Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“These stitches will need to be removed in two weeks,” Dr. Spenser said, removing his gloves. “The bandages need to stay dry and be changed in forty-eight hours. After that she can shower. Someone will need to clean the wounds.”
Me.
I’d be the one cleaning Stella’s wounds.
The doctor continued to drone about wound care, not that I needed the instructions—I’d had enough stitches, staples, and gashes glued shut to know the protocol—which was good seeing as the roaring in my ears had drown out what was being said.
I couldn’t look away from Stella’s unconscious face. I had her in profile, eyes closed, jaw slack. I could almost pretend she was sleeping.
My gaze slid over her back—welts shiny with ointment, shallow gashes closed with steri-strips, the deeper ones stitched closed covered in dressings.
The white towels beneath her stained with blood—her blood. She moaned and jerked while Spenser had carefully cleaned her back.
“Should we be concerned she hasn’t regained consciousness?” I asked.
“The mind is a powerful tool,” the doctor started.
“I can give you the medical explanation of vasovagal syncope and the effects on the nervous system resulting in reduced blood flow to the brain.” The doctor paused and glanced down at Stella’s back.
“But bottom line, the pain was so extreme, as a protective measure her brain turned off. That and the morphine I gave her.” He pointed to a bottle on the table next to the bed. “I’m leaving her Tramadol.”
I had my doubts Stella would take a narcotic—luckily, my house was already stocked with every OTC pain med on the market.
“I’ll walk you up,” Zane told the doctor.
“Whoever did this to her…” Dr. Spenser trailed off with a shake of his head.
“Will be dealt with,” Zane finished.
I waited for Zane and the doctor to leave the room before I sat on the edge of the mattress, careful not to jostle Stella. The need to touch her, to reassure myself she was alive, battered my normal detachment.
Disconnected was easier. Safer. I allowed the men I worked with as close as I dared, keeping them far enough away they knew not to pry too deeply.
I swept my knuckles over her cheek, taking in her soft skin. Something I hadn’t done six months ago when I had her in my bed.
“Cash?” Stella croaked.
“Right here, baby girl.”
“Cara?” she asked without opening her eyes.
“She’s safe.”
“Knew you’d come,” she slurred sweetly.
I tried not to process that—not the sweet trust I heard, not the clear concern she had for Cara, and definitely not the scratchy, croaky voice which served as a reminder she’d been choked, beaten, passed out, and now was drugged to ease the pain.
Nope, I wasn’t going to think about why the first two stirred something deep inside me. Instead, I forced myself to focus on the last part.
Anger was easier. Guilt my constant companion. Mix those two together and it made the sum of my existence.
I straightened and stared at the mess of her back, using the welts and lacerations to fuel my anger.
Before I could successfully shut down the alarming emotions that only awakened when Stella was around, the door opened. Zane came back in, holding a black t-shirt, and tossed it at me.
“Whose is this?” I stupidly asked.
Now was not the time for some latent caveman jealousy to rear its ugly head. Not when Stella was injured and naked from the waist up. But I’d be damned if she was wearing one of my teammates’ shirts.
“It’s new,” Zane told me with a knowing smile. “Ivy ordered them.”
I shook out the shirt and saw the Z Corps logo on the back.
“For what?”
“Fuck if I know,” he returned. “I told her none of the guys would wear them and they’d end up in the trash. But that was the only one left.”
The women must’ve confiscated them.
“How are you playing this with Cara?” he went on. “Nebraska and Easton said she can go home with them.”
That might’ve been the best course of action, but it wasn’t what was going to happen.
“They’re both coming to my house.”
Zane’s eyebrow winged up. This wasn’t surprising.
He knew I never allowed women into my home, and it was rare for my teammates to come over.
Hell, in the last six months my sister had only been in my house once—Penny might be female, but she didn’t count as a woman and besides, she’d only been there for ten minutes before we’d left for dinner.
“How are you going to explain Lore’s injuries?”
Fuck.
I hadn’t thought of that.
“Car accident?”
Zane looked at me like I had a screw loose.
No, he looked at me like a father—one who knew my excuse would likely lead to more questions which would turn into more lies.
Lying to kids is bad…isn’t it?
“What if I tell Cara Stella is sick?” As soon as the question left my mouth, Zane frowned. “Like with the flu,” I clarified.
“It’s not going to matter what you tell her, she’s going to have questions. Uncomfortable questions like why Lore left her in that room and why she has…bruises around her neck.”
A hoodie could cover the bruising and the damage to her back.
“For what it’s worth, I think you taking both of them back to the house is the right call. Especially with Cara. She’s finishing up the pizza Leo and Olivia brought in, but she’s asking about you.”
I didn’t have time to savor the burn that Cara asking about me created and why it felt so good.
“I’ll take Stella with me. Do you mind bringing Cara to my place?”
“You know I don’t.”
That seared through me, creating a different kind of burn. I’d waited my whole life for a family. I’d found it when I found my brothers, but there had still been something missing until I met Zane. Not a father figure, but a mentor, a leader, someone to guide and advise when I needed direction.
But there was still a hole, a hollowness I ignored. I glanced back down at Stella and wondered if she was the key—her and Cara.
“Is Lolo really okay?” Cara asked.
I looked over at her little body tucked into the corner of my couch with a bag of microwave popcorn balanced between her bent knees and chest and not for the first time I wondered what the hell I was doing.
Maybe I should’ve let Nebraska take her home.
