30. River
CHAPTER 30
RIVER
T he tang of antiseptic, sharp and chemical, coating my tongue with every breath, pulled me from the drugging hold of sleep. The steady beep of a heart monitor pierced through the haze, its rhythmic sound reassuring, if not a little annoying. The soft hum of distant voices, the squeak of shoes on polished floors, added to the strange symphony confirming I was once again in the hospital.
My eyelid fluttered, heavy and reluctant, against the bright glare of light coming from above me. Blurred shapes slowly came into focus—the ceiling tiles, a bag hanging from a pole beside me. A large body folded over the bed, head resting on my thigh, hand tightly gripping mine like it was the only way to keep me here.
The sound of the door opening drew my attention as a young nurse walked in. The small smile on her face brightened when she saw I was awake. “How are you feeling, River? I’m Jenna, and I’ll be looking after you today.”
“Okay,” I rasped and tapped my throat. My mouth was dry. I attempted to clear my throat, but it felt like I was trying to swallow sandpaper.
“Let me get you some water. It’ll help with the swelling and hopefully make you a bit more comfortable.” I tried to smile, but it hurt too much. Bane’s soft snores rumbled against my hand, where his face was buried.
“He hasn’t left your side since you were brought to the ward. He’s a keeper,” Jenna said.
My good eye rolled back in my head, agitation crawling under my skin at her words. I wanted to tell her to fuck off. That he was mine, and she could never have him, but I didn’t know if that was true anymore.
I hated not knowing whether he would want to be with me after this. There was a difference between knowing what someone had been through and accepting it. A difference between seeing the evidence first hand and having to live through the lingering effects of it. I’d put him through so much already, and I was terrified this would be one step too far. There would be no blame if he decided being with me was too much hassle, that I was too much for him. It would hurt. It’d fucking gut me, but I’d understand. Most days, I couldn’t stand myself, so I’d get it if that was what it came to.
There were a million questions dancing like fireflies in my head, but I locked them down. She wouldn’t know the answers, anyway. Only the man asleep next to me would.
“I’ll be back in a sec. I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake.” She swept out of the room as quietly as she’d arrived. I savored the peace; it wouldn’t be long until the circus arrived, and I’d had enough of people to last me a lifetime. The idea of living in a cabin in the woods was very appealing. But so was that eternal kind of sleep, the one you never woke from, where pain and suffering died as you did.
“Who was that?” Sleep coated Bane’s worried voice as he blinked blearily up at me. “Ugh.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, refusing to relinquish his hold on mine. He sat up slowly, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to get rid of the kinks from sleeping bent over the bed. “How had I forgotten how much it hurts to sleep like that? I’m not twenty anymore.” He scoffed and shook his head.
A breathless chuckle caught in my throat, and I winced. Someone was cranky this morning, but nothing beat waking up to him next to me. Sadly, his presence did little to curb the spiraling fear coiling inside me and all the unanswered what ifs hanging around my neck like a noose.
“Stop, River.” He pinned me with those hypnotic, mismatched eyes of his, and I felt like I was drowning in their depths. “I can see the cogs turning in your head so fast there’s steam coming out of your ears.” He wrapped his other hand around mine so it was cocooned by him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
My answering smile was as brittle as I felt. The desire to believe him was overwhelming, but… there was always a but. Everything had been conditional in my life. If I did this, I’d get that. If I performed for a john, allowed him to beat and use me however he wanted, I’d get a hot meal. Simple little things at the time that have had a ripple like effect on my life. Even Bane’s love had that “but” attached to it. I was his top priority, but first he had to close this case. I wasn’t even sure if he’d realized that he had caveats dotted all over our relationship.
“Angel?” His large shoulders rose as he took a deep inhale, then shuddered and lowered as he let it out. “I’m sorry.”
My good eye fell closed, and I turned away, not willing to hear what he had to say. I could already see the shattered pieces of my heart bleeding across the off-white floor.
“River, please listen to me.” He squeezed my hand to emphasize his words. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there like I’d promised to be.” His voice thickened as he kept talking. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to keep you safe and prevent you from getting hurt like I’d promised.” A single tear fell and slid hotly down my cheek. “I’m sorry I promised you were my priority but focused on my job and the case before you. I’m sorry I made promises and didn’t keep them. I’m sorry I let you down. I’m sorry I’ve failed you in every single way I promised you I wouldn’t.”
My teeth sunk into my bottom lip until the taste of copper exploded over my tongue. His heartfelt words felt like they were carving up my insides. I wanted to tell him it was alright, and that I understood. That I was a big enough person to see the bigger picture and the importance of the work he was doing. In a way, I could, but that was overshadowed by the crushing hurt his absence had caused, because if he had been at home, then would this have happened? Would I be here right now?
