THIRTY TWO
O utside Poison’s room, Phillip hesitated, uncertain of how to approach her. Like a wary deer cautiously stepping into unfamiliar territory, he entered the room with tentative steps, his movements careful and unsure.
“Hey,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on the floor beneath him as he leaned on the door he shut behind him.
“Hi,” Poison replied, attempting a smile that faltered into a pained grimace. The effort of even the slightest expression caused her discomfort.
The sight of her in pain was unbearable. Without hesitation, he rushed to her side, his hands enveloping hers with a gentle grip.
“How are you feeling?” His eyes scanned her body, searching for any sign of further injury.
Despite her own pain, she tried to reassure him, with a faint attempt at optimism.
“I’m fine, really. Don’t worry,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.
He couldn’t bear to face her, his emotions overwhelming him as he turned away, his face buried in his hands. The weight of guilt and remorse bore down on him, threatening to drown him.
“What was I thinking? How could I do this to you? I’m so sorry. I really…” His words trailed off, choked with guilt, but she intervened before his self-reproach could consume him.
“Shut up, won’t you?” she interjected, managing a strained smile. “You talk way too much; you know that? It was my idea anyway.”
His brow creased in confusion at her assertion as he turned to her, taking her hand again. “What do you mean it was your idea? I was the one who nearly killed you.”
“I know,” she said. “But I knew the risk. I wanted you to fight me, why do you think I was in your territory?” she explained.
For a moment, he considered her words. She wanted him to fight her?
“Why didn’t you kill me?” she asked, as if enquiring about the day’s weather.
His gaze drifted to their entwined hands, his touch
tender as he traced the lines of her palm.
“I couldn’t,” he confessed, his voice hardly above a whisper. “I realized I lost someone I cared for a lot, but killing someone else that I cared for, just to get even, wasn’t worth it. Rex wouldn’t have wanted it,” he admitted, his words heavy.
He stole a glance at Poison, and found her staring at him doe-eyed, her cheeks flushed like delicate rose petals; violated by the bruising under her eyes.
Before she could respond, she was interrupted by a knock at the door. A blonde woman, slightly older than Poison, entered the room with a black bag. Following her was a little girl in her pajamas.
Phillip was grateful for the distraction. He hadn’t realized Poison might not share his feelings. He’d hoped she did but never allowed himself ponder the opposite.
As the woman approached, she briefly touched his shoulder before placing the bag on the floor and focusing her attention on Poison’s uninjured ankle, her expression radiating both maternal love and concern. The little girl’s head appeared next to Poison’s shoulder, her proud grin adding a touch of lightness to the tense atmosphere.
“Nick just called me. What happened?” the woman exclaimed, and he realized it must be Nick’s girlfriend, Nina.
“Well, hello to you, too, Neen. Hey, Demi.”
Despite her injuries, Poison managed to greet the
little girl with a one-armed hug, albeit after gently freeing her hand from his grasp. He was reluctant to let her go, fearing she might vanish if he did.
“Oh, yeah. Hello. So what happened?” Nina’s tone became more insistent, prompting Poison to evade the question.
Phillip had a feeling that explaining to Nina would invite a lecture or, worse, punishment. Nina’s expression superseded that of any disappointed mother.
Poison met his gaze, the compassion in his ink-black eyes registering in her own.
“Nina, this is Scorpion,” she introduced him, then turned to Nina and Demi. “And this is my crazy best friend, Nina, and her kid sister, Demi.” She glanced at each of them, unable to gesture due to his continued hold on her hand.
After a moment’s hesitation, he released her hand to shake Nina’s for the introduction. Despite his bruised and blood-covered knuckles, Nina grasped his hand and shook it. He remained silent as she greeted him curtly, “Nice to finally meet you.” before she turned her attention to Poison again.
“Now, are you going to tell me what happened or not?” Nina’s hands rested on her hips, her expression serious.
He hid behind his smile as he held his breath, waiting for Poison to answer. Would she tell her what happened?
“Nope, I’m not.” Poison’s smile conveyed her defiance, a signal Nina seemed to recognize all too well, the rolling of her eyes making it obvious.
“I just want to get out of this place.” Poison attempted to sit up, but Nina’s stern look halted her in her tracks.
“Let’s first hear what Nick says, and then, maybe, you can go home.”
His voice cut through the tension, startling Poison, and he regretted not lowering his tone. Had she forgotten he was in the room with them? It was the first time he’d spoken since Nina and Demi arrived.
“You can’t leave yet,” he exclaimed, struggling to keep his emotions from his voice.
He couldn’t believe that she wanted to leave already. She had just gotten out of surgery, stared death in the eyes, and had won, and here she was trying to get out of bed.
“Poison has this irrational fear of hospitals. Believes she’s better off licking her wounds at home,” Nina’s explanation came just as Nick knocked on the door.
Before Nick could enter, Poison pleaded with him, her desperation evident. “Please tell me I can go home now?”
Her attempt at a puppy-dog face was almost comical, but Phillip could sense her genuine desire to leave despite her injuries and the surgery she had just undergone.
