of nausea hit me at the mere mention of food. “I’m really not hungry.”
He set the packets down, unwrapping them both and ignoring me. It looked like a thick slice of bread with some cooked meat and, as promised, butter.
“See I know you’re lying ’cause you haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday.” He nudged one of the packets closer to me. “An’ you’re practically skin and—” He paused, his eyes flashing to my face in sudden realization. “—bones.”
I glared at him, daring him to ask. He pressed his lips together, but the corners twitched up.
“Just a few bites,” he wheedled, “c’mon, Bones.”
“If I eat a few bites will you leave?” I snapped.
He grinned at that. “Yep.”
I grabbed the bread and took a bite. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had butter, and the rich flavor that melted on my tongue tasted like heaven. I forced myself to take another bite before I lost my nerve. As I swallowed, Trey grinned at me like I’d just made his day.
“Good job!” he cheered.
I threw the rest of the bread at him. He caught it and took a big bite, still grinning.
“Now go away,” I growled at him.
He shook his head, laughter dancing in those warm eyes. “I didn’t say when I’d leave.”
I glared at him.
“Don’t tell me you’d rather sit up here by yourself.” Trey grinned. “You’d miss my sparkling personality.”
“Like I’d miss a hole in the head,” I shot back at him.
He laughed and took another bite of my bread, apparently not at all bothered by me.
“You should try the deer steaks,” he said between bites. “They’re not bad.”
“What happened to the last healer?” I asked instead.
Trey sobered. “Madame executed him after Viper, her partner, died.”
I wasn’t exactly surprised. “How’d Viper die?”
“He got real sick with a fever. Lotta people died.”
It sounded like the same sickness that killed off so many of the Reapers a few months before everything went to shit. Juck had boasted about being untouchable, and only I knew he’d fallen ill, and I’d healed him. I’d spent many nights sobbing in the crude medical tent over sick folks gasping for air and begging their forgiveness after they breathed their last breath. Vulture had acted sorry for me, but I knew he’d just been calculating how to use me and the Reapers’ deaths to fuel his takeover.
“She thinks Viper was poisoned. That…” He hesitated. “That man, Hojo? Madame got it in her head he was the one who carried it out.”
I could practically hear my heart thudding heavily in my chest, shame twisting my lungs into knots.
“We’ve been without a healer since then,” Trey continued. “Nobody wanted to volunteer after that.”
I stared at a spot on the wall. I didn’t blame ’em. I wasn’t sure what was worse. Not having healing powers or having them and not being allowed to use them. Either way, you had to watch a lot of people die, and that stuck with you.
Trey’s arm moved toward me, and I flinched out of habit. He jerked his hand back.
“I wasn’t gonna hit you.”
I shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his eyes and hating the heat creeping up my neck.
“Bones, I’m never gonna hit you.” He sounded sad and it made me furious.
“Madame—“ I started angrily, but he interrupted.
“What Madame did last night was fucking evil,” he said, his voice low and earnest. “I’m not gonna lie to you and say everyone here is a good person. But I won’t ever lay a hand on you, I swear. Nobody in our crew will. Mac is real strict about that kinda shit. And if anybody messes with you, they’ll deal with us.”
I thought back to Mac grabbing my arm, the rage in his eyes, and how I thought he would hit me. Sure. I’ll believe that when I see it.
After a beat, Trey sighed and sat back again. “What I was gonna say was, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about ending up like our old healer. He obviously couldn’t do miracles like you.”
I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat. My eyes burned. Miracles. No, I wasn’t afraid of being sentenced to death. I was too valuable to be executed, and there were plenty of things worse than death. I learned that lesson while still a child.
“Seriously, you should try these steaks,” Trey said again, his voice lighter.
“If I eat them, will you go away immediately?” I snapped.
“Deal,” Trey said with a giant grin.
I rolled my eyes and took a bite, ignoring how my stomach churned. I managed to eat most of one of the steaks before I had to stop. I clenched my jaw and tried to convince myself I was fine.
“You ok?” Trey asked, looking up from his food.
I lurched to my feet and darted around him, sliding down the ladder. I barely made it outside before I hurled up everything I’d eaten into the dirt.
“Whoa,” someone said. “What the fuck?”
The clinic door opened and slapped shut behind me.
