57. Chloe
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
CHLOE
NOW
Acramp slices through my stomach, and I throw a hand out to catch myself on the counter before my legs can buckle beneath me.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I breathe through another agonizing cramp that almost takes me to my knees, but somehow I manage to stay standing.
What’s the date?
I’ve spent years meticulously tracking every single day of my cycle because I like to know what symptoms to expect on any given day, but I know for sure it hasn’t been four weeks since I was locked up in the cellar.
Strong arms wrap around me from behind, carefully lifting me from my feet and carrying me to the couch without a word. It’s not until they lay me down that I realize it’s Ronan. Worry etches into his brow as he brushes his thumb over my cheek.
“It’s too soon for your period,” he says softly. “Does your IUD fuck with your cycle like the implant did?”
I shake my head, tears gathering at the corners of my eyes.
How does he remember that? When I was first diagnosed with endometriosis at sixteen, the OB-GYN suggested I try the implant to settle some of the symptoms, but all it did was cause more chaos in my body.
Two weeklong periods, followed by none for months, and then two in the same cycle.
There was no tracking it, and after the first year I had it removed, choosing to take the pill instead.
Ronan glances at the kitchen where Damon is doing the dishes, something that surprised all of us, but none of us commented on in fear he might stop. “I saw a hot water bottle in the bottom of the pantry. I’ll get that for you, okay?”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
Before he gets the chance to stand, Ryker appears with his brow dipped low in concern. I have no idea where he came from, because the last I checked, he was outside with Kingston, and there was no gust of cold air when the door opened, but I’m distracted by another cramp tearing through my abdomen.
“Siren?”
“I’m okay,” I assure him, earning me a hard stare from Ronan.
“She’s not okay. She’s either ovulating or having a flare. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the latter given how much stress she’s been under the last month.”
Ryker’s eyes widen as he drops to his knees beside my head, brushing tattooed fingers through my hair.
“You never told me why you disappeared for a few days every month. Is this it?” He pulls his phone out before I can reply, his eyes darting across the screen.
“No, those days are always four weeks apart, so it has to be something else.”
Ronan and I stare at him in surprise, but I can’t help but laugh at the fact the big, burly serial killer has been tracking my periods without even realizing it.
He turns to look at Ronan, his brow dipped in concern. “Will you teach me how to take care of her?”
“I’ll go over everything with you, but first I want to find her some pain relief and a hot water bottle to make her more comfortable.”
Ryker jumps to his feet without another word, moving through the kitchen with a determination that’s as amusing as it is terrifying.
Ronan drops a soft kiss to my forehead before trailing after him.
Watching them move around the kitchen together makes my heart clench in a way it hasn’t since I was eighteen.
It’s far too soon to feel something so deep for Ryker, but if I’m honest with myself, maybe that doesn’t matter. He’s constantly proven to me that he’s dedicated to keeping me safe, constantly showing me that I’m his priority, and it doesn’t hurt that he has no problem sharing my affections.
“A flare can look different depending on what brought it on. In this case it’s probably stress, but it could also be all the sex she’s been having,” Ronan explains, and I can’t help but giggle when the tips of Damon’s ears turn pink at the topic.
“It could be that,” Ryker agrees. “Before that night in the parking lot, she hadn’t been with anyone since you.”
Ronan’s eyes flick up to meet mine, and I give him a sad smile.
“Either way, we’ll just have to take Chloe’s symptoms as they come. Pain relief and a hot water bottle or something similar will always help make her more comfortable. But sometimes she’ll be extra tired, or she’ll be off food for a couple of days. It just depends.”
Ryker nods, writing something in his phone before riffling through the cupboard for pain pills. “Do you think delivers out here? I’ve seen electric heating pads advertised, and at least they stay warm.”
“We are not having a stranger come to the cabin to deliver anything,” Damon rumbles, proving he’s been listening to every word they’ve said since they stepped into the kitchen.
“And they don’t work for her anyway. They don’t get hot enough for them to make any difference to her pain,” Ronan adds.
Ryker glares at Damon. “You will not tell me what I can and cannot do when it comes to taking care of my girl. If she needed a heating pad, I’d be getting her one in whichever way gets it to her the quickest.”
“Getting her killed is one way to take care of her pain, I guess,” Damon quips as he strides out of the kitchen, but instead of heading into his bedroom the way he has every other time they’ve argued, he drops down into the armchair Kingston was in last night, staring directly at me.
“I’m starting to think you want to end up on the wrong side of his knife collection, bro,” Ronan sighs as he pours boiling water into the hot water bottle and swipes a towel from the bottom drawer to wrap it in.
Ryker brings two painkillers and a bottle of water to the couch, proceeding to slip them between my lips and feeding me slow sips of water.
By the time I’ve swallowed the pills, Ronan carefully places the hot water bottle over my lower abdomen, his hand pressing against it softly to hold it in place.
After so many years of taking care of everyone else and having no one to return to favor, tears gather at the way these two brutal men fawn over me like I’m the most precious thing in their world.
And I’m starting to believe that I am.
But that’s the thing about hope. Sometimes it’s the thing that destroys you.