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Getting the evidence off my body for the police wasn’t easy, for me or for the nurses. I know they were just doing their jobs, but I had no control over my reactions to their touch. At one point, a nurse came in with a sedative to give me, and before I could go all ape shit about that, my mum stopped it from happening. Then, she pleaded with me to try and endure it a little longer so they could get what they needed.
I couldn’t have done it without my guys. Garrett cupped my face, pressing his forehead to mine, whispering to me.
“You’re the strongest person I know.”
“I’ve never met anyone as brave as you.”
“It will be over soon. You’ve got this.”
Even though he was calling me strong and brave, I still let silent tears fall, trying to remain focused on his deep baritone and not the invasive swabbing between my legs.
Shaun was practically sitting on Garrett’s knee, holding my hand, his thumb stroking over the back, while Marcus sat on the other side, his fingers entwined with mine. Simon paced beside the bed, and when the nurses were finally done, he fussed over me, ordering them to bring me heated blankets while he covered me up and gave me a foot massage, being careful to avoid the healing cuts on the bottom of my feet.
The only problem was that staying in bed felt like I was doing nothing. My mum told me Tyler had been rushed to surgery, but that’s all we know, and not knowing how that was going, was turning me into a caged lioness.
That’s where the rest of the chaos came from. My attempts at getting out of the bed in the emergency ward and trying to run off to find Ty. Of course, I never got far. Shaun or Marcus always catching me each time I tricked them into taking me to the toilet.
After another hour of the harsh lights in the emergency ward, I was moved to an overnight ward, which gave me my own room and more privacy.
“I’m guessing that asking you boys to go home and sleep will fall on deaf ears?” My dad asks after the nurses leave me to get settled.
I’m about to tell Dad I don’t want the guys to leave when Garrett speaks up.
“I mean no disrespect, Mr Rogan, but we aren’t leaving Rhys until she asks us to. Even then, we’ll probably ignore her and stay, anyway.”
My tired eyes widen at Garrett’s words, and I expect my dad to argue, yet he doesn’t, simply nodding and looking around the small space.
“I’ll see if I can organise some more chairs.” He looks exhausted as he leaves the room. Almost as if he’s aged five years since I last saw him.
Still lingering, with my legs dangling over the side of my bed, I glance at the open door across the room that leads into the bathroom.
“I want a shower.”
“Oh, yes, of course. I’ll help you.” My mum steps towards me, but I shake my head.
“It’s ok. I’ll try to do it myself. One of the guys can help me if I need it.”
She looks hurt, so I ease myself off the bed and close the distance between us. “I’m sorry, mum. It’s nothing against you. I just need… them right now. And I really need to know that you’re available for updates about Ty.”
Nodding, my mum gently cups my face. “I can do that for you, honey. But remember, I’m here if you need me.”
I nod back, biting back my emotions because, quite frankly, I’m fucking sick of them. I just want this all to be over.
My mum leaves to see if she can get another update on Ty, and I make my way into the bathroom to shower.
“What do you want us to do, Kitten?” Shaun hovers behind me in the doorway as I eye the open shower and the handheld showerhead. The chrome hose is similar to the one I killed Vik with, and I try to drag my eyes from it, but it’s like a magnet pulling me in.
My stomach rolls, the only warning I get before it lurches. I twist just in time to make it to the toilet, and I crash to my knees, gripping the toilet seat to hold myself steady, my body heaving over and over, trying to cleanse the vileness from inside.
My stupid fucking emotions win out after that, my body collapsing back into Shaun’s arms as I cry. So much pain, almost unbearable, ripples through my body as images flash through my mind. One minute I was walking on cloud nine after spending the weekend with the guys, and the next minute I was being raped by my fucking uncle.
Everything that happened was just so vulgar and violent.
“I killed them.” I cry, hating that I feel so bad about taking the lives of such repugnant humans.
“You were defending yourself, Baby Girl.” Garrett’s voice floats to me, and I’m pretty sure it’s his large hand holding one of mine. I can’t see him through the blur of my tears, though.
“But I killed them. Vik with the shower hose. Brock with the doorstop. Julie with the knife.” I shake my head, trying to will away the images, but they stay put. “I can still hear Vik’s gasps for air. Feel the crunch of Brock’s bones. The smell of Julie’s blood.”