“What’s goin’ on?”
“I dunno,” Trey answered.
They gave me some space as I finally managed to stop heaving, to my relief. A handkerchief appeared and I took it without looking at who offered it, wiping my mouth. My face burned again. I hated looking weak like this. I straightened and forced myself to turn around to see Sam standing beside Trey. He was shorter but built the same, lean and wiry. His blond hair was buzzed close to his head and a short beard covered his jaw.
“You ok?” Trey asked again.
“Fine,” I snapped.
“Yeah, looks like it,” Sam said dryly. “I often puke my guts out when I’m fine.”
I couldn’t even muster the energy to glare at him. I tried to offer the handkerchief back, but Sam shook his head.
“Nah, you keep it.”
I shoved it into my pocket and ducked my head, letting my hair shield my face, and tried to slide past them back to the clinic. Trey moved to block me.
“What’s going on? Are you sick?” he asked.
“No.”
Trey gave me a look of disbelief, and Sam’s eyes narrowed. I desperately wished they’d let me just go back inside and leave me alone.
“I’m fine, I swear,” I snapped.
“C’mon, Bones,” Trey said more firmly, “what’s going on?”
“Are you pregnant?” Sam asked.
“Gods, no.” I couldn’t contain the horror at the thought.
“So what’s goin’ on then, Shortcake?” Sam pushed.
I bit the inside of my cheek hard, refusing to react to the nickname. Trey gave Sam a look, raising an eyebrow, but he didn’t comment either. Gods, I almost missed the Reapers. Sure they were all violent assholes, but at least none of them pestered me like this.
“It’s nothing. This always happens when I haven’t eaten for a long time. I’m fine.”
Sam crossed his arms. “Whad’d’ya mean ‘always’?”
“Gods, will you just let it go?” I snapped.
This time when I pushed past them, they let me, but they both followed me inside. I bit back a scream of frustration.
“Out with it, Shortcake,” Sam threatened. “You’re a part of this crew now, and we need to know why you’re gettin’ sick. Don’t make me get Mac. He gets real pissy when we disrupt his beauty sleep.”
I gave him an incredulous look. What the fuck? Why were they making me talk about this? Were they worried I wouldn’t be able to do my job?
“I can heal just fine,” I snapped. “It’s not gonna affect my work, alright?”
Trey and Sam exchanged a look I didn’t understand.
“We’re not asking just ’cause of that,” Trey said, studying me far too closely. “We’re asking ’cause we want to make sure you’re not sick.”
“I already told you I’m not sick!” I cried, frustrated.
“So explain it then,” Sam demanded.
I glared at them both. They weren’t gonna let it go. I wrapped my arms around myself, ignoring the pain in my shoulder as the stitches stretched.
“Juck didn’t let me eat when I pissed him off. It happened all the fucking time so it’s not a big deal. I know how to deal with it. I just have to eat small amounts of bland shit for a while until my body adjusts and then I’ll be fine.”
The silence crackled with tension.
“He starved you when he was mad?” Sam asked.
“It’s not a big deal,” I said again, feeling defensive.
“It is a big deal,” Trey said, and I flinched at the anger in his voice. “How long would he make you go without food?”
“I dunno. It varied.”
“But long enough that you get sick when you try to eat?”
“I can still work just fine.”
“No, Bones! That’s not what we’re upset about.” Trey let out a frustrated breath. “You never should have been treated like that.”
My throat closed up. I didn’t want to go down that path. Dwelling on it wouldn’t change anything. I just had to keep going.
Survive, Wolf agreed.
“Nobody is gonna do that here,” Sam said. “Not while you’re in our crew. What kinda bland food do you need?”
I stared at them, anger creeping back over me. I did not fucking understand them at all. “So torture is fine, but starving somebody isn’t?”
“No torture is not fine,” Trey snapped.
“Trey,” Sam warned.
They glared at each other for a moment before Trey heaved a frustrated sigh and turned back to me.
“What kinda bland food do you need?” he repeated Sam’s question.
I stared at the two of them for a moment before giving up. “Broth is the best,” I muttered.
“We can do that,” Trey said.
“Yep. Gimme a few minutes,” Sam said before slipping back out the door.