I was sure it was past her bedtime and I had no idea if popcorn was okay as a late-night snack.
Then there was me allowing her to check on a sleeping Stella in my bed.
Of course I’d lifted the sheet up to cover her neck, and Cara didn’t know her Lolo was actually passed out from the morphine she’d been given, but still…
“Would you like to check on her again?” I asked.
“No. When I have an icky tummy, I don’t want to be bothered.”
Right.
The flu.
That was the excuse I’d given as to why Cara couldn’t climb into bed with Stella and snuggle. I’d gotten lucky and she hadn’t asked where Stella had gone and why. I knew those questions would come, I just hoped Stella was awake when they did.
Cara’s gaze went back to the TV. “I wish I had a dragon.”
I glanced back at the screen just in time to see a cartoon baby dragon puke up a half-eaten fish on a boy’s lap.
Great, I was probably going to give Cara nightmares when the dragon ate the boy.
“That’s gross,” Cara cringed.
On the screen the little boy took a bite out of the fish the dragon had puked onto his lap.
What the fuck kind of cartoon was this?
“Hiccup should know better not to eat something that was in a dragon’s mouth,” Cara prattled on as the dragon tried to mimic the boy’s smile. “I totally wish I had a baby dragon. Toothless is the best.”
Before I could comment, a loud groan came from my bedroom. I was off the couch and in my room in time to see Stella thrashing on the mattress.
I made it to the side of the bed, rolled her off her back, and brushed her hair off her face.
“Hurts,” she moaned.
“Does she have to poop?” Cara asked from the doorway. Which was as far as I’d allowed her into the room the first time she’d looked in on Stella, claiming I didn’t want her to catch Stella’s flu. “When my tummy hurts, Mommy used to take me to the potty.”
Her second comment erased her comically innocent question.
“Cash,” Stella breathed. “Cara?”
I leaned closer so only she could hear when I shared, “It’s all good, Stella.
Cara’s here and safe. So are you.” Her eyelids cracked open and for the first time since I’d found her in the basement of her brother’s house I saw the blue of her eyes.
They were bloodshot but the gratitude I felt made it easier to ignore the haze of pain that coated her gaze.
“I told her you had the flu. That’s why she can’t come in here. ”
“Is Lolo okay, Cashy?”
Stella’s eyes widened and her head jerked back in surprise.
“Yeah, sweetheart.”
“Does she have to poop?”
I felt my lips twitch. “I don’t think so.”
“Puke?”
Stella shook her head, which was really nothing more than sliding her cheek against the pillow, but she did it with a half-smile playing at her lips.
“No, Care Bear, I’m not gonna puke.”
“You’re awake!” Cara shouted. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah, sweetheart,” I told her and shifted to the side so Cara could see Stella.
Cara walked into the room but stood far enough away not to catch the fictitious stomach bug.
“Hey,” Stella whispered. “You okay?”
“Yeah, Cashy came and got me just like you said he would.”
Stella’s gaze slowly transferred to me, but she looked back at Cara when she went on.
“I played with Gia and Frankie and ate pizza. And the Snake used his magic on me so I wouldn’t be scared when Cashy left me to go get you.
Gia asked her mommy if I could go over to her house and play.
She said yes, but I had to ask you first. So, can I? ”
I watched Stella slowly blink. I wasn’t sure if it was in confusion or pain or just a curious response to Cara seemingly being cool with this afternoon’s adventure.
“Who’s Gia?” Stella asked.
“Leo and Olivia’s daughter,” I told her.
“I’ll think about it, Care Bear.”
“Is that a real think about it or the pretend kind?”
Stella gave Cara a weak smile. “It’s a real, I’ll think about it.”
As much as I knew Cara needed to see Stella was okay, it was time for Stella to get a pain pill in her and rest.
“Sweetheart, do me a favor and go get me a bottle of water out of the fridge.”
“Sure,” Cara chirped and bounced out of the room.
I watched her go, wondering if I’d ever been a carefree seven-year-old, even though it was a fool’s thought because I knew better. I’d never been a carefree anything—not a single day in my miserable childhood did I feel safe enough to bound from a room with a skip in my step.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Sore all over.” Her admission surprised me. I figured I’d have to pull the truth out of her. “I don’t remember…” She trailed off, using her limited line of sight to take in the room. “Is this…are we…how’d…” She didn’t finish her thought.
I’d never seen or heard Stella be anything but strong and capable. Seeing and hearing her unsure and confused was like acid in my veins. It was only the underlying trust—not only that I’d take care of Cara but also her, that made it possible to endure the poison.
“For now, all you need to know is, you and Cara are safe,” I told her. Her eyes narrowed, and I was happy to see some of her normal fire sparking to life. “If you’re still awake after I get Cara to bed, I’ll tell you everything. But saying that, you need a pain pill. So, we’ll talk in the morning.”
“Got it!” Cara announced as she skipped back into my room. “If I hold my breath, so I don’t breathe in icky tummy germs, can I give Lolo a kiss?”
Jesus.
I couldn’t decide if it was Cara’s question or the warmth that suffused Stella’s face that made the left side of my chest get tight.
My contemplation was cut short when Stella answered, “How about if I hold my breath so I don’t breathe yucky germs on you when you come give me a kiss?”
Cara bopped over, handed me the bottle of water, leaned down, and kissed Stella’s cheek.
When Cara straightened, Stella’s face was tender and full of love.
And my first thought after witnessing that beauty was how badly I wanted that look aimed at me.