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“Family of Peyton Draper?” I stepped forward, and so did Ace. The rest of the men in the room paid attention, listening intently, but they all stayed seated, knowing this was for me and Ace to hear. “I…” The doctor pulled in a deep breath, looking about as tired as we all felt. “I’ll start with the historical injuries.”
“Historical?” Ace asked, his timbre so deep I swore I could feel it vibrating. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means the injuries she’s had that show healing in a way that wasn’t done right.” I frowned. “She shows historical fractures to her ribs, one on her arm, her cheekbone, and her collarbone.” He was silent for several seconds. “These are classic signs of an abusive relationship, but I have no hospital records to prove this.” The doctor was to the point, not elaborating, and part of me wondered if this was standard procedure to tell the family things like this—if it was ethical—then I remembered who Ace was, who we were. Rules didn’t apply to men like us. They never had and never would.
“Noted,” Ace said, tilting his head to the side. The doctor nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he read between the lines. We were in Ace’s territory, and the doctor clearly knew who he was. “And her injuries from today?” Ace asked moving the doctor along.
“The new injuries will take a while to heal, but with the correct medical treatment, I expect her to have a full recovery. Her shoulder and hand are broken, her shoulder may need surgery but we will know more when the specialist comes down to see her. There was a three-inch gash on the back of the head that has been glued and stitched.” The doctor shuffled on the spot, his gaze veering between me and Ace, not focusing on one of us for more than ten seconds at a time.
“What else?” I asked. I needed to know it all. I needed to know what I was stepping into.
“She has bruises over her body, and a rape kit has been administered…” He trailed off, the impact of what he was saying hitting me like a ton of bricks. I was gonna kill that motherfucker, there was no doubt about that. And it would be painful, just the way he deserved.
“When can I see her?” I asked, already stepping forward.
The doctor let out a long breath and closed his clipboard. “She’s sleeping at the moment but I’ll get a nurse to come and get you so you can sit with her.” He nodded, turning around, but then halted at the last second. “She’s on the list for the OBGYN to come down and check her out too after the loss of the baby.”
My face paled. “Baby?” I echoed.
The doctor clipped his head in confirmation, completely unaware of what his words were doing to me. “She was about six weeks along, so it’s classed as an early miscarriage, but it can still cause issues, so best to be on the safe side and get checked.” And with that, he exited the room leaving me standing there dumbfounded.
She was pregnant. Six weeks pregnant.
I turned, doing the math in my head, my attention focusing on my dad as my legs gave way. My knees collided with the floor, everything moving in slow motion. Part of me wondered if I was jumping to conclusions, but I knew I wasn’t. I just knew it.
“She said the baby was yours,” Ace whispered from behind me, sounding just as broken as I felt in that moment. I’d promised myself that I’d be strong when I came in here, but here I was, shattering to pieces in a room full of Mafia men.
“It’s okay, son,” Dad said, crouching down in front of me. “Let it all out now,” he told me, his voice lowering, but not enough that everyone else wouldn’t be able to hear him. “Because the moment you see her, you need to be strong. You need to be there for her in a way that you’ve never been there for anyone else.” He tapped the side of my face, demanding my attention, and when I looked him dead in the eyes, he continued, “We’ll make him pay for this. But right now, Peyton needs you.”
He was right. She needed me. But…I needed her just as much. I needed to hold her. I needed to tell her that it would be okay, that I was by her side and had no intention of leaving.
But it was then that I realized that she wasn’t the only one that needed me…
I turned my head to face Ace, croaking out, “The boys…” I cleared my throat, getting to my feet as I tried to pull myself together. I had to be the strong one now. “Where are my boys?”
Ace’s eyes flashed at my words, but I didn’t care. Those boys didn’t belong to him, or their piece-of-shit father, they were my boys now—my responsibility.
“They’re safe.”
I nodded, my muscles tense. “I want extra security on them at all times,” I demanded.
Ace cracked his neck to the side, clearly pissed off with what I was saying, but I didn’t give a fuck because if he couldn’t make sure they were safe until I’d put something in place, then he needed to tell me now.
“Already done. Travis won’t get near them.”
I had to take his word for it, for now at least because first, I needed to see Peyton. And it was that moment that the nurse walked in, so I followed her dutifully, not aware of anything around me or the route we took. It was only as she stopped outside of a private room that I finally switched on, pulling myself together, and pushing my shoulders back.
This was it. This was the moment that I could finally start making amends.
She opened the door, and it was as if she’d punched me right in the middle of the chest, knocking the air out of me.
I shuffled inside, hearing the click of the door behind me as the nurse left. And then it was just me and her.
Her eyes were closed, her chest moving up and down. I couldn’t help but scan her body, taking note of the cast on her hand and the swelling on the side of her face. But that was nothing compared to the dried blood in places and the dark purple bruises mixing with darker brown ones, a sure sign that all of this wasn’t fresh.
Her eyes fluttered open, trying to focus on me, but then they closed again. I hadn’t expected her to lift her good hand, but she did, followed by a whispered, “Raf.”
Butterflies swarmed in my stomach at my name coming out of her mouth, and I couldn’t help but dart over to her, then take her hand in mine. It was the first time I’d touched her in a month, and fuck…I’d missed it. I’d missed her, more than she would ever know.