I didn’t miss the warning look he gave Trey before he left though. I didn’t need to know exactly what it meant to know that I did not want to be a part of it. Trey sighed again and scrubbed a hand over his face.
“Sorry I pushed you to eat too much,” he said.
I stared at him, my thoughts tumbling all over each other. As horrible as being with Juck had been, at least I knew what to expect from him and the Reapers. I hated feeling so off-balance here, hated not knowing how to predict what would happen.
Trey opened his mouth to say something else, but the door burst open, startling us. Two giant men stumbled in, both of them bleeding everywhere and shouting drunkenly about it. I started moving, relieved at the familiarity of snarling at them to shut the fuck up and sit. I knew how to do this.
I didn’t care for the details, but they wanted to tell me the whole story. A knife fight with a couple rusters, whatever that meant, broke out at a place called Mootzie’s. The two men looked like they did some sort of hard labor, judging by their bulky muscles and numerous scars. The first one stood taller with thick stubble on his face and a tattoo near his left eye. He’d taken a knife to the side, but the gash wasn’t too deep. The other had a large, bushy beard, and tattoos all up and down his muscled arms. He’d grabbed a blade with his bare hand and nearly sliced his fucking fingers off. I told the one with the gash on his side to put pressure on it while I dealt with his buddy’s hand. It was a mess, sliced muscles and tendons and blood and dirt everywhere. I wrapped my hands around the wound, and they finally quieted as the warmth spread from my hands into his injured hand. They stared open-mouthed when I let go. The man opened and closed his hand. If I hadn’t had my powers, he would have lost at least one finger, but instead, a long pink scar spanned his entire hand.
“Fucking hell,” he slurred. “Blaze, look at this.”
They peered at his hand and then up at me, their eyes wide.
“Fuck,” Blaze agreed.
“Get off my chair so I can take care of your friend,” I said.
“I’d let you take care of me any day, doc,” he said, leaning forward and giving me a grin. “You wanna get a drink with me?”
“No,” I snapped. “Now get off.”
“I could get off—” he started, wiggling his eyebrows with a grin, but Trey cleared his throat. “Alright, alright, Mason.” He slid off the chair, but before I could move, he grabbed my hand. “Name’s Zip. If you change your mind about that drink, lemme know.”
I jerked my hand free, turning to Blaze. “Alright, you’re next.”
Blaze’s shallow wound only needed a few stitches, but he wasn’t too pleased that he had to deal with a needle. As I gathered my supplies, I asked Trey in a low voice for a narc. He raised his eyebrows, looking confused, but he unlocked the safe and handed me one anyway. I prepped it and tucked it in the band of my pants where I could reach it fast.
“Why don’t I get the magic?” Blaze growled, his eyes on the small needle in my hands.
“Because this is barely anything,” I snapped at him, trying to move his arm out of the way. “Stop being such a baby.”
“Fuck that!” Blaze bellowed, taking a swing at my head.
Trey moved, but I ducked, grabbing the narc and stabbing it into his meaty thigh with more force than necessary. He blinked down at it, his string of curses slurring as the drug hit him. When he toppled back into the chair with a heavy thud, I let out the breath I held. Trey had halted an arm's length away from me. I moved my glare to Zip who stood next to the table watching. He raised his hands and backed away.
“Do what you gotta do, Doc,” he said.
They stayed silent as I stitched the wound closed with steady hands. After I got him bandaged, Zip lifted his unconscious buddy over his shoulder.
“Hope I see ya around, Doc,” he said with a grin.
I didn’t answer, turning to wash my hands in the ice-cold water.
“Why didn’t you use magic?” Trey asked from where he stood by the table.
“I figured I should save it for emergencies,” I muttered, exhaustion creeping into my bones. I’d never reached my limit before when I only healed Juck and sometimes Grip and Vulture. I didn’t even know I had a limit. Now I did, and it’d be stupid not to conserve my power.
“Like when some idiot gets shot in the gut on a rooftop?”
I looked over at him as I shut off the water. He grinned at me, leaning on the table, his expression so open I could practically hear his invitation to tease him back. C’mon, play with me.
My heart clenched and I turned away as I started disinfecting my tools with a bottle of alcohol.
“Why’d he call you ‘Mason’?” I asked.
“That’s my surname,” he answered.
“What’s a ruster?”
