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The iron fingers around his throat cut his air off. “You did everything in your power, Thane. Atticus's crew cleaned up the blood in your house. We know how much you bled, we know how many bags of the stuff were transfused back in. Not many men could have gotten back on their feet and done what you did. I'll advise you not to say stupid shit like that in front of Atticus and Jasper. They'll beat some sense into you for being an idiot.” With a grunt, Liam released his throat and stepped back, flexing his fingers. “The blame lies with two men who dragged you into a feud you had no fucking knowledge of. They used you as a pawn to get to each other—they’re the ones who need to shoulder this. No one else. Are you gonna dump a heap of guilt on Connie when she wakes up?”
“Of course not,” Thane fired back indignantly, clearing his throat delicately. “She did nothing wrong.”
“Exactly. Don't take responsibility for what isn't yours to carry, Thane—she wouldn't want you to. There's enough crap in this world we have to drag around without taking on extra weight. Just focus on getting her through this, and we'll deal with everything else when we need to. Get some more sleep, brother.”
Thane rubbed his neck gently as Liam strolled from the room, pulling his phone from his pocket. The Viking Master had a strict side, didn't he? But strict or not, perhaps he had a point. It was something to think about in depth while he lay in this damn hospital bed. Well, something else to think about—Connie held center stage of his thoughts now. The immediate threat was contained, so he could concentrate on loving her, guiding her through whatever minefield Guthrie had created inside her.
The next few months would be hardest for Connie. Oh, he knew the drill for his own recovery, and while it pissed him off, he would survive waiting for the wound to heal, removing the stitches, and the start of physical therapy. By the time fall rolled around, he'd be back swinging a flogger. He remembered the spiel from three years ago, and he suspected muscle memory would help him with the daily exercises needed to rebuild damaged tissues for a second time.
Of course, in the long run, there was no guarantee his body would be as forgiving this time. A large portion of the wound had been scar tissue, which would take longer to heal. That left him open to infections, and his healing period would likely be a few weeks longer. The doctor warned him there was a chance he'd have to rely on pain meds going forward.
Nothing new there.
But Connie’s recovery would take a lot longer. Mental and emotional trauma always did. Handling her care would take patience, and he couldn’t afford to take even the smallest step back from her in the meantime—Connie would believe she'd been abandoned, yet again.
Something horrible had been done to her, almost a reenactmentof Evan's brutal assault. Thane would do anything in his power to make sure she never had a reason to believe he—or any of their friends—would throw her away. Because if he didn’t, if she felt isolated or discarded, her self-esteem would plummet, the depression they'd been working so hard to drag her out of would return tenfold, and he would lose her.
Being a smart man, he recognized this moment for what it was—one hell of a turning point in their lives. One of those forked roads where Fate offered two directions, and their future relied on which path they chose. But he couldn’t make that choice without her.
Connie’s roots were buried in the comfort of her friends, of the Masters. She needed all of them as much as she needed him, to become whole again.
Someone grabbed his shoulder and pushed him upright. Thane’s eyes popped open—hell, he hadn't even realized they'd closed—and focused on the bearded menace scowling down at him.
“Did you pass out?” Atticus demanded gruffly.
“I was thinking.” Thane ran a hand over his face and blinked. “Lots of time on my hands, and too many thoughts to process in one go.”
“Hospitals do that to you. Even the cushy private sector ones.” The Master sat in the visitor's chair Liam had vacated, and the damn thing groaned in protest beneath his bulk. He leaned back and tapped his fingers on his knee. “Liam was here?”
Thane glanced down at Connie, relaxed when he saw she was still curled against him. Her eyes were shut, the swelling a little less apparent, although the bruising had deepened. She wasn't asleep, not quite. “Yeah.”
“He ream you out for being an idiot and hefting the blame for this shit?”
Thane ran a fingertip around the tender area on his throat. “Could say that.”
“Good. Saves me from whaling the crap out of an injured man.” Amused green eyes assessed him, obviously approving of what he saw on Thane's face. “We have some things to discuss, Thane. Are you feeling up to doing it now, or would you rather we wait for a few days?”
“Might as well deal with it now, as long as you're aware of little ears eavesdropping.” Thane shifted his aching body further up the bed, then exhaled when the pillows took his weight. He'd forgotten how instrumental the upper body was for doing everything. He began to stroke Connie’s hair. “Do we need to take notes?”
Att shook his head. “No, it’s not anything you’ll forget. You should know there is no evidence to suggest Connie was raped. Despite her reluctance to cooperate with the doctors, they checked her over.”
Oh, they were jumping straight into the fire, Thane thought. “I’m pretty damn sure I took the bastard down before he had the chance. He still had his pants on, Atticus. Zipper down, cock out and in hand, but I don't think he had the opportunity to do anything with it before I interrupted and knocked his fucking teeth out. The fucker had beaten her and was jacking off over her. A couple more minutes, and it would have been a different story.”
“We're not dwelling on that, Thane. It can't have been easy, doling out payback that way. I know people, and you're not an inherently violent man, despite your career path. It's one of the reasons I hooked you up with my favorite girl in the first place. The main thing is, you diverted a disaster, you contained a threat, and you neutralizedit.Little ears over there isn't as broken as she thinks she is, but she'll realize that in her own time.” He lifted his hand to his mouth, rubbing his thumb over his lips. “Your house has been cleaned. There's not a trace of what happened, but there's going to be pain for both of you when you go back there. Is there anything you'd like me to do?”
Thane's head dropped back. “I've been giving it some thought. I think it's best if we live at Connie's place for now, if she's happy with that. I'll keep hold of my house in case we need to face some demons there, but when it's no longer needed, I'm going to sell it. I won't be able to walk into the living room knowing my woman was assaulted right there on the damn floor. Neither will she.”
“Okay. We'll get it locked up and secured. Just let me know if you need us to collect anything.” Atticus's gaze slid over to the door. “Speaking of us, I gave your suggestion some thought. I don't need an injured man running around on the streets, Thane. That shoulder will join your leg as the bane of your life, and pose a liability to the field team. But if you aren't ready to be retired at forty-six, I need someone who knows their way around data as accurately as he can use a firearm. How to source it, how to collect it and organize it into something the team can use. I need your investigative skills without the danger element.”
Thane lifted his eyebrow. “Glorified desk detective?”
“Tactical advisor,” the Master fired back. “Fuck, give it whatever title you want. The offer is there when this is all over and done. We can hash out the details at a later date, but I wanted you to know there's a place for you in the team if and when you want it.”
Another branch of acceptance, Thane thought with a smile. He held out his hand, shook Atticus's firmly. “I think we can come to some arrangement. God knows I'll be desperate to get out of the house after a few months of what's coming.”
“Oh yeah. Connie will drive you batshit crazy, which is why we don't want you to do this by yourself. The Masters have your back, Thane. Yours and Connie's. Lean on us when you need to.” Atticus cleared his throat. “Commander Stevens’ career is over. I can’t tell you too much more as they’ve shut down communication with anyone not involved in the military investigation, but he’s cooked.”
A lifelong career ripped to pieces by greed, Thane mused. He almost felt sorry for Stevens, for what the idiot had done to his own reputation and standing for the sake of dollar bills in his pocket. But of course, it was never just about money with the likes of the commander—it all came down to power and control, making the underlings jump through hoops for a taste of whatever high Stevens had been selling.
