Broken World (Book 3): Mad World (18 page)

19
Vivian

HADLEY IS IN THE KITCHEN when we get back to the condo, and Lexi sits at the small dining room table. I almost don’t recognize her. She’s clean, and she has her blonde hair slicked back into a ponytail. She’s wearing more of the condo’s cast-off clothes. She doesn’t smell. All clean and dressed like this, Lexi is actually really attractive. It makes my stomach roll, because I know she was probably popular when she first got to the Monte Carlo.

She gives me a hesitant smile when I walk in. Like she doesn’t know what to say or how to act in this situation. I can’t blame her, really. I don’t have the first idea what to talk to her about.

“Coffee?” Hadley asks, not even looking up.

“Please.” I grab a couple muffins and toss one to Axl. Then lean against the counter and unwrap it while I look around. Where did Jon disappeared to?

Lexi clears her throat, and I jump. The muffin slips from my fingers, but I manage to catch it before it falls.

“Sorry,” she says. “I just wanted to thank you for saving me.”

Axl disappears into the back bedroom. Probably to get a shirt. He’s been uncomfortable around Hadley since I told him she thought he was hot. Of course, now there’s Jon… I’m not sure what that all means.

“I’m just glad it worked out.” I can’t look directly at her, so I focus on my muffin. Lexi may have gotten out, but we left a lot of other women behind. “I wish we could have done more.”

My statement is followed by total silence. What is there to say? We did what we had to. Doesn’t mean we have to feel good about it. Those other women… Well, hopefully some kind of miracle comes along so they can get out, too.

Axl comes back—with a shirt on—and leans against the counter next to me. His fingers rub circles on my lower back, sending tingles through my body. Lexi looks away. Her hands shake. Hadley squirms. The atmosphere is tense. I don’t know have a clue what to do about it. It’s going to take them some time to get over what happened.

If they can.

The door opens, and Lexi lets out a little yelp. Hadley’s mug slips from her hand. It drops to the floor and shatters, spraying coffee everywhere. The hot liquid hits my calves, and I jump back, slamming my teeth into my lower lip to keep from cussing. Dammit.

“Oh my God! Vivian, I’m so sorry!” Hadley grabs a towel and starts dabbing at my legs, they’re covered in little red dots. Every time she brushes the towel against one, it stings.

“It’s okay,” I say, trying to brush the towel away. Her hands are shaking. I grab them in mine. “Hadley, it’s okay.”

She bites her lip and finally drops the towel. Her green eyes swim with pain and misery. I should have done more to protect her. There had to have been some way. Something I could have said or done. Something…

I know it’s not true, but it doesn’t stop me from blaming myself.

“What’s going on?” Jon asks from the living room.

“I spilled my coffee.” Hadley stares at the puddle of coffee on the floor.

Axl kneels down so he can get a closer look at the burns on my legs. “You gotta go see the doc now.” His fingertips brush a red spot the size of a golf ball right next to the cut on my calf. I wince, and he shakes his head. “You’re goin’.”

I’m pretty sure Axl is overreacting, but before I can say anything Hadley gets up, and I notice she has burns on her legs as well. She didn’t even react when the coffee splashed on her.

“Hadley, you’re burnt.”

She stares down at her legs and blinks. Once. Twice. Three times. She just keeps staring.

“Come on,” Axl says. “You’re both goin’ to the clinic.”

I don’t put up a fight. There’s no way the little red spots on my legs need medical attention, but I want Hadley to go. I’m not sure if Joshua can even do anything for her. It’s not like he has a magic pill she can take that will make her forget what she’s been through, but it will make me feel better. A little.

***

Joshua is still cleaning Mitchell’s injuries when we walk in. With the blood washed off his face, the full extent of Angus’s fury is visible for the first time. It isn’t pretty. Both Mitchell’s eyes are swollen, and his once perfect nose is purple and crooked. His lower lip is split on the right side and his upper lip on the left. He has a big gash on his right cheek and another just below his eye. His shirt is off, and on top of everything else, purple spots have already started to form on his abdomen.