“People who live in the slums.”
The door opened again, and Sam entered. He held up a steaming tin mug.
“Here you go, Shortcake. Wasn’t sure how much broth you wanted,” he said. “I can get more if you want.”
Shortcake. Well, the Reapers had called me much worse.
“Here, I’ll finish cleaning up.” Trey moved next to me, reaching for the tools in my hand.
I handed them over, feeling uncomfortable, and took the mug from Sam, sipping it while watching Trey tell Sam what just happened. When he got to the part where Blaze took a swing at me, Sam’s face darkened.
“Sorry I wasn’t here to help,” he said.
Before I could say anything, Trey beat me to it. “She didn’t need any help,” he said, grinning at me. “She was prepped with a narc and knocked him out as soon as he tried to hit her.”
Sam’s face broke into a wide grin. “Atta girl.”
I stared at them over the mug. Did they want something? Was that the reason they were being nice? None of this made any sense and I hated feeling on edge as I tried to figure it out.
“What do you want?” I asked sharply. “You think I’m gonna suck you off for this or something?”
They both looked at me with matching startled expressions.
“Gods, what?” Sam asked.
“What? No!” Trey said at the same time.
“I mean, not unless you want to,” Sam added with a smirk that vanished with a grunt when Trey elbowed him, hard.
A part of me relaxed, but the anger remained. “Why are you doing this then? What the fuck do you want?”
“Doing what?” Sam asked, rubbing his side and glaring at Trey.
“All of this!” I shook the half-empty mug at them.
Sam’s brows drew together as he stared at me, but pity filled Trey’s face and it only made me angrier.
“Don’t,” I snapped before he could say anything. “I don’t need your help.”
“We know,” Trey said, his eyes gentle. “Just ’cause you don’t need help doesn’t mean you gotta do everything by yourself.”
“You’re part of our crew now,” Sam said.
My brow furrowed.
“We take care of our own,” he added like I was the stupid one.
“I got one of your crew killed.”
“You didn’t kill Exo,” Trey said, even as sadness flashed through his eyes. “Exo disobeyed orders.”
“Yeah, that’s not on you.” The pain in Sam’s voice was clear, but he seemed to force a grin. “I mean, would I have preferred to avoid a fuckin’ nighttime rooftop chase where I nearly fell through that damn tin roof and lost my favorite knife? Yes.”
“All I know is you sure as hell didn’t have to save my life, but you did it anyway.” Trey’s face was still serious.
“And all I know is you’re one of us now. So you can quit the lone wolf bullshit.” Sam crossed his arms, but he was still grinning.
I stared at them, clutching the mug. “There’s no way you all feel like that.”
Mac and Lana’s angry faces flashed through my head. I hadn’t seen Lana since we arrived at the hold, and I dreaded the next time we ran into each other.
They looked uncomfortable for the first time.
“Well, no.” Trey allowed.
“Not everyone can be as smart as us,” Sam smirked.
“But everyone is loyal to Mac. They’ll follow orders even if they don’t like it,” Trey added.
I didn’t believe that, but I didn’t argue. I couldn’t afford to believe it, no matter how good it sounded.
Don’t let your guard down, Wolf agreed.
So I just sipped my broth and watched them argue over how to organize my tools. It wasn’t long afterward that Griz came to take over. Trey and Sam cheerfully told me goodnight and Griz took up his spot outside the door. The sudden silence didn’t feel quite as welcome as I thought it would.
I scowled at myself. Get it the fuck together.
I climbed up the ladder and with a lot of effort managed to pull it up into the loft with me. I straightened, panting but relieved. I toed off my boots and climbed under the blankets on my bed. The lumpy mattress was the most comfortable thing I’d slept on in a long time. The blankets smelled clean, like soap. I had an entire house all to myself. After twelve years of sleeping in tents, this felt almost luxurious. There was no sand in the bed or my hair, no danger of the wind whipping a pole out of the ground, and no other person whose presence was a constant threat. I didn’t have to fall asleep terrified of what he might do in the middle of the night.
It was so close to what I’d pretended not to want for twelve years. It was so close to an actual home.
C’mon, you’re smarter than that, Wolf snarled.
I know. I know.
