Page 31 of Timber's Girl
My face is sore as hell, I have a concussion from being knocked about, and stitches for the cut on my hand, but things could be worse.
Broken bones.
Dead.
“Are you up to talking with PD? An officer is waiting in the hall to get your statement,” Gideon says, stroking my arm above the IV in my hand.
“Send them in. Might as well get it over with.”
A Suitor’s Crossing deputy enters the room as everyone but Gideon files out, and once his pen’s poised above his little notebook, I relay what happened, including Dean's mention of Martha.
“You think she drugged you?” the deputy asks.
“I can’t say for sure. Maybe my sickness really was a random stomach bug, but either way, it’s odd. I’m not even sure how Dean and Martha know each other. They might have met once at a company party we attended as a couple…?” I shrug myshoulders, too tired to figure out how my former coworker fits into all of this.
“We’ll certainly look into it, ma’am. Is there anything else we should know?”
Gideon pins the deputy with a hard stare. “Did your department receive the file on Dean’s illegal actions while on duty in Everton?”
“Yes, Sheriff Lawson thanks the Reaper’s Wolves for the information.” The officer closes his notebook and clips the pen to his shirt pocket. “If that’s all, I’ll see myself out. If we have any more questions, we’ll be in touch. Take care now.”
Once Gideon and I are alone, I settle into the lumpy hospital pillow and turn my head to face him. “Did the doctor say how long I’d have to stay? We can monitor the concussion at home.”
“They want to keep you for a 24-hour observation period. Just relax and rest. Enjoy the pain meds.” His finger gently feathers down one swollen cheek.
Sighing, I close my eyes. “Damn Dean. This is the first time he actually put me in the hospital.”
“It will be the last time, too,” Gideon promises. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner. Snow, Fox, and I got the alert of a security breach, but they went to check the southern property border while I was coming from Reaper’s Revamp. McCoy Security didn’t have cameras set up yet, so the guys had to manually track the intruder to your cabin.”
“Well, even if they’d failed tracking school, I’m sure the ruckus Dean and I caused once outside would’ve drawn attention from the clubhouse. I should have aimed for his neck with that glass shard,” I mutter. Although having Dean’s death on my hands would suck—it’d ensure he haunted me forever when I want to forget about his existence.
“You still got him, though. I saw the gash. It was long and deep.”
“A lot of good it did me.” A brow raises as I point to my puffy face. I feel like an overfilled balloon about to burst.
“You slowed him down. That counts for a lot when seconds matter. How are you feeling otherwise?”
The rhythmic beep of the heart monitor sounds in the background as I take stock of my mind and body. The adrenaline is gone, leaving a massive hangover. Physically, I’m weary and wounded, but emotionally?
Months ago, an altercation with Dean would have sent me spiraling into fear—triggering a fight or flight response—but aside from remnants of my earlier terror, I feel mostly fine. Victorious, even.
I fought back rather than letting fear immobilize me, and Dean is behind bars. It’s possible he might get out on bail, but I don’t think he’s going to be able to weasel out of assault charges, breaking and entering, plus whatever dirt the MC dug up on him. He’s getting locked away for good.
“Surprisingly okay,” I admit, finally answering Gideon’s question. Grabbing his hand, I bring it to my chest, right over my heart. “Dean doesn’t have power over me any longer. He hasn’t in a while, but today really helped it sink in. I’m not the same person I was when we were together. I’ve grown and become a stronger, more resilient version of myself. Thanks to therapy, the book club girls, and you.”
“Don’t give me too much credit. You were already strong as fuck when we met—getting away from Dean, trusting the MC, a bunch of strangers I might add, to protect you. I only played a small part in everything.”
“No, you didn’t. But I’ll let you stay humble,” I tease before covering a yawn. “Think you can fit in this bed with me? I wouldn’t mind a warmer blanket.” The one currently settled over my legs and belly isn’t doing much to combat the icy air conditioning blowing overhead.
“I doubt it, but I’m willing to try.” He carefully moves the IV line and cords out of the way then balances on the edge of the thin mattress. His heavy weight alleviates the last bit of stress bearing down on me as he gingerly spoons my back.
“You’re the best comforter,” I mumble, snuggling into his solid warmth.
“You’re the best. Period, Lindy Girl. Now get some sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
TWO WEEKS LATER