The side of my face where Bruno slapped me this morning is throbbing like a son of a b***h. Faylinn is lying on the bed across from me, black and blue bruises covering her neck, chest, and legs. I don't think I understood the pain of what she went through with Inferno and his men until I watched it play out last night.
She made a choice, and there wasn't a f*****g thing I could do to stop it. I'm still pissed— at her for making the choice, at them for doing this to us. I'm angry at the world right now.
"Stop staring at me like that," she says, her voice hoarse as she winces. "I'm okay."
"You're not okay," I grit out, trying to keep my tears at bay. We've been here for a month. I hit sixteen weeks pregnant in two days, and instead of being at the doctor's with my ol' man, I'm sit
