Chapter Fifteen
T he meds pumping through me make my head swim, my body feels too light and too heavy at the same time. It’s a struggle to even move my fingers, and as my brother and our friends filter into the room, all I can do is watch them with my eyes, vision fogged at the edges.
There’s a distinct ache in my shoulder, and my arm is in a sling, the bandages covering the bullet wound tight against my skin.
After the last of them comes in, I expect the door to close, but then Sloane steps through, her head down, my daughter bundled in her arms, but she looks pale, fragile even, and quiet, too fucking quiet.
“Sloane,” My voice comes out rough, covered in gravel. Her eyes snap up, landing right on mine. There’s a spatter of blood on the front of her shirt, more on her hands, and panic overwhelms me, enough that the machine hooked up to my body beeps frantically.
Did she get hurt!? Why the fuck is no one helping her!?
“I’m not hurt,” She tells me urgently, “It’s your blood, it’s not mine.”
Fuck, I’d said it out loud. These fucking drugs are messing with my head.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her directly, ignoring the several sets of eyes that volley between us.
I’ll rip them all a new one soon for fucking leaving her like this.
Did they not see that she needed fucking help!
? I wasn’t the only one there on that damn street.
I’m no stranger to bloodshed, but Sloane…
“Nothing,” She lies.
My eyes narrow on her, “Come here.”
Her brows draw low, “What?”
Who does Sloane have? I know she has Savannah, but that’s not enough. She needs more.
“Come here,” I demand, harsher this time.
Her ocean eyes narrow, “Just because you got shot doesn’t mean you get to be all controlling.” But she listens and edges her way toward me. “The only reason I’m even listening right now is because of Lily.”
She stops at the side of the bed, and I get a good look at her, scanning her face and taking in the redness in her eyes, the dark shadows forming beneath them.
“She’s fine,” Sloane gently moves the blankets away from Lily’s face, showing me my sleeping daughter, but I already knew my daughter was okay.
“Are you?” I ask.
With the way I’m ignoring the rest of them, we may as well be alone right now. Her eyes bounce between mine, “I’m fine.”
More fucking lies.
“You’re not.”
“Stop it,” She whispers.
“Sloane,” Savannah steps closer, touching her arm.
“Can you take her?” Sloane says quickly, handing Lily over, “I need to use the restroom.”
“Oh,” Sav agrees, taking my daughter, “Sure.”
Sloane doesn’t say anything further as she scurries from the room, the door closing with a soft click behind her.
A few seconds tick by. “You all fucked up.” I snap at my friends.
“What?” It’s Killian who responds.
“Did any of you check on her?!” My anger bubbles under the surface. Really, I should focus on the fucking shooting and find out who the hell wanted me dead, but seeing her like that… fuck.
“She’s fine, Dean,” Savannah says.
“You’re telling me that was fine!?” I growl. Killian steps beside her protectively.
“Don’t make me fucking hit you while you’re in a hospital bed.” He warns.
“Fucking do it,” I challenge, “You all fucked up. She was there, she isn’t like us!”
“Is there something going on between you two?” Savannah asks.
“What?” I snap, “No.”
“You sure, man?” Sebastian laughs, “’Cause it looks like you’re ready to rip us all apart for her.”
“I fucking am.”
He quirks a brow and smirks. Prick.
“She’s okay, Dean,” Savannah assures me. “Sloane has her own past, and this is how it is with her; just let her be.”
I feel my nostrils flare. No. I’ll not just let her be.
Inwardly, I hear a small voice laughing. Pot meet kettle.
Everyone left about twenty minutes ago, leaving me to the fog of meds that makes it hard to keep my eyes open.
I fucking hate being here, where the only sound is the beeping of the machine to my side, and the smell in the air makes my nose burn.
I’ll be able to go home tomorrow, provided the surgical site is clean and there are no complications that arise overnight, but that doesn’t mean I’m free.
Words like physiotherapy and rehab were thrown around earlier, but I was too fucked up on the drugs to really take it all in.
One thing that rang through all the noise was the possible long-term problems I may have.
If whoever fucking shot me has fucked me up, I’m going to rip them apart slowly.
If I had access to my damn computer, I would have found them by now, but I’m here while they’re out there, thinking they’ve gotten away with it.
I’m not stupid to believe it wasn’t an attempt on my life, and perhaps I would have brushed it off like the many times before, but I wasn’t the only one there.
Sloane could have been hit, and if the door to the car wasn’t shut and I hadn’t armored the vehicle, then Lily could have been hit too.
Snatching my cell off the bedside unit, I open the thread with my brother and start typing out a message to ask him to bring my computer here, but I’m interrupted by the door creaking open.
“Sloane?” I place the cell down, giving her my entire focus.
“Hi,” She says quietly, wheeling in the stroller where Lily is peacefully sleeping.
She’s changed since earlier and is now dressed in a tight pair of baby blue leggings, pair of sneakers, and an oversized sweater.
A ball cap covers her eyes, her hair acting like a curtain on either side of her face.
“It’s late,” I scan what I can see of her face, noting the paleness of her complexion. I have no doubt dark circles would be shadowing her eyes if I could actually see them. “What are you doing here?”
“I rushed out earlier,” She pretends to fix the blanket covering my daughter, “I didn’t get a chance to talk to you properly.”
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Fine.”
“Liar,” I fire.
She snaps her head around to me, “Excuse me?”
“There’s no one here now, so tell the truth.”
A weighted silence falls between us, the only sound the steady rhythm of my heart monitor.
“I’m terrified,” She finally admits.
“You should be,” I agree, “If you weren’t, I’d wonder how human you were.”
“You don’t seem scared,” She finally turns her focus to me, but still, I can’t see her pretty eyes.
“I’ve seen an awful lot of shit in my life that fear no longer gets to me. Sit down, Sloane.” I direct her to the chair right beside me.
With a heavy sigh, she lowers herself into it and then leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she rubs her face with her hands, dislodging the cap.
“What do you need?” I ask her.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” She replies.
“Not when you look like you’re a strong burst of wind away from falling apart.”
“How do you do that?” She sighs, adjusting her cap to cover her face again before she turns to me. Frustration has me moving to reach for the hat, my shoulder smarting and pulling with the movement, and when I knock the hat off, I collapse back onto the bed, letting out a harsh breath.
“Stop hiding,” I growl, “And because you think you hide it, and perhaps you do, but not from me.”
She goes to reach for the hat.
“Don’t,” I snap out the word, a harsh command.
“Can we just not,” She pauses, “I only came so you could see Lily and so I could tell you I’ll have her at my place until you’re out of here.”
“You’ll take her?”
“Of course I will,” She still doesn’t look at me.
“And once I’m out?”
“Then we go back to normal, right?”
“That depends, are you going to keep hiding from me?”
Finally, fucking finally she turns to me and lifts her ocean eyes, but they’re darker, more stormy seas than summer day, and I was right; shadows darken the space beneath them. She looks fucking haunted.
“We’re not friends, Dean,” She says before she stands up and picks up her hat. “You have plenty of them. We are boss and employee, please don’t try to make it something it isn’t. I will bring Lily to see you tomorrow.”
I don’t say another word as I watch her replace the hat on her head and then bend to retrieve something from beneath the stroller.
As she does, the back of her sweater rises, revealing a slither of skin where ink is etched into it.
There’s blue and black and grey and I can just make out what looks like a butterfly wing, but it isn’t the tattoo that catches my focus and keeps it.
It’s the puckered, angry flesh beside it.
Scarring. I can’t see where it starts or where it ends, and before I can open my mouth to ask what the fuck happened, she’s making her way out the door.