Page 96 of Skye
I don’t argue with him, knowing it would be pointless, and I’m eager to get this over with, so I can reclaim my place back in Rage’s arms.
The doctor carefully peels the dressings off my stomach, a job made easier by the shower loosening the adhesive, and I watch as a trickle of blood escapes from one part of the cut. The rest seems to have clotted beneath the dressing, which loosens the fist around my heart a little.
“I don’t think you’ll need stitches, but this will need to be cleaned a few times a week. The weapon that did it… was it clean?”
“I don’t think so.”
“I’ll prescribe a course of antibiotics as well, just in case.”
“We were in a car accident before…” Rage trails off, not wanting to explain what ‘before’ alludes to.
The doctor quizzes me, asking endless questions about any pain I might have, but in truth, only the back of my neck and shoulders hurt from being flung forwards.
He then asks me to roll down my shorts and pulls out a portable ultrasound device. He rambles on about how it’s not as good as what they use in the hospital, but technology has come far enough for it to be a useful tool.
I stare at the ceiling overhead, blocking his voice out as he squirts the cold jelly on my stomach and then presses the probe into my abdomen. I can’t stop the hiss of pain from the cut, which makes Rage growl at him, but his anger is muted as the whooshing sound of our baby’s heartbeat spills out from the machine.
I cover my face with my hands and sob uncontrollably. I hadn’t dared to hope, but hearing that sound, strong and resilient, undoes me.
Rage comes around the bed, sinking down next to me, and presses his mouth to mine. “That’s the best sound I’ve ever heard.”
I nod my agreement, swiping at my tears. “She’s okay.”
“Everything looks as I would expect,” the doctor confirms.
After he’s finished with me, he cleans the gash on Rage’s head and wraps his wrists. He suggests a brain scan, just to ensure he has nothing worse than a concussion, but Rage dismisses this.
I’m glad when he’s done and it’s just Rage and me once again. He climbs back into the bed with me, and I immediately position myself on his chest.
His fingers trail over my back and arm, comforting me and reducing the anxiety gnawing at me.
When I wake again, Rage is gone, but Sariah is sitting on the sofa. She puts down her phone, her smile genuine as she steps over to the bed.
“Where’s Beau?”
“He went to make you something to eat. I said I’d sit with you until he gets back.”
She sits on the edge of the bed, in the small space between my legs and the mattress. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”
I shift my shoulders, not comfortable being a victim in this. “Just another day in my father’s world.Ourfather’s,” I amend.
“My husband and yours are steaming mad about all this. Luke is worried dear old dad might decide to target me as well.” It wouldn’t surprise me. Truthfully, I don’t think there is any line my father will not cross.
“This wasn’t Dad. This was Tommy, one of his soldiers,” I clarify when she looks confused. It hurts to refer to him in such a detached way, but I can’t see him as anything but a stranger anymore. “There was some kind of power struggle going on between them, and he had this crazy idea that using me could help cement his status as head of the Pioneers.”
Sariah raises her brow. “I didn’t think they did arranged marriages in the Pioneers.”
“They don’t.” I rest my head back against the headboard. “I agree with you, though. Our father is a danger to us and to those that we care about. He is never going to stop trying to hurt the people I care about.”
Sariah sits forwards, interlacing her fingers in her lap. “I hate to say it, Skye, but the only thing to do with a threat is to eliminate it.”
This would mean losing my father, becoming an orphan. I want to believe my father loves me in his own way, but his actions speak louder than words. He left me under the control of Scarlett, who used that power to torment me and force me to keep this baby, though I don’t regret that last part. Not once during that time did he reach out to me or come to see me.
“I know,” I say quietly. “He has friends in high places. It won’t be an easy thing to…” I can’t say the word ‘kill’, as much as I know that’s what we’re talking about.
Sariah reaches out and grabs my hand in hers. “We’re just getting to know each other, and I know I have to earn some trust with you, but I spent years under the control of Declan Easton. I know how these men work and about the ruthless edges they have in order to maintain the empires they build. I won’t have you become cannon fodder in this war he has with the bikers. I only just found you, and I really want to get to know you better.”
I squeeze her fingers in mine. A sister was never something I expected, but when I talk to Sariah, I feel this kindred connection between us. From what she’s said, I know she has also suffered hell at the hands of those around her. It’s time to put a stop to that, to protect ourselves from people who would use us.