Madame summoned me again two days later. I’d spent the past couple of days healing and organizing. Most people who walked into the clinic just needed a few stitches or some medicine. I could tell the people here had grown used to patching themselves up and that most continued to do so despite having a healer again. I didn’t blame them for not trusting me. I used my downtime to sort through the previous healer’s supplies. Sam brought me broth for every meal and my stomach slowly adjusted.
Griz and Sam were both inside the clinic, talking to each other as I tried hard to ignore them. They acted more like brothers than crew mates, constantly joking with each other. And gods, they were loud. When the door opened, I turned, and my heart sank at the sight of Mac. I hadn’t seen him since Madame’s interrogation, and I wasn’t excited to see him now.
“Madame wants you,” he said.
Griz and Sam went quiet as I put away the tools I’d been cleaning. I hoped they didn’t notice how my hands had started trembling.
“Where’s Trey?” Sam asked.
“In the bunkhouse,” Mac responded.
I pretended not to notice the looks they were exchanging. There was some unspoken shit happening. I finished my work and turned back around, wiping my sweaty palms on my pants. Griz and Sam were both frowning, but they didn’t say anything. Mac just glanced at me and strode out the door, expecting me to follow.
Mac led the way a few paces ahead of me. The closer we got to the watchtower, the more my hands shook, and I tried to steel myself. As soon as Mac opened the doors, we could hear the screams, and they only grew louder as we descended the stairs. My panicked urge to flee felt like it was choking me. If I turned around and moved quietly, Mac might not even notice—
As though he heard my frantic thoughts, he turned and stared at me, that muscle in his jaw ticking. I stopped in my tracks. When he strode up the stairs toward me, I panicked and retreated up a step, but he caught my forearm in a tight grip.
“What the fuck?” I seethed, yanking against his grip.
“You really gonna tell me you weren’t thinkin’ about running?” he said without even looking at me.
I clenched my jaw to keep my mouth shut, but I wasn’t sure if I was holding back from cursing at him or begging him for help.
A middle-aged man sat restrained in the chair. Madame had already carved his arm up like she’d been too impatient to wait for me before starting. His screams echoed off the walls as he sobbed and swore he didn’t know anything. Mac dragged me in and shut the door. Madame barely spared a glance at us, which made me feel even worse. She didn’t seem worried that I would refuse to come.
I tucked myself into the corner, rubbing my arm where Mac had grabbed me. Mac leaned against the wall a few steps away, his face blank. The man in the chair screamed again, and I wished I would have run. What would Madame do if I refused to heal him?
Do what you gotta to survive, Wolf snarled.
Madame didn’t ask that many questions. Mostly she repeated ones like who do you report to? And where did you get that gun? Questions I didn’t quite understand and tried not to think about too much. I didn’t want to be involved in whatever was happening at the Vault. I just wanted to keep my head down and get the fuck out of this place as soon as I could.
When Madame called me up to heal the man’s many wounds, I hesitated, watching her face. Once she realized I hadn’t moved, her cold gaze narrowed on me.
“Bones,” she repeated in a dangerous voice, “you need some motivation?”
Several of her men chuckled, and my stomach dropped. I pushed off the wall and moved forward. The man stared at me with fear in his eyes as he sobbed. I wrapped my hands around his arm and called on my healing powers. He gasped as they began to flow into him, but I couldn’t look at him.
You fucking coward. That wasn’t Wolf’s voice. That was mine.
Madame hovered behind me as I worked and again that sugary sweet smell drifted around me, mixing with the smell of blood and urine in a way that made my stomach turn. Her men prowled around the chair like wild animals. They watched Madame torture the man, eyes bright with excitement. After the third or fourth healing, two of them surrounded me as I tried to retreat to my corner.
“You know, I think I got something I need you to take a look at, Bones,” one of them leered.
I tried to move past him, but the second one blocked me.
“Me too.” He grinned, licking his lips. “Been hurtin’ me so bad.”
“C’mon, sweetheart, help me out.” The first leaned over, grabbing my wrist and yanking me toward him.
I tried to jerk away, furious, but Mac appeared at my side and grabbed the man’s arm. He didn’t even say anything, he just stared him in the eyes with an expression that made goosebumps rise on my arms. The man sneered, but I could see the fear he tried to hide. He dropped my wrist, and I darted back to my corner.
