Twisted Together - Winters Pepper - Страница 95

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Franco towered over us, two injured warriors together. “I’ll call her, and I’ll do anything else that needs to be done—but you—you’re going to the hospital.”

Q opened his lips to argue but winced as Franco deliberately patted his sliced up legs beneath the blanket. “Hospital, Mercer. Then wedding. Don’t make me kick your ass.”

A tense moment existed before Q nodded. “I think that ass kicking can wait, don’t you?” His gaze fell to Franco’s missing thumb. A rosebud of blood decorated the bandage where his digit used to be. Q frowned, taking in the sling and Franco’s cane. “Thank you for coming.”

Franco shrugged. “Couldn’t be late to this party. Look how much fun you were having.”

I cringed at the morbid humour, but Q smiled. “The fun I could’ve done without—but I’m grateful to you, Franco.” His eyes fell on me. “And forever in your debt, Tess. You should never have had to do that on my behalf. I’m sorry.”

Sirens sliced the morning peace. A flashing ambulance pulled into the driveway, its lights visible through the windows. Kissing Q’s cheek, I whispered, “No apologises. I did what I needed to do.” I nuzzled his cheek. “Your chariot awaits, maitre. And your bride will be with you every step until she becomes your wife.”

Q’s body stiffened, fighting off a wave of pain. “And once you’re my wife—you intend to leave my side?”

My heart was no longer a heart—it became a beacon, beaming with brightness, lighting the way to my future. “When I’m your wife, our lives will become one. I won’t be by your side. I’ll be inside you. Forever.”

Q sucked in a breath, his eyes glowing with love. “In that case—get me to the hospital.”

You are my saviour

My forever

The hospital was a necessary evil.

As much as I wanted to leave Spain and never return, I had to endure needles, questions, and doctors.

Hours upon hours of tests, MRIs, and stitching up the slices on my legs frayed my patience, giving time the opportunity to turn my injuries into bone-deep aches. My head pounded from hanging upside down and everything inside was bruised—my kidneys, my stomach—even my spleen. My heart was also banged up, but surprisingly fine—despite the rigorous assault it’d endured. My spine was swollen from the baseball bat, but I had sensation in my legs. Thank fucking God. And the bullet hole was no longer a hole after surgery sewed me up.

The catalogue of injuries went on forever but after everything I’d endured the only broken part of me was a cracked rib. That and my heart. Tess had done something irreversible down there. I’d hung unconscious while she did something I would never be able to delete.

Twisting my head on the pillow, I looked at her.

She hadn’t moved from my side. She’d been there while the doctors numbed my legs and practiced fucking cross-stitch with my flesh. She’d held my hand while we waited for the results of my heart and blood pressure readings. She screamed at any doctor who tried to remove her from a procedure.

I fucking loved her. I couldn’t stop looking at her—knowing she’d killed for me. She’d willingly crossed that threshold where no human should have to go. She took a life in payment for mine. She truly was my perfect other.

Tess glowed, a smile spreading her lips. “Do you need anything? Something to eat? Water?”

I couldn’t stop the involuntary shudder at the mention of fucking water. Vile liquid. Killing liquid. I never wanted another sip or to see a bucket or towel again. That had been the worst part. I didn’t care about the baseball bat or even the cuts on my legs. It was the black wetness that turned my stomach.

It was the breathless horror whenever my mind relived the past. I’d died. I’d given up. And that made me fucking weak. While I’d given up, Tess had become my saviour.

It made me proud. It also made me furious. Hospital staff looked at me as if I were a fucking invalid—compounding the emotions I battled. How could I ever thank Tess for what she did? How could I ever live with myself for being so fucking stupid?

Police had arrived to take my statement and for once I could tell the truth—the whole truth and not fear any repercussions. They’d left us in peace after the main activities and needlepoint on my legs.

Finally, after what seemed like days, I’d finally been left alone in a private room. Finally able to breathe without disinfectant or antiseptic stinging my nostrils. The grogginess from the anaesthesia wore off, leaving me stiff and sore.

My nervous system had a hard time tabulating it all. One moment an ache flared in my chest, the next my lower back. But despite the flushes of agony, I felt fine. I felt whole. I felt content.

I survived.

Tess squeezed my hand, bringing my scattered thoughts back to her. “Q—would you like a drink?”

I smiled, soaking in her perfect face. “I would murder for a shot of whiskey.” My voice cracked and failed. According to the doctor, my throat suffered multiple lacerations from either screaming or trying to breathe H2O instead of oxygen.

The fucking bastard really hurt me. But I was alive, and he was not. All because I had people behind me. I had goodness on my side. I had my esclave. My fearless strong esclave.

“You’re not drinking.” Her forehead wrinkled. “Who knows what you’ll get up to if you have alcohol on top of the painkillers they’ve administered.”

I chuckled. “I can think of a few things.” I wanted to try out my cock—make sure it hadn’t died in sheer terror at the threat of being cut off. I didn’t know how close Lynx came to delivering his final threat. All I remembered was endless water torture, more cuts, more electricity, and welcoming darkness.

I’d been tired. So fucking tired.

Still was, actually, but now it was a sated tired. Satisfied with the knowledge I could sleep with Tess beside me, and we’d both be safe.

Tess blushed, love filling her face with a gentle fire. She carried an inner flame—a torch she’d been missing for so long. After everything I’d done, she was the one to bring back her light. She’d claimed her own destiny once again and in the same breath handed it over to me.

Her gift humbled me, layering my guilt for what the slave did the night before. Another woman’s lips had been around my cock. How could I ever tell her that? But how could I ever not? Would the secret fester until it turned me into a rotting cavity? Or would she understand I didn’t do it willingly? My body and soul were hers. Through and through.

You can’t tell her. Not yet.

Maybe one day I would—but not yet. Not until I’d sorted through the memories and dealt with them in my own way. Not until I’d talked to the girl and apologised.

Blair came into the private room where Franco, Tess, and I were awaiting the final results. I’d suffered countless x-rays to find out if the baseball bat had punctured any organs or caused internal bleeding.

“The plane is fuelled and ready to go, sir. The flight plan has been lodged and Suzette has been informed of an ETA of twelve hours.”

Blair smiled at Franco passed out on a bed. His snores sailed from the other side of the room. The doctors had reassessed him, given more painkillers, and changed his bandages. No sooner had they stopped prodding him, he’d passed out cold.

Sleep was a miracle cure, and I wanted some myself.

I need to sleep so I don’t look like a fucking corpse on my wedding day. I honestly didn’t know how I’d function after everything my body survived but I wasn’t waiting another day. Tess would be mine tomorrow. It would come true even if I had to say my vows in a wheelchair and not consummate for days.

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