My feet froze to the floor. I knew the phone would ring eventually, but now that it had, I feared someone answering it. Burdock quickly moved over to it, and then grabbing the hand piece, he carried it to his ear, spitting, “Yes?”
As I watched, Burdock closed his eyes, then sagged onto the couch. “Yes, yes I heard you,” he murmured. A few more seconds passed, then he remarked, “I understand. Thank you.” Slowly he replaced the hand piece in its cradle, at the same time his shoulders dropped, and I felt my heart drop as well. Finally looking up, his eyes bloodshot, he breathed, “He made it, but he’s not out of the woods by a long shot.”
I withered like a balloon and thankfully Rook caught me before I hit the floor. Though it was wonderful news, I had nothing. I was mush.
Rook, holding me against him to keep my feet under me, muttered, “Food. No arguments!”
I didn’t even try.
ONE HOUR LATER
I sat beside Torin’s bed, my eyes glued to all the tubes and beeping machines. Torin had yet to regain consciousness, but the nurse had told me he would when his body was ready. Restless, I stood, and reaching out, I lightly ran my fingers across his cheek, feeling the bristles of his newly shorn beard. This was the first time I had been able to see the larger extent of the damage to his face, as the beard had hidden a large percentage, and bending, knowing he wouldn’t know of my actions, I placed my lips on the scar my fingers had traced, lightly kissing it. The disfigurement was warm and raised beneath my lips, but it didn’t bother me, and as a tear slipped from beneath one of the lowered lids of my eyes, I made to pull back. Gentle fingers reached around the back of my head, keeping me in place as he lightly wrapped them within my hair. For minutes he did nothing but just hold me against him as his fingers played with my hair, then withdrawing them, he allowed me to stand once again. Afterward, looking into my eyes, and voice still hoarse from surgery, he murmured, “Hi, princess.”
Wiping at the moisture on my cheek, I smiled softly down at him. “I ought to just kill you myself for putting us all through this you bastard!”
He gave me a smirk. “Be easy to do, I’m kind of pudding right now—got no strength.”
With a sniff, I wiped at another wayward tear, before murmuring, “How you feeling?”
“Sore as fuck and tired,” he returned groggily, his eyes half closed.
I nodded. “I bet.”
“How long I been here?” he questioned.
“You were brought in last night,” I answered. “So, about fourteen hours, now, I guess.”
He popped an eye open at that. “You been here the whole time?”
With a small shake of my head, I said, “Me and others, besides, where else would I be? You damn near died, Torin!”
Eyes closing with exhaustion, he murmured, “When I get out of here, we have a lot to talk about, but for now, I think I need to slee…" His words trailed off as he gave into exhaustion and the effect of pain medication. Stepping back over to his side, I ran my fingers through several long strands of his hair, before turning, I made my way out of the room.
TORIN
It had been several weeks since I was shot, and I was still sore as fuck—would be for awhile. This was not the first time I’d been shot, but I had never taken one in the shoulder. It was a bitch, and I was supposed to go back several days a week for rehab. I wasn’t going to. I had Doc—a military med—and he was all I needed. As I had been recovering in the hospital, I had a lot of time to think and I realized I didn’t like running from my shadows—but I was still living within them. I had hid a hell of a lot from everyone. It was too fucking dangerous not to; I could end up taking them all down with me; especially Marlowe. I’d heal if the backlash fell back onto the others: but not her. In the end, one truth stood out—this was a single man’s journey. I was going to have enemies coming after me from every fucking direction. I was done playing games. I was taking every bastard down who had ever done me wrong, but first, I had to make a little side trip. I was going after Dillon. The friendship he and I had, dissolved a long time ago, and I felt no loss over it, but I’d be damned if he’d take what was between me and him out on Marlowe—she had done nothing to deserve the threat he had leveled against her, except be the mother-fucker’s sister. Brother needed to learn some truths…then he’d meet his maker.
Laying my head back against my pillow, I closed my eyes as through my earbuds, I listened to Rag’n’Bone’s singing, *Anywhere Away From Here*. I felt every word.
MARLOWE
Why was it, I wondered, I spent most of my life in confusion and feeling unwanted? I’d never understood why it seemed my dad had hated me. I’d never understood why my own brother hadn’t loved me enough to give a shit if I died in a ditch somewhere after he’d kicked me out of the club. I hadn’t heard anything from him since that day. I’d tried once to go back to the SMOS compound, but I’d been refused entrance. Now, I sat under the tree I had adopted on the third night I’d been at the Raven’s compound, and contemplated my and Torin’s relationship. He’d been back from the hospital for several weeks now, but he hadn’t wanted to see me. I didn’t understand. All I knew was Satan had come home.