Page 85 of The Game
He nods in understanding before he bursts out laughing, finishing off his beer and setting it aside.
“Just when I think I’ve seen it all,” he teases, crossing his arms as I smile gently. “So expand on that. What were the dynamics?”
Puffing out my cheeks, I stretch my arms across the cool countertops and consider his question before I answer.
“It was…perfect. I secretly wanted them, they secretly wanted me, and it all just sort of happened. I…always felt connected, safe when I was with them…” I trail off, eyes tracing the patterns of the concrete counter tops.
“And you don’t feel safe anymore.”
Frowning, I allow the truth out, nodding.
“Everything changed so much. They…” my eyes flit to his, but he waits patiently. Ellie told me I could tell him literally anything, said she’d told him things she would never even tell me, and so maybe it is okay to share my deepest secrets and scars with him. “They killed my father, and that’s when I was blackmailed.”
He’s quiet as I detail out the entire story for him, from the moment I entered the circus, to the day Teddy and I were finally thrown together in the ring, to the sex and our baby and the night I almost lost everything. By the time I’m done, he’s leaning toward me on the opposite side of the counter, his face filled with sorrow and empathy, his eyes kind and gentle.
“And what do you want now, Alice? What is the one thing that if you could have, you’d take it without hesitation?”
And my eyes flicking up to his, I share the truth that’s been festering in my soul since that fateful night.
“I want to watch the light leave Daniel’s fucking eyes, and I want to be the one to do it.”
CHAPTER 43
Jameson
“And how does this feel?” the doctor asks Alice as she prods along her lower belly. Standing with arms crossed against the wall of her bedroom, I do my best to keep my face stoic. Tristan is seated at her desk, his brows pulled low over his eyes, her deep purplish scars painting her slender stomach such a macabre sight. A sight that reminds us how close she came to losing her life that night.
Her therapy session lasted close to two hours, and instead of inviting us to join as was planned, we’d simply scheduled another meeting later this week. At some point, we know Teddy will have to be involved for obvious reasons, but I am focused on taking one step at a time with her. She seems more open, slightly exhausted, but overall calmer. I’m proud of her for listening to Teddy and I, despite the fact it still irks me that he has any say over her life.
My thoughts are snapped back to the present as Alice winces.
“Just…sore.”
Doctor Johnson frowns. She’s been our medic since the time we landed here in the states. Private doctor to the Fordsons, she now extends her help to us as well. I watch with keen eyes as she presses against the same spot on Alice’s right side, noting how Alice again winces.
“Still tender?”
“Yeah,” Alice says softly, biting her lip, staring at the ceiling with a look of deep concentration. Normally, we’d not be this invasive, but after what happened in the woods, being present for this appointment was a must, and Alice didn’t argue on it.
“I think you’re safe to start some minimal core exercises. Your wounds are healing exceptionally well. The area that hurts…have you had intercourse recently?”
Alice immediately flushes crimson and nods softly, avoiding everyone’s eyes. Doctor Johnson frowns, her brown ponytail streaked through with gray.
“Let’s give that another week or two and focus on exercising first. I really would like to see you have one full cycle before you try anything too strenuous.”
Guilt gnaws at me, and as I glance at Tristan, his gaze has dropped to his hands, his thumb pressing against his own scars. Funny, how everything about us still matches, from the holes in our hands and feet, to the woman we love relentlessly. At least that fucker didn’t have a railroad spike pounded into his knee.
“Okay,” Alice complies easily. It’s odd, seeing her shift so quickly from biting and courageous to soft and meek, these two sides to her always present. It makes me bristle, ache to comfort her, protect her, but I know I need to keep my distance until she seeks that out on her own. Besides, playing with her fire is pretty fucking entertaining and arousing, this difference in her calling to a more primal side of me.
Doctor Johnson prods along the stab wounds higher up near her belly button, and Tristan speaks lowly, his voice full of a type of earnest reserved only for Alice.
“Her uterus?”
It’s been on all our minds collectively; she’s not menstruated, which begs the question of other damage we’ve not yet determined. Doctor Johnson pulls away, rolling her gloves off as Alice sits up and tugs her shirt back down. After a small sigh, a soft smile lights her face.
“Fortunately for Alice, men are…well, to put it lightly, rather uneducated when it comes to a woman’s body. He stabbed high enough up that he missed it completely. Her right ovary was just…” she trails off, her smile fading.
“A fluke,” Alice finishes quietly. Doctor Johnson turns her sad eyes to ourbabochka, reaching out to pat her hand.