I held my sister's hand, brought it to my lips, and prayed. "Liliana, please open your eyes. You're all I have left." I squeezed her hand, closed my eyes, and didn't even fight the tears wanting to fall down my cheeks.

"Any signs?" A nurse asked as she entered the room.

And by how quietly the nurse entered, I thought she was trying to sneak in, not wanting to interrupt my time with my sister.

I shook my head, wiping away the tears that made a mess of my face. "No. Nothing."

The nurse looked at the machines, checked Liliana's fluids, and then logged into the computer beside the bed, typing in whatever information she had about Liliana. "The doctor will be in to talk with you shortly," she informed.

My eyes shot open wide. I hope he's not coming to the room to have me do something I will never do. "The doctor's not going to ask that I pull the plug on her, is he?"

Her face softened. "The doctor will be in for a check-up, and then he'll go from there."

"I can't let her go. Not yet," I agonized. "She's a tough girl. I know she'll come out of this."

She forced a smile. And I'm sure it's because she's heard the same line numerous times.

Two weeks ago, when I left her with Travis, I begged her to stay with me.

I begged. And I begged. And I begged.

She was adamant she and Travis would be fine. She fucking assured me they'd be back to normal.

Now, look at her...

Broken bones-Face. Ribs. Arms. Fingers. And her legs.

Battered face.

Bruises cover her entire body-literally. She's black and blue from head to toe.

And. Liliana's in a fucking coma, fighting for her life. Living off machines-making it where the doctors are deciding her fate.

The doctor finally came into the room and headed straight over to Liliana. Looking at me, he said, "The nurse tells me there hasn't been any sign of movement. Is that right?"

I choked on the tears that returned to assault me and nodded instead of answering.

He brought out his pen, shined the light in her eyes, and tested her reflexes in her hand, trying to get her fingers to move.

Fucking nothing.

He looked at her more, then walked over to the wall and looked at her recent brain scan images. "Liliana still has significant swelling in the brain."

Even though I felt it was what he'd say, my stomach still fell to the ground. I still had hopes of a change-a good change.

But nope.

I looked at Liliana and sighed. Quietly telling her, "You can do this. Open those eyes, and let's go after this fucking asshole who did this to you. You need to come out of this a winner..." I looked at the doctor, begging, "There must be something you can do to get her to wake up. There has to be! She needs to take this jerk down and put him where he belongs. Clark County Jail, or even better. High Desert State Prison."

His face instantly softened, and he sighed, saying, "I understand what and how you're feeling. And if there were something my staff or I could do, we'd do it in a heartbeat."

"You don't understand how I feel!" I yelled, my arms flying in the air, then my left hand slapped over my heart, patting it as I shouted, "Nobody understands this but me!"

The doctor's eyes turned to sadness. "Sawyer. I sympathize with you. I honestly do... I've been in your shoes before. And I once sat where you were, holding the victim's hand, praying for the same outcome you wish to happen with your sister."

Yeah, right? I'm sure all the doctors around here say the same damn thing. It's as if they're trained to say it.

"Sawyer, look at me."

"No," I cried, looking at Liliana. "You're only telling me what I wish to hear."

"You're wrong, Sawyer. I'm honest when I say this because it's true. Six years ago, I was here, doing exactly as you are."

My eyes shot up to his. "Six years ago? Who?"

"My daughter. My only child. Her husband beat her daily. She finally allowed me to help her get out of where she lived and to a shelter where she stayed for five months. The one day she finally felt safe, she decided to leave the shelter for a walk. It was the day her husband found and attacked her."

"I'm sorry."

"Believe me. If there's something I can do, I will do it in a heartbeat. I did everything I could for my daughter, and I'm doing everything I can for your sister. It's in someone else's hands now." He walked over to me and rested his hand on my shoulder. "Keep praying. It's all I can suggest you do."

