Chapter 172
Jack
I groan and wake up.
It's dark.
I try to sit up.
My abdomen hurts like hell.
"Sunshine?"
"Nolan?"
No response.
That's weird.
Despite the pain in my abdomen, I stumble toward the bathroom and fumble with the switch until the light comes on. My eyes hurt from the sudden brightness. They focus.
I look at myself in the mirror.
My heart drops.
The bandage around my torso is seeping red. My body is full of scars—everywhere. Bullet wounds. Knife wounds. Scarred, jarred skin from burns I'd forgotten I had.
No.
No.
No.
No.
I stumble back into the room. I turn on the light.
This is my apartment.
Not the palace.
Not the bedroom I share with Ciel and Nolan. Not the room where Lanny's crib sits in the corner.
This is the old place. The beach house? No. Smaller. Darker. A place I haven't seen in years.
I look at the cigarette butts on the bedside table. Next to a gun. Next to a phone. Next to a bloody shirt on the floor.
No.
No.
No.
It can't be.
