Chapter Twenty-Seven
“SAINT, I’M FINE,” Beth said for the thousandth time.
“Shh, hold up. Don’t move,” Saint said as he patted her thigh while staring at the monitor above her hospital bed.
Beth rolled her eyes. Since Demo kicked her in the torso and she’d complained of difficulty breathing, the ER doctor ordered her to be placed on supplemental oxygen and a telemetry monitor.
It kept constant tabs on her heart function and oxygen saturation, plus checked her blood pressure every thirty minutes, which it was currently doing.
Saint couldn’t tear his attention away from that damn monitor. Every time he heard the whir of the filling blood pressure cuff, he shushed her and demanded she lie still for an accurate reading. He focused on that screen as though it were the only thing keeping her alive.
“One ten over seventy. Oxygen is ninety-eight percent,” he said with a nod. “Good.”
God, she loved this man, even if she wanted to wrap the EKG leads around his neck and choke him.
“Saint.”
“Huh?” He made the noise without glancing away from the screen.
“Saint, look at me.”
He seemed reluctant to turn away from the screen but did as she asked. Worry etched lines into his forehead. Beth reached out and smoothed a finger over the grooves before cupping his cheek.
“Really look at me. I’m okay. They x-rayed my face and ribs.
Nothing is broken. You know that. I don’t have any internal bleeding.
I spat blood earlier because I have a pulmonary contusion and lots of deep bruising.
And yes, it hurts like a son of a bitch, but it’s not serious.
The only reason they haven’t discharged me yet is that they want to make sure I don’t have any more trouble breathing because of the lung contusion.
But as you said, my oxygen level looks great. ”
The intensity in his gaze would have made her uncomfortable if he were any other man.
It felt as though he were trying to crack her open and see straight into her soul.
To see every part of her, even those she’d never let anyone else have.
But she wanted it with him. She wanted to grow so close to him that it felt like they were one.
“I’m okay,” she whispered, sweeping a thumb across his lower lip. “You can relax.”
He leaned in, resting their foreheads together. “Baby…” The agony in his voice slayed her.
“I know,” she whispered.
He shook his head against her. “You can’t. You can’t possibly know.”
She stroked his hair, sifting her fingers through the soft strands. “So tell me.”
He pulled back so they could see each other better. Then he took her hand, his big one swallowing hers like he was afraid she might vanish if he let go. He swallowed hard, jaw working. His eyes were red-rimmed, bloodshot, not from tears, but from hours of refusing to let them fall.
“When Screw called and told me you were missing…” His breath hitched, sharp and distressed.
“It felt like someone took a crowbar to my chest and kept prying until they cracked it wide open. I couldn’t fucking breathe.
The world tilted the wrong way, and I was suddenly facing the possibility of standing in it without you. ”
His grip intensified. Protective. Desperate.
Beth’s throat closed completely. Her eyes burned. She couldn’t have spoken if her life depended on it, so she just held on tighter, letting him know she was here, she was listening, and she wasn’t going anywhere.
“I was terrified,” he admitted. The word dragged out of him as though it hurt to say. “Not scared. Not worried. Fucking terrified. I’ve only been that terrified one other time in my life. The night Makenna and I took our siblings and ran from the cult.”
Oh God.
“I know what kind of monsters lurk out there, and the thought of one of them putting a hand on you…” His voice broke. He looked away, jaw clenching so hard she could see the muscle jump. When he looked back, his eyes were wet. “It broke something in me, Beth. Something I didn’t know could break.”
He leaned in, dropping his forehead to her shoulder. She rubbed his back and kissed his temple, the only thing she could think to soothe him.
“I was so fucking, angry, Beth. I’ve been angry before, but this, this was different. This was clean, pure, and murderous. There wasn’t anything in me except the need to find you. To get to you. To end anyone who stood between you and me.”
His voice dropped to a whisper, thick with promise and pain.
“I didn’t care about the consequences. I didn’t care about blood. I didn’t care if I came back. The only thing that mattered was you, is you. I was ready to tear the world apart piece by piece if that’s what it took.”
He lifted his head. His eyes were wet now, and he didn’t try to hide it.
“My brothers kept me from spiraling out of control. They brought me back to earth and helped me get to you. And when I saw you…” His voice cracked before he pressed his lips together, fighting for control.
“Bruised, hurt, tied to that fucking chair, and still so fucking brave.” A sound came out of him, not quite a laugh, not quite a sob.