He understood how she felt. He despised hospitals, the sterile smell, the prying questions—it all grated on his nerves. Thank fuck for their in-house medical staff, or he might just have found a way to get out of the life.
Nick’s sympathetic smile did little to ease the frustration on Poison’s face.
“First thing tomorrow morning,” he promised.
Poison pouted like a little brat, and Phillip couldn’t hide his smile.
“Aww! You know how much I hate this place, Nick!” she moaned, and Nick chuckled.
“It’s just to make sure you’re one hundred percent okay, that there isn’t any more internal bleeding,” Nick reassured her, his demeanor paternal.
Phillip couldn’t help but feel a pang of gratitude for Nick’s and Nina’s care. That they took it upon themselves to keep her safe was something he found himself being jealous of.
“Fine,” she grumbled, shooting a glance at him, who openly grinned at her display of resistance.
For a fleeting moment, he sensed her distraction, her thoughts drifting away from their surroundings. What was she thinking? Did she regret getting involved with him and the mess that he was?
“Well, that’s great news!” Nina’s voice sliced through the severity, pulling his attention back to the present.
“Sorry, I can’t stay any longer, but I have to get little
Miss Stow-Away back to bed.” Nina’s grip tightened on Demi’s hand, annoyance in her voice. “She heard me on the phone with Nick and decided to sneak out on the back seat of the car. Leaving the babysitter to sit the house.”
Poison’s pride in Demi’s mischief was obvious, a small smile gracing her lips as she praised her.
“That’s my Dem,” she said warmly, her gaze softening as she looked at the little girl.
Nina’s expression remained stern. “Get some rest,” she instructed, giving Poison’s uninjured ankle a gentle squeeze.
“I will. Thanks for checking up on me, Neen. Means a lot,” Poison responded, gratitude flickering in her eyes.
Demi approached her cautiously, offering a hesitant hug before bidding her goodbye.
“Bye, P,” she chirped.
“Bye, D. Be good,” Poison replied softly as they left the room, Nina giving Nick a quick kiss goodbye.
“You really should get some rest,” Nick advised, turning to him. “And I need to take a look at your hands.”
He couldn’t help but marvel at Nick and Nina’s unconditional acceptance of him despite the circumstances. They must have known that he was the one to put Poison in the hospital.
“No need,” he retorted, shaking his head. “I’m alright.”
“I insist,” Nick countered. “They’re already quite swollen, and I don’t want any broken bones needing realignment.”
He looked to Poison as if seeking her permission to receive medical treatment—as if not believing that he deserved it, but she nodded.
“Go with Nick,” she said, her voice soft and the smile tugging at the corner of her lips reassuring.
“I’d much rather stay here, if I may?” He looked to Nick, waiting for Poison’s rejection of having him with her, but it never came.
“First, let me take a look at you,” Nick insisted. “Once you’re all cleaned up, and she got some rest,” Nick tilted his head toward Poison as he emphasized the word she . “Then you’re welcome to come back.”
“I’ll be here when you’re done,” she promised, squeezing his hand, and the pressure went right to his heart, overshadowing the pain in his knuckles.
“I’ll be back first thing in the morning,” Scorpion promised and bent down to place a tender kiss on her forehead.
Letting go of her hand was one of the hardest things he ever had to do, but with a last look into those emerald eyes, he burned them into his memory as he followed Nick out the door.
Each step away from Poison became a battle not to turn around. He needed to stay with her, needed to ensure she was safe. But he convinced himself that no harm would come to her in that hospital room.
He followed Nick to a treatment room in the ER wing. Neither of them spoke a word as their footsteps echoed in the empty halls.
Only once inside the room did Phillip dare to break the silence.
“Thank you,” he mumbled, taking a seat on the stretcher while Nick pulled supplies from a cabinet.
“Don’t mention it,” he responded, pulling a stool closer and examining his hands. “It’s my job to take care of my patients.”
“It’s not that,” He shook his head, and Nick gave him a questioning look. “Thank you for not asking questions.”
A soft laugh rippled from Nick’s chest. “Where Poison is concerned, one quickly learns not to ask too many questions.”
“She’s definitely something else,” he mused, staring at the bruises forming on his blood-stained knuckles.
Regret gripped his throat and made it impossible to breathe. If he hadn’t stopped, if he had completely lost control… He wouldn’t have been able to live with himself.
“Nothing seems to be broken,” Nick announced, pulling him from the edge of the dark pit of his thoughts. “Just a hairline fracture on your middle knuckle. Here,” he said, pressing a tender spot on his hand.
“Nothing I’m not used to,” he shrugged. “Thanks for taking a look, Doc.”
“Don’t mention it,” Nick smiled, removing the gloves he had put on before examining his hands.
“I should let her sleep, shouldn’t I?” He didn’t want to, but he tried not to be selfish.
“That would be best,” Nick confirmed. “Go home and get some rest yourself. I’ll take good care of her.”
“I’ll be back in the morning,” he said, and walked out of the room with a heavy heart.