***

I wasn't in the mood to deal with any drunk and obnoxious people today. Still, if I continue taking days off as I have been, I'll start seeing disconnection notices in the mail, and my credit cards will be slapped with high late payment fees, damaging my credit score. So, here I am, dealing with said people.

I turned, noticed a familiar face waving for my attention at the other end of the bar, and headed over to her. "Wow, we go without seeing each other for years, and here it is, twice in one week, we run into one another. How wild is that?"

"I know. Crazy how that works."

"What can I get for you?"

"I need four vodka cranberries, please."

Four? My brow lifted as I asked, "All for you?"

Lindsay laughed, shaking her head. "No." She turned around and pointed to the table with three other girls talking and laughing with one another. "They're for them as well. Do you remember Willow, Aubrey, and Dahlia?"

My head tilted to the side as I looked at each one. "I do. If I remember right, my cousin used to chase Dahlia around."

"That would be her."

"Small world."

I grabbed four glasses, filled them with ice, poured the vodka, and finished the drink with cranberry juice. "That'll be twenty dollars," I said, sliding the drinks toward Lindsay.

She looked at my arm as I took the money from her hand. "Is that what you had Roscoe do the other day?"

My eyes dropped to my arm. "Yes. He did an excellent job."

"He does good work." She stepped away from the bar, turned to her side, and lifted her skirt, showing me a massive-sized tattoo on her thigh. "He did this for me the other day, too. What do you think?"

My eyes widened. It's beautifully done. "Wow! I like it!"

She lowered her skirt and returned to the bar, smiling. "Thanks. I'm so damn happy with it. It was my first tattoo, and now I'm craving another one."

I coughed.

Is she serious?

"You had him do something like that for your first tattoo? Most people start small. You know. To get a feel for the pain and see if it's something they can handle."

She laughed, waving her hand over her face. "This was nothing. It was nothing compared to why I had him do this tat in the first place. Could you tell I have scars?"

"Scars?" I leaned over the bar and looked when she lifted her skirt again. "I don't see any scars. What happened?"

"Shark attack a couple of years ago."

"Wow..."

"I know, right? I still can't believe it happened. But Roscoe was able to turn my ugly horrendous scars into something beautiful, and I'm in heaven with how it turned out."

"He did good. Real good. I'm impressed."

She looked back at her friends, waved her friends to come over, then turned around. "If you don't mind, I'd love to sit and talk to you when you have time." She pointed over my shoulder. "But you also have some impatient guys over there trying to get your attention."

I looked to see who she was referring to and returned my gaze to her, rolling my eyes as I said, "They've been loud and obnoxious all day. I'm ready to cut them off," I smirked. "But I better see what they want. I'll be back to talk when I can."

I headed over to the young group of guys.

Now I know why they're as unpleasant as they are-Bachelor party.

"We need fifteen of those Three Wiseman shots, please."

"And one Cement Mixer," another guy from the group called out.

I shriveled at the thought of that one.

Yuck... must be for the bachelor himself. Lucky him...

I made all sixteen shots, brought them over, and as I set the Cement Mixer down, I shook my head. "Are you trying to kill the man before he gets married?"

One of the guys bellowed a laugh, then said, "How did you guess it was for him?"

"All these different shots you've been having me make today, I figured out this wasn't a birthday party-it's a bachelor party, and I feel you're trying to make the guy regret his decision to want to get married. I've seen it all before... anyway, that'll be one-hundred-ninety dollars, please."

"Keep the change, beautiful. Maybe when your shift is over, you can join us," the guy offered, winking as he dropped two-hundred-fifty dollars on the bar.

Typical jerks.

At least he tipped okay.

Instead of responding, I smiled and turned around.

I helped a couple more patrons, then returned to Lindsay and her friends. I remembered her always being friendly, something I needed to be around right now-friendly people. Plus, after saying she'd love to talk to me, I'm curious why that would be.

"We'll take another round," Lindsay happily said as I neared her.

While making their drinks, I noticed her looking at my arm again. So, I asked, "Do you remember my sister?"

