The Rules of Survival (Mercer #1)

RoS Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

I handed the phone back to Owen, who was deep in thought. "How did he know it was you?"

"What?" I asked, shifting Tanner in my arms. She'd stopped crying, but her iron grip around my neck hadn't loosened. I rubbed small circles against her back in an effort to soothe her. There was no doubt in my mind that it wasn't working. Her breathing came in great uneven gasps, and every other exhale she shuddered.

"Your friend. How did he know it was you calling?"

If the situation wasn't so dire, I might have laughed. "Previous experience. I'm probably the only person dumb enough to keep calling until he picks up."

Truth be told, I'd just taken a big gamble. Last night, Justice had smashed his phone into pieces; I'd only put the remains in the trash this afternoon. So I'd had no idea whether he was operating under the same number, or whether he'd bothered getting a new phone yet at all. Maybe my luck was starting to change.

"Your hand's still bleeding."

Yeah, or not.

I glanced down at my right hand. Sure enough it was still weeping crimson, and until I could clean it properly I wouldn't know what I was dealing with. If the stinging, throbbing pain radiating from it was any indication, things weren't looking too good.

"Do you want me to look at it?"

It must have been the astonished expression on my face, because Owen laughed and held his hands up in a what-can-you-do kind of way. "Hey, I'm no expert, but I could always get you a bandage or something. Maybe even a towel with the way it's leaking."

I was shaking my head before he'd even finished speaking. "Thanks, but it's fine."

Not really, but I didn't want to put him to any more trouble. Besides, my right hand was turning out to be seriously bad juju. First I'd broken two of my fingers and badly bruised the rest, and now I'd sliced it open on somebody's knife. Who needed a towel? I was expecting something else to happen to it before the night was out. Maybe I would set it on fire or accidentally chop it off altogether.

It took severe reassurances and in the end brute strength to get Tanner off of me. I sat her on the floor and crouched in front of her, careful not to get any blood on Owen's mother's creamy carpet. I got the feeling she wouldn't be impressed to discover a "lawbreaker" had soiled her home.

"Tanner, sweetie, how're you doing?"

She sniffed in an attempt to stop the flow of her running nose. Her cheeks were wet and mottled red. Using the sleeve of my shirt underneath Kalen's leather jacket, I mopped up her face as best I could. When I was done, she yanked her legs towards her body and started rocking back and forth, her chin resting on her knees.

"Oh, great," I muttered, scrubbing a hand down my face. A sharp, searing pain told me I'd just used my right hand.

"Wow, okay, you've just smeared red over your forehead and nose," Owen said, as if I hadn't come to this conclusion myself. His face pinched in a way that suggested it grossed him out.

I wiped at it absently, too tired to care, and learned my body was still in the midst of recovering from shock. My entire upper body was shaking. Any movement I made was jerky and unsteady. Owen seemed to pick up on this too. He narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. "You okay?"

I started to say yes, then screamed when something – no, someone – pounded on the front door. Raw fear assuaged me so hard and fast it was an effort not to throw up on the spot. I hadn't realized I'd gripped the front of Tanner's coat and hauled her up to her feet until her smaller hands came up to cover mine. She squeezed so hard my fingers felt like they were being broken all over again. I maneuvered her behind me, flattening her against the wall.