Chapter 17 Cecilia #2
“For how long?” I heard him asking.
“I don’t care if you forget her in there,” he said, my heart dropping with those words but before he could fully turn away from him, he looked back and added more.
“Actually, don’t let her stink up the box, it’s not hers.
Take her down to five when you’re done.” Ronan instructed Fletcher and relief washed over as I realized he wasn’t talking about me.
I could see a look of worry etched into Santos’ face though and I had to wonder what they were doing on the fifth floor.
“You sure brother?” Mateo questioned him but not in an undermining way.
“Yeah, something’s fucking off and I’m going to get to the bottom of it,” he slammed the other kennel’s metal door so loudly it made me flinch.
“Call Emory and see if she can come by to check out Cecilia,” I heard Mateo ordering someone but the pounding in my heart was dulling out all of the voices.
“Down here?” Santos asked in a hushed voice.
“Better take her back up,” someone answered and in less than a heartbeat, Ronan was scooping me up in his arms and carrying me out of the kennel as if I was completely weightless.
When we were back up in the penthouse, we made our way past Mateo and Santos’ doors that stood opposite of each other, into the door at the end of the hall.
He nudged it open with his shoe and the room opened up, it was just as large as Mateo’s room, but it wasn’t as bare.
He had a TV hanging on one side with a loveseat in front of it and a wet bar in another corner.
The bed was the biggest bed I’d seen in my life and completely unnecessary even if he was eighty feet tall now.
Red silk sheets covered it like a fine fitted gown and I ached to feel the cool of it as he sat me down onto the bed.
My hands were hot from the pain of my torn knuckles.
I looked down to find them bloody, I couldn't find it in me to care that I was dirtying up his fancy sheets, but when he sat next to me my heart took off at a million miles an hour and my breathing began to skip.
The crease in between his eyebrows let me know he was angry, but there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that for once it wasn’t directed at me.
Maybe at himself this time.
“Let me see,” he said, moving my hand off the wadded t-shirt.
The blood was still coming out of the puncture wounds at a slow steady pace, but it didn’t look or feel like I was going to die.
When his other hand met my waist as he examined my injuries, I let out a stuttered exhale and that line between his eyebrows finally dissolved.
We sat like that for a while, just frozen in time while he softly stroked his thumb against my waist and his stare burned into mine.
The rhythm of his breaths slowed like he was trying to lead mine in the same fashion and I allowed myself to match my breathing to his, heavy but stable and slow. There were so many things I wanted to say but nothing I could force out. In so many ways he reminded me of the love of my life.
He was so much like the boy I had given all of myself to, but if I looked too hard I could see we were complete strangers, unknown to each other in every possible way. The heat of his touch was toxic and all consuming, and I was completely paralyzed by the infernal blaze of his light caress.
For the first time since I stepped into this high-rise I wanted to open up and let all the walls tumble down, I wanted him to beg me for the truth again so that I could finally let it all out.
I wanted so badly to hope that he could be my knight in shining armor, that he could fight my demons for me and help me conquer them.
But for once he didn’t ask, and I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed.
This wasn’t a fairy tale, and I knew my uncle had the resources to bring the entire Black Crow Brotherhood to its knees with a snap of his fingers.
It wasn’t just unfair for me to want him to shoulder my problems, it was cowardly.
I wasn’t a damsel in distress, I was a queen whose crown was torn off her head and I refused to let anyone fight my battles for me.
My future held three possible scenarios: One where I escaped and hid for the rest of my life in hopes he would never find me.
The second where he would no doubt find me and finally kill me, with that smug look on his fat bastard face.
The third option was the one where I killed him, but it was currently the most unlikely option of the three for so many reasons, but number one being I had no army to go up against his with.
Trying to kill my uncle was a suicide mission and as hopeless as I felt, I would die by my own hand before giving that hijo de la chingada the satisfaction.
“This better be good, Zerkos, I was just about to go to sleep.” Her hot as hell Irish accent came tumbling into the room before I could see her.
A gorgeous redhead with a small suitcase walked in unannounced. Her waves long and full, her lipstick almost the same copper color as her hair. She was wearing white high heels paired with a matching lab coat and a dress skirt that screamed a kind of put together I couldn’t even dream of being.
I was suddenly overwhelmed with insecurity at how haggard I must have looked in comparison.
Leftover makeup from the party smeared down my face and my hair, a wild mess comparable to a rats nest. I couldn’t even remember the last time I brushed my teeth if I was being honest, but he didn’t look up at her or take his eyes off of me when he spoke to her.
“Just need to make sure she doesn’t need to go in for this,” he said, revealing the stab wounds and her eyebrow raised up at him.
“What the hell happened to her?” She asked him but I answered instead.
“She’s right here, he doesn’t speak for me.”
“Oh!” She squeaked, “I’m so sorry, um, the girls usually don’t speak English. I didn’t think…”
Ronan cleared his throat, interrupting her from finishing her thought. “Can you just take a look at her Emory?”
“The girls?” I asked, but I knew well enough to understand she was referring to the others in the kennel.
How many had there been? I was starting to wonder if this Emory might be my best source of information to get some answers on whatever the fuck Ronan was doing with those women.
Unfortunately, as soon as the words left my mouth, she looked to Ronan for approval, but he shook his head, denying my request.
She rushed over to my side as she began to examine my stomach, opening up her suitcase and pulling out a plethora of medical tools.
“You know, I like my paychecks, I do. I’m grateful for everything you and the Black Crows have done for me, and I like how well funded you all keep Saint Murphy’s Hospital…” she nervously tripped over her words as she fished in her bag for something, and Ronan interrupted her again.
