AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Like a man who’s been beaten and tortured for almost three weeks,” he answered, meeting my stare.
I didn’t like him, didn’t like how he seemed to have grown a pair of balls in our short but violent interactions.
“Apart from that,” I forced through clenched teeth.
“I checked his wounds. The ones I could see, anyway. There’s internal bleeding, a fair amount, if I’m honest. How much, I won’t know until I do an ultrasound…and this time I will do an ultrasound. The stub of his amputated thumb has been cleaned. I can offer the name of a brilliant plastic surgeon to assist with the scarring on that and the multiple lacerations the man has endured. But none of that will matter a damn if you don’t take care of the pressing issue.”
“Which is?” I didn’t have to ask. But something compelled me to hear it.
DeLuca stepped closer, gripped the edge of the desk, and leaned down. “He needs a fucking psych consult,” he growled. “And now. That man…that man is a goddamn danger to everyone else around him.”
Vivienne.
I shook my head.
“He’s barely holding on, London. Christ if I don’t understand how he isn’t psychologically destroyed after what they did to him. All it’s going to take is one wrong fucking move and there will be dire consequences.”
I met his stare. “Take a look around you, doctor. Our entire existence is living with ticking time bombs. You think my son is going to be any different?”
“But he is different. You know that.”
I shifted my gaze to the now quiet phone on my desk, knowing by now there’d be at least ten, twenty missed calls and messages. “Whatever my son needs, we will provide.”
DeLuca muttered under his breath. “Goddamn unbelievable. I should’ve fucking known.” He turned and headed for the door.
Still, I stared at the silent phone. This feeling in my gut was more than a hunch, more than goddamn denial. I didn’t care that they’d dragged what looked like Hale from the goddamn river. I knew it was a fucking lie.
“Wait,” I commanded, watching him stop in the doorway without turning. “I need you to do one more thing for me.”
He spun, glaring. “What the fuck is it now?”
“I need you to get me into the morgue…as fast as you can.”
TWENTY-SIX
Vivienne
He didn’t even look at me, just stood under the spray of the shower. I couldn’t stop staring at his massive hand braced on the wall…the one now missing a thumb. Burned, seared flesh was now a stump. The sight alone made me feel nauseous.
We must’ve been in here for an hour. In all that time, Colt hadn’t said a word. He just stood there, letting the hot water cascade down his strong back onto the cuts and bruises marring his body.
This will help with the pain, the doctor muttered as he pushed the needle into his flesh. But Colt never even noticed, just stared with that catatonic stare. One that still held him transfixed.
“Colt?” I whispered, taking a step closer. The spray hit my arm as I reached out to trail my fingers along his arm, drenching my shirt. But I didn’t care. My focus was only on him. “Maybe we should get you out of the shower, huh? You must be exhausted.”
All I saw was that filthy fucking kill room where they’d held him, the one stained with terror and blood. My hand shook and my fingers danced on his skin. The tremble seemed to wake him enough to lift his head. I reached past and hit the faucets, ending the spray.
“Let’s get you dried, okay?” I grabbed the towel, carefully brushing it over his arm before I dared to move closer.
His hard muscles quivered, making my pulse race. The last thing I needed was for him to lash out and hurt me. So I put my trust in his love. Because he loved me…deep down…under whoever this person standing in front of me was.
I brushed the towel across his shoulders, then moved to the other side. He didn’t move, just let me touch where I needed, wiping the water from his arms, then moved to his torso. A deep purple hue covered most of his stomach, bulging out at the side.
Internal bleeding. That’s what the doc had said. Although he was sure it wasn’t life threatening, not anymore, at least, as it would’ve already killed him. I didn’t need the doctor to say the words. I saw it all in the mangled marks in the shape of fists. I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat. I didn’t know how he’d survived. By DeLuca’s stare, he didn’t know either.
“I’ll get you into bed in just a minute,” I assured Colt as he shivered.
I ran the towel over the marks on his chest. The small punctures were the same everywhere, all over his chest and stomach, even on his back. I stared at the two-point marks as I gently dried his back. They were almost like bites. I scanned the rest of his body as I knelt to run the towel down his thighs and his legs.
