Chapter Sixteen
York
The sound of her crying out for me was going to haunt my dreams for years to come. That bone-deep fear in her voice, crying out to me for help. Not the cops. Not a neighbor. Me.
I didn’t even explain anything to the confused Denali as I ran through the house, barking out to Eddie what was happening, telling him to call Harmon over to help him with my daughter, then flying the fuck out of the clubhouse and peeling down the street on my bike.
It was a fifteen-minute drive.
I made it in eight.
But it was still too late.
The bastard was long gone.
The neighbors had scared him off and called the cops.
There was nothing I could do but be there with her as she was questioned about the events, as she tried to keep it together to give them what they needed.
I normally wouldn’t have told her to talk to the cops. They’d done fuck-all for her so far. But because the neighbors called, she had to give her report.
And, hey, who knew. Maybe they wouldn’t be completely useless like the others had been. Maybe they’d find the asshole on a camera, get a plate, something.
But while they twiddled their thumbs and tried to untangle the red tape, I was going to have Arty do the same things. Likely a lot faster and more effectively.
First, though, was taking care of Runa.
She’d been wide-eyed and shell-shocked through most of her police interview, coughing and rasping out her answers as best she could.
I knew once they left that the near-miss of it all, the fear, and the pain were going to hit her hard.
I didn’t know what was going on under her clothes, but there was a cut on her lip and a bruise on the side of her face.
Nothing, though, was as bad as that red band around her throat, one I knew would turn deep shades of purple and blue as the hours dragged on.
I couldn’t help but think of Denali, of her seeing her mother like this. I guess we could use makeup on the cheek, excuse a split lip as some sort of accident. But her throat…
Would she think it was weird if her mom started wearing a scarf?
What other way could we protect her from this reality? She’d already seen too much, knew too much, feared for both herself and her mother. She didn’t need more evidence that there were things to fear. We’d have to hide this from her as best we could.
That was all that was on my mind as I left my bike behind at her apartment and hopped into Seeley’s car instead, letting him drive us back to Miami to visit his wife’s clinic.
Runa stayed curled into me the whole time—her head on my chest, her legs draped over mine, her fingers toying with the edge of my T-shirt.
The situation was fucked, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like having her close like that.
She’d been avoiding me as best she could since the tent. Putting up walls that didn’t need to be there. Protecting herself from what? I didn’t know. Getting attached, maybe, when her life had been nothing but tearing up roots.
It was something I’d wanted to talk to her about, but she was clever in her ability to use Denali as a way to avoid me.
That wouldn’t be possible when she was living at the clubhouse. Though, I couldn’t exactly demand a talk when she could barely speak, and even doing that hurt.
I’d have to bide my time.
Take care of her (and Denali) while she healed.
Then maybe she would hear me out.
When Seeley parked out front, I carried Runa into the clinic, feeling her bury her face against my chest at the bright lights.
“I wish I could stop meeting all the girls like this,” Ama said as she came into the room, sanitizing her hands, then slipping on gloves as I set Runa on the exam table.
“This is Runa.
“Runa,” Ama repeated, voice sweet. “I’ve heard a lot about that sweet little girl of yours. I’m so excited to meet her. Though I’m sorry I have to meet you like this. Damn,” she said, wincing as she angled Runa’s chin up to look at her throat.
There was some pressing around with her hands—on Runa’s neck, face, down her back, and over her ribs.
“I’m sure you don’t feel like it right now, but you were pretty lucky.
No broken bones that I can feel. Your split lip is already closing up, but I’m going to clean that up.
Your throat, well, that is just going to suck for a few days.
But I’m sure someone can persuade Eddie into making you some homemade ice pops and ice cream that might help.
Or tea. Everyone’s different in what feels better. ”
She paused to listen to Runa’s heart and lungs before working on cleaning up her face.
“You look like you have a headache,” Ama observed. “Did you hit your head hard at any point?”
“Twice.”