Mitchell glares when we walk in, and Joshua barely looks up from cleaning the cuts. “What’s going on?”

“I spilled my coffee.” Hadley looks dazed.

Joshua’s head snaps up, and his eyes narrow on Hadley. He presses his lips together, then looks at me. I can see the question in his eyes, and I know he’s asking me if she’s okay. I shake my head.

“You okay?” Joshua asks softly. I’ve never hear his voice sound so gentle. Not like he’s a rough guy or anything, but this is a side of him I’ve never seen. I guess some doctors do have bedside manner.

“They got some burns on their legs,” Axl says. He glares at Mitchell, who glares right back.

Joshua nods slowly for a few seconds, giving Hadley a closer look. He sighs and goes back to cleaning Mitchell’s cuts. “I’ll take a look at it in a minute.”

The door opens behind us, and I turn to find Winston standing there. Staring straight at Mitchell. “I was looking for you, Axl.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off the battered man on the table for even a second. Axl and I look back and forth between Mitchell and Winston. Something’s up. Winston motions for Axl to follow him, then turns and walks out of the clinic. Now what?

Axl nods and squeezes my hand. “Be right back.”

“That’s all I can do for now,” Joshua says, stepping away from Mitchell.

Mitchell doesn’t even look at him. His face is swollen and purple, but he looks more pissed off than hurt. Like it’s Angus’s fault. Sure, he went too far, but Mitchell asked for it. You can’t be a selfish prick and expect no one to retaliate. Especially these days. Especially when you’re living with Angus.

Joshua turns, and his eyes go to Hadley. She’s staring at the wall, barely moving. Her shoulders are so tight they look like they’re made of cement. “Hadley, I don’t know what happened out there but—” He breaks off and looks at Mitchell. “Why don’t you come back to the office so we can talk in private?”

Hadley nods, but she doesn’t really seem to be focusing. Joshua leads her to the back. Leaving me alone with Mitchell. My favorite person.

I don’t look his way. Just because I have to be in the same room with him doesn’t mean I have to acknowledge he exists. My foot taps against the floor rapidly, making a slapping noise that echoes through the almost-empty clinic. Mitchell shifts, and the vinyl bed he’s sitting on crunches under him. My skin crawls. I cross my arms over my chest and tap harder. Faster.

“So what’s this I hear about Vegas?” Mitchell says, making me jump. “The Monte Carlo, right? I heard they’ve got some guys there who have cleaned the place out.”

My foot stops moving, and my head snaps up. I narrow my eyes on his face, but I can’t respond. Who the hell does he think he is? After everything he just went through with Angus, he’s dumb enough to bring this up? To me! He doesn’t know the hell I went through out there. And it could have been so much worse.

Either he’s dumb or glutton for punishment, because he doesn’t let up. “You just have to walk in and they’ll give you a room?”

My jaw tightens, and I stand up straighter. Mitchell stares at me, but I can’t figure out what he’s thinking. His face is too battered and his eyes too swollen to really get a good read on him. Is he interested in going there? He’d fit in, although I can’t see him running around on the Strip. Risking his life isn’t really his style. Not even for sex.

“Pretty much,” I snap, clenching my jaw.

“They don’t make you go out to get supplies if you don’t want to?”

I glare at him unblinkingly. Is he serious?

“Doesn’t sound like a bad set-up,” he says when I don’t respond.

My body jerks. I bolt forward and slap Mitchell across the face so hard my hand stings. He falls backward, right off the bed, and lands on his head. His legs hit a tiny metal table with gauze and a few small instruments on it. It clatters to the floor, echoing through the room.

“What the hell?” Joshua runs out of the back room and stands looking back and forth between me and Mitchell just as the clinic doors fly open. Axl and Winston come running in.

“What happened?” Winston asks.

Axl purses his lips and stares at me for a few seconds before turning to Mitchell, who scrambles to his feet. His lip has started to bleed again. The blood drips down his chin and falls onto the floor.

“You people are fucking crazy!” he yells. “You’re worse than the zombies!”