"I do. Actually, I ran into Liliana and her husband a couple of months ago."

I grimaced before closing my eyes tight. "They never married."

"Her boyfriend, then. I was surprised to see they're still together."

Not anymore...

"She needed to leave him a long fucking time ago. But she refused to listen." I noticed her eyes grow more curious, and added, "Liliani is in a coma because of him."

Lindsay and her friends' mouths dropped. "What happened?" Willow asked.

"He beat the living fuck out of her. All because she tried leaving him."

"No way!" Aubrey said, shocked. "Is she going to be okay?"

I shrugged a shoulder, sighing, "It's not looking good. And lately, the doctors seem to be leaving subtle hints that I have to let her go. And it's something I can't do. I just can't," I choked, fighting the tears that wanted to leave my eyes-something I've been getting used to doing lately.

"Wow. I'm so sorry, Sawyer. I hope she can pull out of it!" Dahlia said hopefully, then looked at her friends, trying to smile. "God, I remember back in high school. She always had everyone laughing with the stunts she'd pull on everybody."

I giggled, remembering what she used to do and how she never changed. "Liliana was still like that until the day this happened."

"Oh yeah! I remember her getting suspended for pulling the fire alarms, setting off firecrackers in the lunchroom, and plastic wrapping the principal's entire car!" Lindsay laughed.

Now that made me laugh. "I remember that. Liliana also got suspended when she sent those love letters, and setting up dates to all those single teachers, trying to be the matchmaker-making each teacher think they were inviting each other out."

The girls laughed. "Good times," Aubrey giggled.

"Do you get off soon?" Lindsay asked. "Because if you are, you should come sit with us."

I pondered her offer for a second. I really should see my sister. But it would also be a nice break and a nice change of scenery away from the hospital-where I can actually talk to someone-Not someone who's dormant or drunk.

"My shift ends in ten minutes. Even though I should be at my sister's side, I'll stay and have a drink with you."

Lindsay's eyes lit up. "Great! We'll find a table."

How do I go from not seeing these girls for ten years or so, not talking to either of them in school, to seeing and talking to Lindsay twice in one week? And how did I go from feeling down and depressed to smiling and laughing? Something I haven't done in weeks.

This could be good for me.

As the next bartender set up her area, my shift ended, and I made myself an after-work drink. Something strong and something I desperately needed-a Long Island Iced Tea.

Lindsay smiled as I neared their table and scooted her chair to the side for me to slide in. "So what brought you, girls, here today?"

"We all had the day off, and since we hadn't gone out drinking in a while, we decided to come here," Dahlia enlightened.

"Of all the bars in Vegas, you find the one I work at," I smiled, sipping my cocktail. "Not that that's a bad thing," I added, realizing I sounded as if they weren't welcome here.

"Any time we get together like this, we take turns picking a bar to hang out at-each time, we choose a different bar," Lindsay said.

"To keep us from being recognized and not wanting to be called a regular. We do it this way. We hadn't been to this place in a long time, so here we are," Willow enlightened, finishing the last of her drink.

"I don't mean to change the subject, but you said Liliana's boyfriend was the one who put her in the hospital?" Lindsay asked.

I nodded. "Yes."

"Where is he? Is he in jail right now?"

I shook my head, frustratedly exhaling, "Unfortunately, no. I have no idea where he is. The police arrested Travis the night it happened, but he was immediately released. And nobody has seen him since."

"I hope they find him," Lindsay said.

"Me too. The sad part is there's nothing they can do right now. They can only slap him with a fine and anger management classes. Now, if the worst happens and Liliana succumbs to her injuries, he'll get arrested. And they won't release him until he has his day in court. It's saddening and heart-breaking the way the court system works."

"I hope all goes well for you and your sister. Just keep praying for a miracle," Aubrey hopefully suggested.

I couldn't handle talking about my sister any longer and looked at Lindsay's leg. "Now that I'm closer, can I see Roscoe's work again?"