“Calm down, Mac.” He spit in the hay. “We’re just havin’ some fun.”
“Not with her you’re not,” Mac said, his voice cold and hard.
The two of them muttered some more but retreated to where Madame was sawing off one of the man’s fingers as he screamed.
I stared at the hay and tried to feel numb, to shove my mind out of my head and let it float away like I’d done so many times with Juck. Mac came back to lean on the wall, a lot closer to me than he’d been before, but I didn’t look at him. The next time I stepped forward when Madame called me, he followed like a protective shadow. Madame’s men glared at him and muttered to each other, but no one tried to grab me.
Madame eventually killed the man by slicing his throat and dismissed us. It didn’t seem to matter how many people I’d seen killed because it still made my heart lurch into my throat when she struck that death blow. The man’s body slumped in the chair, blood dripping onto the floor, and I stood there staring, my brain stuck on the stupid thought I didn’t even know his name. Mac grabbed my elbow and started hauling me out, and I let him, my legs weak and shaky.
Once we got a safe distance from the watchtower, Mac stopped and turned to me. I kept my eyes down, trying to hide the fact they were brimming with tears, and attempted to calm my ragged breathing as I waited for whatever he wanted to say. But he didn’t say anything. He stood there silently for so long that fear began creeping in. When I couldn’t take it any longer, I finally peered up at him. In the dim light, I could tell he was looking at me, but I couldn’t see his expression.
“You good?” he asked in a low voice.
I stared at him. Good?!
Fury brought me back to my senses. “Fuck you, Mac,” I hissed at him before I wrenched my arm free from his grip and pushed past him, striding toward the clinic.
He didn’t try to stop me, but I heard him follow me a few paces behind.
When I angrily threw the door open, I faltered on the threshold. Trey, Griz, and Sam were standing around the exam table. All of them turned toward me.
“Bones—” Trey’s eyes were wide with concern as he moved forward.
I pushed past him, storming to the ladder.
“Bones?” he called after me, but I didn’t stop.
I heard the door open and shut again as Mac followed me inside. I retreated to the corner where they couldn’t see me and stripped out of my blood-covered clothes, throwing on Clarity’s thin tank top and the extra pants Jax had brought over. I wished I had a sink up here so I could clean the blood out of my clothes without having to go back down where the four men spoke in low angry tones. I debated just letting the blood stain my clothes, but I didn’t feel like seeing the reminder of what I’d done every time I got dressed.
Clenching my jaw, I grabbed my dirty clothes and went back down the ladder. Everyone stopped talking as soon as I did, and my cheeks heated, knowing the brand on my chest was visible. I tried my best to ignore them, going straight to the sink and dumping my clothes in. I turned the water on, lathered my hands with soap, and scrubbed viciously until my skin stung. Behind me, the four men resumed talking.
“He didn’t know anything,” Mac said.
“I knew that was a personal vendetta,” Sam muttered.
“Keep an eye on Dale and Pike,” Mac said. “They were real interested in Bones.”
My spine stiffened, but I didn’t turn around.
“What do you mean?” Trey asked.
“They tried to make a pass at her.”
I bit back a furious scoff at Mac’s phrasing.
“Bones, you ok?” Trey appeared at my elbow, and I flinched, anxiety still thrumming through me. “Sorry,” he added, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I ignored him, moving on from my clothes to the blood streaked up my arms. He stood quietly beside me, watching me try to scrub my skin off my bones.
When Trey spoke again, the softness in his voice made my heart clench. ““Bones, are you ok?”
I’m fine,” I lied through my teeth.
He frowned, but I looked away, checking my reflection in a metal pot to make sure I got all the blood off. I rinsed the rag out and draped it on the side of the sink before gathering up my wet clothes and pushing past him again to go back to the loft. No one tried to talk to me as I disappeared upstairs again. I draped my wet clothes on the single chair to dry and crawled onto my mattress, pulling my worn blanket over my head. The four of them stayed downstairs talking quietly for a long time as I lay curled in a ball, trying to forget the sound of the man’s screams. Eventually, I heard Mac, Griz, and Trey say goodnight to Sam who had the night watch.
“Night, Shortcake,” he called, but I didn’t respond. When he flipped the single bulb off, it was a relief to be plunged into darkness.