“Spit it out, Emory.”
“I saw what you did to that Russian girl, Zerkos,” she said without looking at him, keeping her gaze down as she mumbled “I didn’t sign up for this.”
“He didn’t do it to her, I did,” I said, coming to his defense, though I wasn’t sure why.
Maybe I just didn’t want her thinking he was capable of hurting a defenseless girl like that. But maybe he was capable. She looked up at me, confusion written all over her face as she waited for an explanation that I wouldn’t give.
“I don’t think the cord to my ultrasound machine will reach the outlet, can you find me an extension cord?” she asked him, and he nodded. Before leaving the room, he threw me a glance, and for once I couldn’t tell what he was thinking at all.
“I’m not pregnant,” I said to her, a bit confused at why I needed an ultrasound.
“It’s to check for internal bleeding, I want to make sure your vital organs aren’t punctured,” she said in a professional tone, and I nodded in understanding.
I was dying to ask her a million questions, and maybe fill some of the pieces I was missing here.
How close was she to the Black Crows? What did she know was happening with the girls, and why did it seem like she was on board?
Did she know what my future held? Did she have a history with Ronan?
My thoughts derailed at a rapid pace and my heartbeat quickened at the thought of them together.
Cálmate. The nice lady is patching you up.
She was setting a few packaged tools down on a medical pad next to me, and I had to admit I was pretty impressed at how prepared she was at the drop of a hat.
“Do you make house calls often?” I began my interrogation.
“For the Black Crows, yes.”
“But not normally for the women?” I pried further, trying to see how far I could push her.
“They don’t usually need it, I’ve come by for wellness checks before though, or if someone gets sick,” she started dabbing at my injuries with a cold gauze and I groaned at the sting.
“Mateo already cleaned it out,” I said, trying to push her hands off of my stomach, but she laughed instead and just batted my hands away.
“I’m sure the tequila did well, but it’s my job to make sure you heal okay,” she said with a bit of warmth that showed me that she was actually a good doctor, the kind that was rare to come by.
She wasn’t someone doing it for the money, but doing it because she genuinely gave a shit about people.
“What do you know about the other women?” I decided to stop beating around the bush and see what I could find out.
She looked me right in the eye and said, “That they need to be here.” She barely answered before she asked me, “Do you want to tell me why you battered that poor girl?”
I turned my head to the side, unwilling to tell a stranger that pure jealousy took over all of my instincts and every piece of control I once had, disappeared in a red flash.
I couldn’t tell her that I didn’t regret it or that I would do it again and again, if I had the chance.
I definitely couldn’t confess that I wouldn’t even blink twice before turning her face into a pizza too if I saw her reaching for Ronan in the same way.
“You don’t trust me, that’s okay. I don’t expect you to, but maybe you could be better about not making so many enemies hmm?” She looked up at me from the wound she was tending to and I pressed my lips into a flat line.
I didn’t answer but she went on anyway.
“I’m just saying, I got called in twenty-four hours ago over a twenty-two-year-old female who had been beaten beyond recognition, and now I’m cleaning what looks like multiple fork stab holes in your stomach.
I’m smart enough to understand the timing and that the woman who stabbed you isn’t the same woman who you gave a beatdown to. ”
“I rub people the wrong way.” No sooner did the words come out of my mouth but Ronan was strutting back in with an extension cord chiming in his opinion.
“You can say that again.”
I glared at him but he didn’t even spare to look my way, handing her the extension cord so she could plug in a small device that could have been mistaken for hair clippers.
She connected it to her phone, the pressure from it against the still bleeding tiny holes making me wince.
Within a few minutes, she exhaled a sigh of relief and gave us the update, “All clear, no internal bleeding, all major organs are okay. It should completely clot within a couple of hours. I’d like to glue the punctures shut to facilitate the healing if you’re okay with it? ” she asked me.
“Just because it wasn’t serious doesn’t mean I want you going overboard.
” She looked at Ronan before she went on, “I want her resting for the next few days. Here are painkillers for it, she will be sore, and I’ll send over some antibiotics, twice a day.
With food Zerkos, she looks skinny as hell.
” She side-eyed him and he shrugged his shoulders at her.
“I can’t make her eat if she doesn’t want to.”
She shook her head and gave me a slightly empathizing look.
“I think too often we women are pitted against each other. Just remember that. It can be good to have someone in your corner every now and then, yeah?” She gave my hand a squeeze and then began to pack up all of her medical equipment into the bag.
“Walk me out? We need to talk,” her tone darkened with her words, and she didn’t bother throwing a single glance at Ronan.
I didn’t expect the doctor to have a spine after all, and I was impressed that she could channel that confidence to stand up to him.
He grunted, giving me an almost apologetic look before walking out of the room with her.
He was barely out of the room, and I was painstakingly maneuvering myself off of his bed as I disregarded the pain medication and hobbled towards the door, clutching my stomach.
There was nothing I hated more than not being in control of my mind, and that was exactly what any pain relieving drug did.
The tapping of my bare feet on the marble floor echoed out as I reached the threshold that opened out into the hallway, and I stared at the two doors on opposite sides of the wall.
I sighed heavily, annoyed at myself for having feelings I couldn’t begin to process or understand.
I was sure as shit not turning back to the door behind me, and the door to my left had too high of a chance for rejection that I certainly couldn’t handle right now.
I decided I wasn’t done letting myself drown in misery yet, so I turned to the door on my right, and I was somewhat surprised to see it slightly open, the music becoming louder with each step I took.