Lindsay smiled as she proudly raised her skirt. "Now, can you see where the scars are?" I looked closer, and when I saw nothing, I shook my head no. Then she started pointing to the areas on her leg. "The big deep scars are here, here, here, here, and here."

I looked even closer. "You wouldn't even know it."

"I know. I just love what Roscoe did." Her eyes returned to me. "So, was that your first time there? At the Addicted To Pleasure And Pain tattoo parlor?"

"No. I've been there many times, actually. Usually, I see Jagger, but when I was there making the appointment, Roscoe had a cancelation, so I looked through his portfolio, liked what I saw, and decided to take that opening."

"He's a great guy," Willow smiled in awe. "And extremely sexy, too."

I felt my lips curving upward when my mind shifted to when Roscoe was inking me. Whenever I caught his piercing green eyes looking at me, the butterflies came out, and they tickled my walls like crazy.

Willow's right... He's very sexy.

Actually, the more I think back to him and his looks, Roscoe wasn't just sexy. The man's gorgeous.

And he has a great body too.

Roscoe's definitely a panty-dropper. That's for damn sure.

But he also has that gorgeous bad boy look that screams; I love entertaining women. I'm not a one-woman man. And breaking hearts is my thing. Sorry, chicky...

My smile faded. "He is," I agreed. "But men like him are also players."

"Not Roscoe," Lindsay admitted. "I can honestly say he isn't that way."

"Do you know him?"

"He's good friends with a friend of ours. Roscoe is the most down-to-earth guy you'll ever find in Vegas. He also has one of the biggest hearts a man could ever have," Lindsay praised. "And that's a fact."

"A man like that is hard to find, but if that's true, from my experience, he's most likely taken."

Lindsay's mouth quickly curled into one massive grin. "Well then. If you're in the market for a man who'll give you the world, treat you with respect, show you're the only one worth living for, love kids, and are very family-oriented. Then Roscoe is the guy for you," she pitched excitedly.

I couldn't help but laugh. "You sound like you're trying to sell him."

"What if she is?" Willow said joyfully. Then her eyes rolled up as she added, "You'd be insane if you didn't think the man was hot."

"He's more than hot. But to tell you the truth, if you're here trying to set me up with him, I want you to know I'm not in the market for any man. I don't trust any of them. None. Zilch. Nada."

Lindsay's lips twisted, and then an awkward silence filled the table. They all seemed shocked at my admission about my thoughts on men. But I have every right to feel the way I do.

What's trusting about them?

All men think about is satisfying their own needs-thinking they own the woman they're with. They also lie, cheat, accuse, and treat you as if you're worthless to them.

Lindsay snapped her wrist, blowing off what I said. "We're not here to set you up with him. It's just hard for us not to talk about a guy like Roscoe. One could only dream of having a man like him in your life." She smiled, looked at Willow, and laughed. "Then we have Willow here, who hates that he won't give in to her advancements."

"I don't hate it. Although, I'd kill to have at least one night with him," Willow admitted. "I just have these crazy feelings where he's one of those guys who's great in bed and focuses hard on satisfying the woman he's with. He's got that certain bad-boy sexual appeal to him that excites me. That's all. He may not look it, but he's also a softy-one giant teddy bear."

The obnoxious bachelor party guys got loud behind us, hooting, hollering, and chanting for the bachelor himself to down another crazy concoction. I rolled my eyes when the girls' eyes focused on them, laughing as they watched the guys do and say stupid things.

"Don't mind them, idiots. They've been partying all day, trying to get the guy getting married sicker than shit-making it so that he'll regret his decision to get married. Typical assholes."

Lindsay rested her hand over mine. "They're all not like that."

"Yes, they are," I hissed. "Three years ago, my ex never showed up at our wedding. Neither did his groomsmen. So those jerks behind us doing what they are doing is probably the same as what my ex's groomsmen did to him. They're all the fucking same..."

I hope you enjoyed the chapter!!🤞🤞