“Okay. We need to consider a concussion. The hard part here is the oxygen deprivation can mimic some concussion signs. It wouldn’t be abnormal for you to have a headache, dizziness, or some nausea from being strangled.
And speech might be hard, but not slurred.
So if we hear slurred speech, I want to know.
Or if she stops making sense,” she said, looking over at me.
“Same thing if she is slow to answer, has trouble concentrating, has confusion or memory loss. And it is absolutely a call an ambulance type situation if she is violently throwing up, has seizures, her one pupil is larger than the other, or she simply can’t stay awake. ”
“It will be normal for her to be tired now. From the lack of oxygen and the trauma. But if she is hard to wake, that’s an emergency.”
“Got it,” I agreed.
“I do think most of what you’re feeling is from the strangulation, but I want to make you aware of anything else to look out for. But I will be dropping in to check on you, too. And not just because Eddie cooks up a storm when someone is hurt or sick and I want to steal a plate.”
Runa gave her a weak smile at that.
“Now, avoid all blood thinners in case of a concussion. So no NSAIDs, not even for your headache. If you have to, take acetaminophen. But if you could just try to sleep off the headache, that would be best. Alright.” She took a step back and pulled off her gloves.
“Unfortunately, there’s really nothing I can do for you except tell you to rest, get fluids, take care of your sore throat, and watch for any serious concussion signs.
I’m sorry. I hate not being able to help fix something, but… ”
“Thanks,” Runa rasped out.
“Ama, on a less doctor side and more of a mom one, any idea how we can hide this from Denali?”
“I’d like to say honesty is the best policy, like I tell my kids.
But the fact of the matter is, parents need to lie sometimes.
So I think maybe leaning into Mommy being sick might work.
Mommy has a sore throat, that’s why she sounds like that.
And she is wearing a scarf because it’s important to keep your throat warm when you’re sick.
An old wives’ tale, of course, but so what?
Makeup for the bruise. Whacked her face with a cabinet for the lip.
Kids that age usually just believe you if the lie is plausible enough. ”
“Thanks, Ama. Really.”
“Anytime. I will see you guys tomorrow to check in,” she said before leaving us alone in the room.
“How do you feel about lying to Denali about being sick?”
“I like it.”
“Yeah, me too. I don’t think we need her any more scared than she is about something bad happening.
And soup, tea, ice pops, all that kinda shit that will help your throat is stuff she would have had you bring to her when she was sick.
It shakes out. Plus, there will be a lot of distractions at the clubhouse to keep her mind from wandering too much. ”
She nodded at that, looking like she could barely keep her eyes open another second.
“Let me go see if Seeley is bringing us back to the clubhouse. Give me one sec.”
“I called Teddy. He’s going to send his car for you guys,” Seeley said when I emerged. “I’m gonna drop Ama home, then I’m heading to Miami to get in touch with Arty. He needs to escalate this and figure this shit out. She’s a mom. She can’t keep getting attacked like this.”
“Thanks, man. I would go myself—”
“Nah. Your place is at home, taking care of your girls. I’ll check in after I get in touch with him. Let you know what he’s doing.”
“Appreciate it,” I said, exhaling hard as I saw Teddy’s town car pull up.
With that, I carried a still-weak Runa out to the car, finding not only had Teddy had his man stock some cold drinks and ice cream, but a collection of designer silk scarves and lightweight cashmere ones.
At my questioning look as she sipped a cold water, I shrugged. “The club has a few very wealthy friends. Teddy, who is rich legitimately and has fancy town cars and a bunch of houses, then Zayn, who is less legitimately wealthy and likes to spend his money on yachts and hot tubs full of champagne.”
She shot me a weak smile at that.
“You’re gonna be alright. You got a whole club who is gonna want to wait on you hand-and-foot now. I have Harmon setting up the empty room for you guys. Caymen moved out recently, so there is one up for grabs temporarily.”
As much as I wanted Runa in my room, in my bed, I understood that Runa would probably not want to leave Denali alone in a room in a still new place.
