Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
THREE DAYS LATER
ROSALIA
I think I prefer laying down to sitting up. Dr. Walsh is not only my doctor, but personal torturer as well. I can wear lightweight clothing that won’t stick to my skin now, and he wants me to spend a few minutes at a time sitting up.
This means using the Log Roll technique to get out of bed and then using my arms to sit up. The idea is that I don't strain my back at all so I won’t pull anything.
It sucks. Breathing hard, my fingers dig into the soft material of my sleep shorts as I sit up straight. My feet press into the ground as I drop my head back, and my heart pounds in my chest as I congratulate myself on a small win.
“I don’t like this,” I mutter, feeling lightheaded. The monitor I’m still connected to complains, and I decide my next milestone will be to no longer need that fucking thing. The entire beeping thing overstimulates me.
“Ten minutes,” Dario says, his hands covering mine as he gets on the ground in front of me. “Verona set a timer, that’s all you need to sit up for, okay?”
“Yeah.” My chest still heaves as I get used to this, but it can still suck monkey nuggets.
“You’re going to have your appointment with the therapist a half hour after this. Please feel free to curse me out with Michael,” Dr. Walsh says. “Nice and easy, keep breathing. Your body is going to freak out, but it’s a liar. This is child’s play compared to what your father put you through.”
“Not helping,” I mumble.
“I didn’t know she was going to see a male therapist,” Verona says, sitting on the ground as she checks the timer. “You have six more minutes, baby. You’re doing great.”
“He came highly recommended. If you hate him, Rosalia, you can fire him,” Dr. Walsh shrugs.
“You’re not going to make me tough it out?” I ask, trying to tease him.
“Absolutely not. Go with your gut. Just because he’s considered excellent in his field, doesn’t mean he’s the right person for your recovery,” he grumbles.
“If he does things to make you uncomfortable that don’t align with helping you, then he’s out.
Don’t white knuckle therapy. People who tell you to are out of their goddamned mind. ”
“Good to know.”
“After your appointment, I want you to try sitting up again, and then you’re done for the day,” he adds. “It isn’t going to be comfortable, but it’ll help blood flow and strengthen your muscles. The downside is the dizziness.”
“I don’t like it,” I mutter.
“Two minutes, baby. That’s all you need to do,” Verona urges.
“Ugh. Someone distract me,” I mumble.
“Silas wants to talk to you about some of the charity details, but it may have to wait until after the surgery since you’re going in tomorrow,” Dario says, his thumbs moving up and down my legs. I nod to show I’m listening as my head drops down as I focus on breathing.
The head rush and dizziness is intensely uncomfortable, almost to the point of pain as things shift. I swear I’m not being a baby, but it is triggering panic inside of me due to my heart rate increasing.
“They’ve found a building for the shelter, and are considering buying the one next to it as well to create an outreach center,” he continued.
I focus on the sound of his voice, and make a sound to show that I’m following him.
“Silas says they need to make some decisions about renovations so it can better serve the community, but there is no one to staff it yet.”
“We’ve all been busy,” I admit.
“Almost dying gets you a free pass out of altruism,” Dr. Walsh grunts as the alarm goes off. “Dario, please help her lay back down and then flip over into her stomach.”
Dario stands as he helps me, his eyes filled with pride as he kisses my cheek. When the small things are harder than they should be, everything feels like it needs to be celebrated.
I’m so glad I no longer need an IV. I’m past the point of infection, and I only use pain medication if I absolutely need it. I try not to take it because I dislike how they make me feel, and I want to be able to speak to the therapist without feeling groggy.
“I love you,” he murmurs.
“I love you too. I’m missing something…”
Dr. Walsh and Verona leave the room, and it sounds like they’re arguing about something. I’m sure I’ll find out later if it’s important, but I’m focused elsewhere at the moment.
“What?” Dario asks, sitting carefully beside me as he brushes my hair back. My pack has helped me wash my hair, clean up, and generally take care of myself while trying to not fuck up my back.
I feel like my skin itches as it knits itself back together, and no one tells you how fucking maddening that is.
“I want to finish our bond before I have to do this therapy appointment,” I confess. “I’ve been a really good little omega and I deserve something good.”
“Oh.” His eyes widen so much, I realize he’s trying to hold back tears. “Of course you do, Rosalia. It’s always been yours.”
Dario holds out his wrist to me, and I bring it to my lips.
The beginning bond we have feels so different than the ones I have with my alphas, but I hold it in a special place in my heart because of that.
Biting down on his wrist, the tension in my body from the physical therapy exercise releases as our bond snaps into place.
Dario closes his eyes, crying harder as he sucks in a breath.
“Fuck, I didn’t know how much I needed that,” he whispers. “Thank you for being you, Little Queen. Thank you for fighting for us.”
Laying my head back on the pillow, I proudly gaze at the bite marks on my beta.
“Thank you for finding me,” I rasp. “Let’s never do that again, okay? It still sucks.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckles through his tears. “Ugh. I’m going to get myself together before I have you leaking too. I can tell you’re close.”
I nod, feeling the emotions bubbling up inside of me. Dario kisses my temple before he leaves, and Nico slips inside.
“Do you mind if I hang out with you for a little bit?” he asks.
“You never have to ask,” I admit, holding my hand out to him. “You don’t have to sneak in to sleep in here either.”
“You noticed that?” he asks, sitting on the ground as he links his fingers with mine.
“Why do you think I sleep so well at night?” I ask with a smile. Hell, I even laughed yesterday. Take that, Avery! No matter how hard she tried to kill me, I’m still standing and I always will be.
“Still no nightmares. I think you’re my hero, Rosa.”
“I’m not a hero, husband. I’m just a girl living from moment to moment still,” I admit.
“You’re still here, mia cara moglie. It’s so hard for me to believe sometimes because I felt so much of your pain,” he whispers.
“Sometimes, I wonder if I’m really here. Am I in a coma and dreaming all of this?” I ask.
“Dreams don’t come with this much physical therapy and personal growth,” he teases me. “It’s hard for me to be somewhere I can’t see you.”
“You did mention once that you’d be Velcro’d to my ass,” I remind him. “I don’t mind one bit. I promise. I want you around.”
“Good. Nothing feels right without you. We all felt it,” he says. His voice is deep, husky, and sweet despite the feral look on his face. “Do you think I’ll scare people when I have to speak to them now?”
“I think in your line of work that’s not a bad thing. Honey and sweetness only get you so far in life, as we both know. Your voice shows people you’ve experienced some of the worst shit life has to offer, and you’re still here.”
“I could say the same for you. I need to tell you something. Please don’t get upset,” he says with a wince.
“Nico,” I say, amusement heavy in my voice. “Honestly, you should just tell me with a delivery like that.”
“Your ring,” he murmurs, his finger running over mine. “There’s a tracker inside of it. Pablo has a ring too, and there’s one in his too. I thought I could keep you safe with it, but you disappeared on me anyway.”
“Avery…” My brow furrows as I try to remember something important. “She said she had a signal blocker. Cell phones and the like didn’t work well within a certain radius of the warehouse, creating a dead zone. I’m sure she had a work-around for herself, but it’s why you couldn’t track me.”
“She had help,” Nico grunts, knowing she did. I told my pack everything that happened, though I didn’t think to mention the dead zone. It didn’t seem important at the time.
“Tina the cunt,” I state.
“I’m calling her that from now on.” Nico glances toward the door, sighing as Verona appears with her phone. “I’ll see you once you’re done, baby. Here’s to getting past this, both inside and out.”
Indeed. I want to finally know I deserve a fucking future and believe good things.