I haven’t moved a muscle since I hit him. Every inch of my body is tight, and I can’t even blink. Mitchell deserves everything he got. Now I wish we’d let Angus beat him to death. Or better, we should have thrown his ass over the fence and let the zombies rip him apart.

***

“It doesn’t mean he’s going to do anything,” Winston says for the tenth time.

“Don’t mean he won’t,” Axl snaps.

He won’t stop pacing the living area. Or swearing. Sophia and Moira had to shut the door to the theater because Axl’s language was getting out of control. His fists are clenched, and he has his lips pursed. He looks just like Angus. For once, though, the similarity between the brothers isn’t what I’m focused on. At the moment, my only concern is Mitchell, what he might do, and if it will put us at risk.

“So what do you suggest?” Winston asks. He’s as calm as usual, taking Axl’s temper in stride. They’re a good balance.

“Throw the bastard out!” Angus yells from across the room.

“Shut up!” Axl snaps. He runs his hand through his hair and shakes his head, swearing again. Then he goes back to pacing.

“Axl?” Winston says calmly.

“I’m thinkin’!” He stops and purses his lips. Again. “We talked ‘bout the weapons.” Winston nods. “What else can we do?”

“You mean other than throw him out,” Nathan says.

Axl purses his lips even more. He looks like he took a bite out of something bitter. “Do we got another option?”

“We’re not doing
that,
” Winston says firmly. He turns and looks at me. “You were the only one there. What did you think was going on in Mitchell’s head?”

I know exactly what was going on in his head. “He sounded like he would love to be there. But I don’t know.” I exhale and chew on the inside of my cheek. “This is Mitchell we’re talking about. Do you really think he’d have the balls to do anything about it? You think he’d be willing to risk his ass to get there?”

“No.” Winston’s voice is firm. “I don’t.”

“Nobody’s asked the obvious question,” Nathan says. “Do we care?”

No one moves. No one breathes. The silence stretches across the room, and I stare at my hands. At the little crescent moons still on my palms. Barely visible now. Where I dug my nails into my skin when Emily was sick. When she died. Mitchell was such an asshole. He wanted to leave her behind to begin with, and he was so adamant she would turn. Then after it happened he was so smug, acting like we had all been fools. But we didn’t know. Anything could have happened.

“If he wants to leave, he can go,” I say.

Axl stops moving and presses his lips together so tightly they look fused. After a few seconds, he forces them apart and says, “We got two problems with that.” Winston nods like he’s giving Axl permission to go. “First, the cars.”

He’s right. Shit. It would mean Mitchell taking one of our cars. We need them. All we have left is the Nissan, Trey’s Cadillac, and the sedan Nathan had when we found them. We lost the Explorer.

Nathan lets out a big gust of air through his mouth. “We can’t lose a car.”

“What’s the second problem?” Winston’s watching Axl like he knows what he’s going to say. Like he’s thinking the same thing but wants confirmation.

“Asshole knows where the shelter is.”

I’m pretty sure everyone in the room sighs after that. I can’t think of a worse scenario. Mitchell running off to the casino, telling them where we are. It wouldn’t turn out good for us, that’s for sure.

“That’s it, then,” Nathan says.

“Unless we wanna throw him to the damn zombies, we’re stuck with him.” Axl grinds his teeth together, and his hands ball into fists. For a second, I think he’s going to hit something. He doesn’t. Thankfully.

“And you pansies still ain’t willin’ to do that?” Angus snaps, walking over to stand in front of the group. That vein is back on his forehead, and his lips are more pursed than ever.

I don’t want to come to Mitchell’s defense, but as much as I hate him, I just can’t lose sight of who I used to be. Things haven’t changed that much. Have they? Mitchell’s still a human being. On the outside, at least.

“Not until he gives us good reason,” I say. “We can’t throw him out just because no one likes him.”

Angus swears and stomps out of the room like a kid who didn’t get his way. I’m torn, though. Maybe Angus is right. There’s something about Mitchell that bothers me.