Page 126 of Forgotten Comeback

On a guttural cry, he lunges for me again, and I roll, landing a jab square against his nose. It begins gushing blood as he grabs me in a bear hug, and I throw my head forward, connecting with his forehead.

He stumbles back, and that’s when I see it: a huge spider in the corner of the window. My bloody hand snatches it from its web, and I open my fist over the guy’s face.

The spider lands on his nose.

He squeals as he begins bashing his head against the wall, over and over.

“Stop him before he kills himself!” one of the orderlies shouts.

I slip out of the melee and return to my corner as they try to get my opponent under control. “Smart trick, there, Spider,” one of the orderlies calls.

“I’m done fighting,” I announce.

“This incident can be written up in one of two ways. One: You attacked this poor man who’s already in psychosis, and you’ll get thrown into solitary for the foreseeable future. Or two: He got out of his restraints and began to self-harm, with no mention of your name. Which version would you like in your record?”

“Two,” I grit through my teeth.

“Smart choice. Back to your room, Spider. See you tomorrow night.” He does a little gunshot motion with his thumb and index finger.

Taylor

“It took weeks of me rotting in that hellhole before my brothers were able to spring me,” he says, giving his head a little shake.

“Gavin, I’m so sorry you went through that.” I wrap my other hand around where ours are connected. “What was the name of the hospital?”

“The Bridge. The bridge to hell, we all called it,” he says bitterly.

“Oh, shit. Wasn’t that the one that got shut down by the state?” I ask, and he nods. “I’m so sorry. What happened with your mom and brothers?”

“That’s my brothers’ story to tell, not mine,” he says quietly.

“By your brothers, you mean Inferno and John?” I take a wild guess.

. He slices his head in acknowledgment.

“And your dad?” I ask gently.

He hesitates.

“Gavin, you can trust me,” I encourage him.

He releases a dry breath. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but until things settle down, you having this information would put a target on your back.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Uh, in case you haven’t noticed, I already have a target on my back. Besides, I thought you were handling the Fabio problem.”

“It’s being handled,” he assures me.

Crossing my arms, I give him a look. “‘Being handled’ isn’t the same thing as ‘handled.”

“What if Fabio drugs you again? If you don’t know, you can’t tell,” Gavin argues.

“Do a better job of protecting your girl, and I won’t be in that position again,” I counter.

He laughs mirthlessly, his head hitting the back of the couch.

“He passed away recently, but Antonio Parisi was my dad and my brothers’ dad.”

My forehead bunches.