I was drowning in a suffocating agony that had me wanting to peel my skin off and sink into a vat of bleach to cleanse my ravaged soul. I had only just managed to start removing the touch of every man that came before Bane with the ever-growing physical part of our relationship. And I’d worked so hard with Joelle to work through my trauma and understand why I was the way I was. Why I said or didn’t say the things I did and why I reacted to certain situations the way I did.
But now, every small step forward that felt like I’d crawled through a riptide to achieve was washed away, obliterated like it had never happened. I was once again a hollow shell, a skin-covered skeleton with nothing inside except an emptiness that suffocated every fleck of light, the outsider looking in on a life that could have been mine, and I didn’t know how to process any of it. It was like my life had been ripped from my hands in the blink of an eye, and I’d woken up in an alternate reality where everything was the same, but different.
I was altered, and I didn’t know if I could find my way back.
Hot, wet drops hit my hand. The feel of them on my cold skin was an echo of a memory I couldn’t grasp. Glancing over at Bane and seeing the pain etched deeply into his face was a vise around my heart.
“Here you go, River,” Jenna said and poured me a cool glass of water before setting the jug on the cabinet by the bed. “I even got you a straw to make it easier for you.” She smiled sweetly as she handed it to me, then busied herself fiddling with the bags that hung on the IV pole.
The effort required to separate my hand from Bane’s had been immense, but I needed some space to think and feel, to shore up my walls. Even though he’d said all the right things, I’d believed his perfect lies before, and I didn’t want to be the fool that let history repeat itself.
“How’s the pain, River?” Jenna glanced at me as she changed one of the hanging bags, her gaze intent and understanding. “Do you have a phone you can use if your throat is too sore to talk?”
Heat pricked the back of my eyes, but before I could answer, Bane spoke up and came to my rescue.
“I do, or I can grab him a pad and pen.” He turns to me. “Whatever you’d prefer, angel.” God, my heart couldn’t take his sweetness, not when he blinked those wide puppy-like eyes at me. I held my hand out for his phone, and with a blinding smile, he set it in my hand.
It’s about a 7. My back is throbbing like a bitch and feels like it’s stuck to the sheet, and my throat feels like it’s closed up.
What I didn’t tell her was that my head was pounding so badly the vision in my one good eye kept going black, and there was a high likelihood I was about to vomit everywhere. Sweat slicked my skin, and droplets dripped down the back of my neck.
“I’m not surprised. You’ve been through a lot. Dr. Miller is working his way up the ward. You should be next. I’ve just changed over your fluids and IV antibiotics. You’re not due any more pain meds for a couple of hours, but I’ll have a quick word with him and see if I can give you a top up after he’s been to see you. Then you can get some rest.” She turned to Bane. “You should go home, have something to eat, take a shower, maybe get some sleep. The doctor is going to want to have a sensitive conversation with River, so it might be best to give him some privacy.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Bane bit out. He pushed the chair back and rose to his full intimidating height. “I’ll be here right by River’s side until he tells me he doesn’t want me anymore,” he leaned over the bed and eyed the tag on her uniform, “Jenna. If it’s all the same with you.”
Suitably chastised, Jenna shut her mouth with a snap, turned on her heel, and left the room. My head tipped back so I could look up at Bane, fighting the smile that wanted to lift my lips. I loved this possessive side of him, long may it continue.
That wasn’t very nice.
Looking down at the screen, Bane snorted. “She was trying to get rid of me.” He shook his head and squeezed my hand, brushing his thumb over my knuckles. “I’m not leaving you, not again. Unless you order me away.” I sucked in a sharp breath and welcomed the burning pain. “I want to be here to support you, no matter what the doctor wants to talk to you about. It’s standard procedure for people who have gone through what you have.”
How do you know? How does that make you feel?
“What do you mean, angel?” He sighed and settled back into the chair after placing a reverent kiss on my forehead.
To know that I was raped and beaten. Used and…
I guess left for dead.
But clearly those idiots didn’t do that part right, because I’m here. Right?
Bane’s eyes grew glassy. There was a hollowness in the shadows that haunted them. I wouldn’t sugarcoat reality for him. If we were going to get through this, we had to face the truth in all its brutal rawness. I couldn’t remember everything. I was certain they’d given me some type of drug that, coupled with the blows to the head I’d sustained, made my memory patchy. There were signs they’d violated me, like the dried cum between my cheeks, but most of it was a blur.
