I ran a hand over the spot and found the source of the breathing and the bleeding. I had a stab wound and perhaps a collapsed lung? I put my palm over it. Needed to maintain the integrity of the chest cavity, or I wouldn’t be able to breathe at all, soon.
Oh no, this wasn’t going to be the end. There was no way I was going to let myself die in the woods while Malokin and Luke walked off. With determination, I groped around in the dirt and twigs, feeling for my phone. If I could call for a door, the guards would get me help. It didn’t matter if they dropped me in the middle of the office, a bloody mess. I came up with nothing but branches.
No, I hadn’t gone through all this crap to end up bleeding out in the dirt. I tried to push myself up. My car was a mile away. I could get there. I’d lie here for a few minutes and then I’d drag my body there, inch-by-inch, if that’s what it took.
I heard a branch snap in the distance and then a rustle of leaves. Someone was approaching and quickly. Had someone been waiting for the guys’ return? If they came looking, they’d see the bodies and then find me. I hadn’t had the energy to hide them but left them in the middle of the clearing for all to see.
I tried to pull my legs in closer but that meant being able to use the muscles in my abdomen. It didn’t appear to be an option.
Dragging my body onto my stomach with my good arm, I made it a couple more inches into the brush and stopped. It was too noisy. I was better off lying still and hoping the dark shielded me.
A hand flipped me over. Before I could let out a scream—or attempt to, depending on how much air I could get into my lungs—I saw Fate looming over me.
“What happened?” His voice was cold, clinical. His hand lay over mine, where I was trying to keep the air from entering my chest cavity. “Never mind. Don’t talk. Just keep your hand there. Nod if you can do that?”
I nodded. Something about him being here, right now when I needed him, made me want to break down, but I didn’t. Even still, the relief was staggering.
“How did you know I was here?”
“Paddy.” His eyes met mine. “Stop talking.”
“I’m not in good shape,” I said, as it weren’t obvious.
“I thought I told you to stop talking. And you’re not going to die. I won’t let you.” There was no softness in his tone. It was more of an order, and it tripped a switch in my brain. Why did I feel like I remembered this? It was right there, a memory just out of reach. “You’ve said that before. When?”
“You really don’t listen well. Stop talking.”
I didn’t have the energy or breath in my lungs to argue.
One arm lifted my shoulders while his other went beneath my knees. I bit my cheek to stop myself from crying out.
“I know it hurts. Just hang in there.” His voice was soft against my ear.
He took off at a run with me in his arms. It hurt, but I didn’t say anything. I could see a set of doors looming in the distance and knew it wouldn’t be long.
He paused just before he went through, to speak to the guards. “Nothing. Not a word, or you’ll wish all you had were dings in your armor.”
It stunned me. I could get my head around him keeping me alive, but why was he protecting me, when he knew I was probably working with the very people he was seeking? It was a fleeting thought before we were moving and the pain drove it out.
“Will protect her.” Their voices rang out deeply, sending vibrations through me. It was the longest thing I’d ever heard them say.
We were through the doors and climbing the steps to his house the next minute.
“My condo.” Those two words were all the protest I was capable of at the moment. It shouldn’t have mattered, but I felt vulnerable already, and coming here seemed to magnify that feeling.
He ignored me as he walked into his house and into his bedroom. He laid me on his bed and started making calls. I lay there and wondered if I did survive this, was the cat so far out of the bag that I’d be the walking dead anyway? How far over the line could I go before someone would step in and say “enough?”
Paddy had sent Fate to get me. He knew what was happening, but how much? Would he try and kill me now? But why help me first?
No amount of pain could distract me from how bad this looked. Fate had seen the dead men. That was definite. He’d had to step over them when he carried me from the scene. Neither of them had been slated for death. If they had, the Universe would’ve been a little more helpful. As Fate, he’d know this. He knew when most people were going to die. The only salve to my conscience on that was they’d all been evil men, with sallow, ugly auras, but it was a blatant rationalization.
I turned to locate Fate and see how bad the condemnation in his eyes would be. He’d already disappeared out of the room. When he came back, he had scissors, plastic wrap, tape and gauze in his hand.
He placed the items on the bed next to me but wouldn’t look at my face. He started to cut my shirt open and panic ripped through me. If he couldn’t look at me now, what would happen when he really saw?
“No.” I grabbed his hand with my free one.
“Stop,” he said, pushing my hand away and finally looking at me. “I’ve got to bandage it.”
His face was closed off, not even the smallest sign of what he might be thinking.
He started cutting again. There would be no pretending after this. Not that he’d believed my lies before but having the proof written all over my flesh, which was about to tell its very ugly secrets, was worse.
I closed my eyes and waited as I heard the scissors work their way through what was left of my shirt. When the sides were laid open, and he said nothing, I thought it was safe. Maybe I didn’t look as bad as I thought. It wasn’t like I was looking at myself every day in the mirror. I’d taken to getting dressed and then assessing the exposed flesh for evidence. Maybe I didn’t look too bad?
I opened my eyes and looked down. Even from a limited vantage point, my entire torso was a mish mash of bruises in all different shades. There were healing cuts, with fresh scabs crisscrossing in some places, and newly formed scars in other spots.
Fate said nothing. The proof was clearly before him but still not a word or a look. If I’d been working in unison with the Universe, I never would’ve been injured like this. My past deeds screamed out their guilt in a rainbow of injuries.
He kept working, wrapping the wound that was affecting my breathing and disinfecting other areas. The only sign he was angry was his refusal to make eye contact with me again.
“You need to tend these wounds better. You aren’t immortal.” His voice had an edge in it that raised my own ire.
This was the condemnation I’d expected, finally leaking out. Who was he to cast judgment?
“You’re hardly innocent yourself. If you find this so objectionable, then you don’t need to help me.” I tried to push off the bed, but he pressed my shoulders back down.
He hovered over me, where I was pinned to the bed. “I’m mad because you’re in over your head and currently too stupid to realize it. How long do you think you can keep this up?” He stared at me, waiting.
As long as Kitty was alive, I couldn’t answer that question. “Why don’t you ask Paddy what’s going on?” I wasn’t sure if it was anger or desperation that spurred me to say it. It was probably a combination, as they were both overwhelming me lately. I never should’ve said a word though, not with all the ears listening.
Something shifted in his expression and he backed up. Perhaps he had asked Paddy already. What did he know? The worst thing about it was I couldn’t ask. If he told me, they’d know as well.
“Whoah, someone’s been busy.” Cutty was standing in the doorway. His eyes immediately took in my mostly exposed torso. He whistled low. “You aren’t looking so hot,” he continued. “Someone in this room hasn’t been playing by the rules. I say we all get one guess who that might be.” He cleared his throat loudly and jerked his head repeatedly toward me.