“She’s probably already arranging all her stuffed animals and figurines all around the room,” I said, getting a soft smile from Runa.
“Everything’s gonna be alright. I’m gonna make sure of it.
” I reached out, giving her knee a squeeze.
Her hand went on top of mine, holding it for a long moment before snatching it away and pretending that picking out a scarf was of the utmost importance.
We made it into the house after stopping to pick up and carefully apply some concealer to her face. Runa paused to pull the blanket off the back of the couch and wrap it around her before we followed Denali’s voice into the kitchen.
She was sitting at the table with Dixon and a couple of the club kids with a giant platter of food in front of her: lasagna, quesadillas, salad, sweet potato fries, and a bowl of mixed fruit. From the looks of her, she’d already had (and spilled) quite a bit of lasagna.
“Mommy!” she cheered, but her face quickly fell.
“Turns out Mommy has a really bad cold,” I told her, surprised how much I hated the lie.
My whole career meant a lot of lying. It never bothered me.
Lying to my kid, though? A whole different thing.
“She’s got a really sore throat and is going to need us to bring her tons of ice pops, ice cream, tea, and cold drinks to her while she heals up. Think you can help me do that?”
There was a small bit of suspicion in Denali’s eyes but she nodded.
“Maybe Eddie will even let you help make ice cream for Mommy,” I added.
Her eyes brightened at that as she looked over at the man in question.
“I can always use a helper in the kitchen, lil’ pip,” he said. “Gotta get you your own apron. What color do you like?”
“Princess.”
We all laughed at that. “Alright. Princess it is. I’ll get you one, and we will make your mom the best ice cream she’s ever had so her throat can feel better.”
Seeming to sense the need to reinforce the lie as he came into the kitchen from the backyard, Velle nodded at Runa. “My grandma always used to make me wear a scarf when I was sick, too. She told me it helped warm up the cold.”
That, it seemed, was what Denali needed to fully buy the lie. And we all relaxed a little as she prattled on about Eddie’s lasagna and how one might go about making black raspberry ice cream.
“I’m gonna leave that one to the expert,” I said, waving to Eddie. “While I go get your mom in bed so she can rest, okay?”
“Okay.”
“You can come check on her anytime you want,” I added as I led the heavy-limbed Runa up the stairs and down the hallway to the room she’d be staying in.
A short snort of a laugh escaped her as she found that not only had Denali organized all her toys around the room, but she’d set her books up in a stack on the nightstand, put her blanket on the bed, set up her little astronaut projector, and left her orangutan stuffed animal on her mother’s bed wearing the zookeeper medical kit I’d bought her.
“That’s a cute kid we got,” I said as I led Runa over to her bed and pulled back the covers.
She nodded at that.
“Alright. You’ve got blankets, the remote,” I said, putting that on her lap, along with tissues, and a random-ass book about the swamplands I spotted on the nightstand. Maybe found and put there by Denali. Who knew. “I’ll bring in the drinks from the car. You want ice pops? Ice cream? Tea?”
“Tea?”
“Milk? Sugar?”
She nodded, and I was about to turn away, but she had the fucking saddest damn look on her face. Like she was completely and utterly lost.
The tea could wait.
I toed off my shoes and moved onto the bed with her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders then flicking through the TV options until I found a series about the national parks, then put that on for her to watch.
The pain, fear, adrenaline, and exhaustion seemed to catch up to her all at once. Before the episode about Grand Teton was over, she was dead weight against me.
Did I maybe sit there and enjoy the feel of that for a while? Yeah, yeah, I did.
Then I carefully climbed off the bed, making sure her scarf was secure, but not too tight, then made my way downstairs to grab our daughter and get her ready for bed.
It was a fucked-up thing to say, considering what led them to needing to be at the clubhouse, but something sure felt right as I tucked in Denali and kissed her goodnight, then followed her instructions to kiss her sleeping mom’s forehead goodnight too.