“Relief hit me so hard my knees almost gave out.” His thumb brushed her skin in a reverent sweep.
“There is nothing… nothing… I wouldn’t do to keep you safe.
No line I wouldn’t cross. No darkness I wouldn’t run into.
You are it for me, Beth. You’re my anchor, my reason, and losing you…
” His voice cracked. His face crumpled for just a second before he caught it, and that single moment of almost-breaking undid her completely.
“I’m here,” she said quickly, cupping his face, pulling him close. “I’m here, I’m alive, and I’m going to walk out of here hand in hand with you. And I’m going to go home with you. And get into bed with you.”
He nodded. “Christ, Beth, I saw a version of myself I always suspected existed but never had to meet. I now know what I’m capable of, and there is no limit when it comes to you.”
“Does it give you any second thoughts? About me? Or us?”
“Fuck no.” He kissed her, hard. “Never. You hear me? Not for a fraction of a second. I fucking love you, and there isn’t anything that can change that.”
Beth smiled. Despite her discomfort, it felt like she was glowing from the inside out. “Just checking.”
Saint grunted a laugh. The feral intensity faded from his expression as he narrowed his eyes. “Don’t ask me that shit again,” he said with a playful growl as he lifted their joined hands to his lips and nipped her knuckles.
“Kiss me,” she said, leaning in. “Give me something to hold me over until we get home.”
“I like to hear you call my place home.”
Just as she grinned, he leaned in and kissed the smile off her lips. She sighed a soft, happy sound, which he took advantage of, sliding his tongue into her mouth. A nurse would probably come in before she knew it, but Beth still took the opportunity to deepen the kiss.
She could spend the rest of her life kissing him and never want for anything.
A deep throat cleared from the doorway.
Beth jerked back, face heating. Saint didn’t release her hand as they both turned to see which doctor had come by to assess her.
But it wasn’t a doctor who stood, watching them.
It was Copper, hand in hand with Shell.
Beth tensed. Saint must have felt it, and his eyes went straight to that stupid monitor. To keep him from having a damn heart attack, she breathed as deeply as her sore chest allowed to calm her nerves, most of which were for him.
The last person Saint would want to see after slicing his heart open and bleeding all over Beth’s hospital bed was the man who hated him and banished him from their family.
He shifted a respectful distance from Beth, but didn’t release her hand. She wouldn’t have let him if he tried.
How long had her parents been eavesdropping? Had they overheard Saint bare his entire soul to her?
Shell had tears streaming down her cheeks, one hand pressed to her heart like she was trying to hold it together. Copper’s expression was unreadable, but his eyes were suspiciously bright, and he kept swallowing like he had something stuck in his throat.
Yeah. They’d heard everything.
“Hey,” Beth said as she rested against the raised bed.
“How are you, honey?” Shell tugged Copper into the room where they stood at the foot of the bed.
“I’m doing all right. Sore, but all things considered, it’s not bad.”
“They gave you pain medicine?” Shell asked.
Beside her, Saint snorted, making her chuckle. “All I took was Motrin. I didn’t want anything stronger.”
“Well, that’s stupid,” Copper finally spoke. “Why didn’t you take something stronger?”
“Thank you,” Saint grumbled, glaring at her. “That’s what I said.”
Oh my God. Beth met her mother’s amused gaze.
How had she not realized these men were cut from the exact same damn cloth?
Shell pressed her lips together, but her eyes sparkled with mirth.
Yeah, laugh it up, Mom.
“Because, as I’ve told Saint countless times, the pain is not that bad. Plus, I don’t want to be all loopy or tired. So you all can stop fussing like a bunch of mother hens.”
A heavy blanket of silence fell over the room.
Beth shifted, gritting her teeth so she didn’t wince.
They’d be all over her if she let slip how much moving hurt.
God, this was worse than awkward. The last time they’d all been together, Copper screamed, shouted, and threw Saint out of the clubhouse.
Where did they go from here? Would they leave now that they saw she wasn’t badly hurt?
Copper sighed. He rubbed his beard while clearing his throat.
When she was a kid, she used to put braids in his beard with sparkly clips.
He’d hated every second of it but never refused when she wanted to ‘play beauty salon.’ He’d smile and praise her as she yanked his beard, probably pulling out a handful of hair.
Without a doubt, Copper was the best damn father around.
It truly hurt to cause him so much distress.