I try to open my eyes but they don’t obey my commands. I try to open my mouth and demand answers but nothing comes out. It’s like my body has decided to play dead.
“The doctor says there are no internal injuries other than some bruising and a lot of old broken bones badly reset. Home job the best he can tell. I looked at the scans, Reid. It looked like she has had every rib in her body broken at one point. I would gladly kill that motherfucker if I got my hands on him.” Coop. I’ve never heard him sound so pissed. He’s usually the fun-loving one of the group. “Took ten stitches to close up her head, nothing too bad and should be fine. Her neck is swollen. Fucker must have had one hell of a firm grip on her. The biggest concern at this point is her concussion and assessing her vision after she wakes up.”
The warm hand holding mine flexes and tightens a few times during my grocery list of injuries review. Even with my eyes closed and my mind hazy, I can feel the energy in the room grow heavy. It feels alive, making the hairs on my arms and neck stand on end.
“He’s fucking dead, you hear me? I’ll kill that sick fuck myself.” Axel releases my hand and I feel it return, pushing the hair back behind my ear. “It guts me to know she lived like this for so many years. Knowing this wasn’t even close to the worst . . . slices me fucking deep.”
“I know, Reid.”
“Where’s Dee, Greg? Both—either. I don’t care.” He must have his head turned because it’s hard to make out his question. I’m shocked that Dee isn’t already by my side.
“Beck made her go get something to eat, said she wouldn’t stop pacing and was shaking something crazy. Last I saw Greg, he was about to pop some hemorrhoids he was holding it in so tight. You sure there isn’t more there? They seem pretty tight.”
“Just friends,” he says. “Doesn’t matter. He isn’t touching her.”
His hand returns to mine and he brings his lips down for one small kiss to my hand. So tender and unlike the Axel I’ve been dealing with for the last month.
“I feel you. I’m going to step out and see what Locke found.”
A few minutes pass. He has his forehead resting on my hip, his lips resting on our joined hands. I can feel his mouth moving, warm breath caressing my skin, but I can’t make out his whispered words.
“Izzy, please wake up. Please, please, Princess.” I don’t know what shocks me more, his gentle pleading or the single warm tear that hits my hand.
I don’t know how long we pass time just like that. A few of the others come and go asking Axel some questions, asking if he wants to leave and take a break. The cops come to see if I’ve woken up yet. Nurses come and check my IV bags and vitals. All the while, I am struggling to make my body listen, to wake up.
Dee is back in the room, and I think Beck and Greg are too. To my horror, they are discussing the abuse I lived. I can hear Dee explaining to Axel what happened that night she came to save me, telling him how long I was forced to stay in the hospital to heal and how much worse the injuries were then.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I hear Axel say when she tells him how many broken bones I had then. He starts to speak but stops short when I finally force a whisper past my lips.
“Dee . . .”
“Oh God,” she cries out before rushing over to my side. I crack open my left eye and take in her face. She’s a mess, mascara running down her cheeks, her eyes red rimmed and swollen. With just the sound of my voice, she is a blubbering fool. “Oh, Iz . . . I was so scared!”
“Okay, I’m . . . okay.”
I look around the room and notice that it isn’t just Dee, Beck, and Greg Axel was speaking to. Maddox and Coop are standing off to the side, faces set in stone. When I meet Axel’s eyes, they are bright and full of compassion.
“Hey, Princess.” That’s all it takes for me to join Dee in a fit of hysterical crying.
The nurses come in shortly after and start checking all the machines, poking around my body, changing the dressing on my head, and applying some ointment to my right eye. A doctor who looks like he is well past time for retirement comes in next and attempts to clear the room to discuss my injuries, but Axel puts his foot down again and refuses to budge. The fight would be futile, so I just shake my head and wait for the doctor to go over everything.
“Ms. West,” he begins, looking over at Axel with worry. He must assume that he is the reason for my injuries. “How are you feeling?”
Even though I know it’s going to hurt like a bitch, I can’t hold back the laugh that bubbles up.
“Like I was hit by a truck, thrown a few feet, then run over by a bus.”
“Well. This is no joking matter, Ms. West. I understand that you had an altercation late yesterday evening?” Did he just say yesterday?