I’ll consent to anything if it means they finally get what’s coming to them.
“They? You know who it was?” Bane said with a voraciousness that shocked me. He was normally so sweet and tender, a trait that seemed at odds with his bulging muscles and stature. I knew I was stereotyping him, but god, the things this man did to me.
Yes. They taunted me about how good it would be to fuck me as I took my last breath and all the things they’d do to the body I left behind.
“You never told me.” Hurt laced every word as Bane pulled his hand away from mine, folding his arms tightly over his chest. He leaned back in the chair, his expression sharp with accusation. “I thought you told me everything.”
Tears welled in my good eye, and I tucked my chin against my chest, the tears spilling as I cried. Each sob felt like it was splitting me open, the pain radiating through my battered body, but not as much as the pain in my heart. I’d tried to protect, but in doing so, ended up hurting him more. By hiding the truth, I had betrayed the trust he’d so willingly offered me. Couldn’t he see? I was a cancer, slowly killing him.
Summoning every last scrap of strength, I met Bane’s beautifully broken eyes. His gaze was heavy with layers of pain and suffering—pain I had caused. “I...I’m sorry,” I rasped. “I...I…w-was...tr...try...in...t-t…” My hand clutched my throat, a futile attempt to steady the broken pieces. “To...pr...pro...tect...y-you.”
“Why, Riv? Why?” His voice cracked with anguish. “All I’ve ever wanted is to be here for you. To help you find yourself and heal. To fight back the monsters that haunt your dreams. To show you how loved you are.”
He sniffed hard, trying to keep his composure, but I couldn’t hold on any longer. My eyes fluttered shut as the room began spinning, tilting wildly, and a flashing white light drowned my vision. Waves of heat coursed through me, and my stomach churned violently, the nausea rising until it reached my throat. I retched, blindly reaching out for Bane, my last anchor.
“Shit! Riv, hang on.” His chair scraped loudly across the floor as he sprang to his feet. My hand clamped uselessly over my mouth, trying to stop the inevitable. Vomit trickled through my fingers as Bane moved quickly. “Here.” The rough texture of cardboard brushed under my chin just in time for another wave to erupt from my mouth.
Of course, it had to be right then that Dr. Miller walked into the room. He didn’t miss a beat, though. He smoothly replaced whatever Bane had hastily shoved under my chin and administered anti-sickness medication. The violent tremors eased, and the searing light in my head dimmed as the doctor added a stronger painkiller to my rotation.
I looked at Bane, searching his reaction for the expected horror and disgust. Instead, all I found was unwavering support and understanding. He didn’t flinch or falter. He questioned Dr. Miller at every step, advocating for me as I struggled to trust the medications and battled the paranoid fear that someone was trying to harm or poison me.
Dr. Miller confirmed I had needed multiple stitches to close the deep lacerations across my back and the tears to my rectum. He spoke about my treatment plan and how long they wanted to keep me under observation because of the nasty concussion I’d also received. Having more than one in such a short period of time meant I was more at risk of things going wrong, so they were paying close attention and I needed to answer honestly when questioned about my symptoms.
Once everything had calmed down and the storm in the room quieted, Dr. Miller perched on the edge of my bed. He explained the remaining exams they needed to perform and gently brought up the rape kit. If I consented, he said, they could share the results with the police to help ensure my attackers’ conviction.
With Bane holding my hand, I lied as still as possible while swabs and samples were taken. When I asked, Dr. Miller confirmed that the stitches were dissolvable and would be gone within a couple of weeks. I’d suffered similar injuries before, but I’d never been treated with this kind of care.
Through it all, Bane never wavered. He stood beside me, unflinching in the face of cold, brutal facts. He didn’t look at me with disgust or pity. Instead, he held me with his eyes full of love and empathy, anchoring me in a storm I might not have survived without him. By the time they left us to our own devices, the painkillers were finally starting to dull the pain, making me drowsy.
My good eye felt heavy and laden with sleep. Bane brushed my unruly hair off my forehead and brushed kisses to every part of my face he could reach. The semblance of a smile flickered at the corner of my lips. His soft, gentle touches were melting my insides, and the residual anger and resentment I’d been harbouring toward him lessened.
“Angel?” he whispered as my eye fluttered closed. The tension in my body eased as unconsciousness pulled me under. His hand wrapped around mine, his lips brushing over my knuckles as his hot breath ghosted over my skin. “You never told me who hurt you?”
His deep, gravelly voice echoed around my head. I couldn’t be sure if he was really talking to me, or if I was dreaming. “The Mitchell brothers,” I mumbled as I lost the fight to the drugs coursing through my system.