But come on, the problems that were ahead were going to have to be solved by a lot more than just functioning HVAC systems.
Tiptoeing across to the bed Bitty’s mom had slept in, it seemed fitting to take the patchwork quilt off that mattress and carry it over to the little girl. With care, Mary added the layer without disturbing the sleep that was so very needed.
Then she stood over the child.
And thought back to her own past. After her cancer had made itself known, she could remember very clearly thinking that enough was enough. Her mother had died early and horribly, with much suffering. And then she herself had been diagnosed with leukemia and had to go through a very non-fun-filled year trying to beat the disease into remission. The whole lot of it had seemed so very unfair.
As if her mother’s hard time of it should have qualified Mary for a tragedy-exemption card.
Now, as she stared down at the girl, she was downright indignant.
Yes, she frickin’ knew that life was difficult. She’d learned that lesson very well. But at least she had gotten a childhood marked with all the traditionally good things you wanted to be able to look back on when you were old. Yes, her father had died early, too, but she and her mother had had Christmases and birthdays, graduations from kindergarten and elementary school and high school. They’d had turkey on Thanksgiving and new clothes every year and good nights of sleep where the only worry that might have kept someone up was whether a passing grade was going to happen or, in the case of her mom, if there was going to be enough money for two weeks of summer vacation at Lake George or just one.
Bitty had had absolutely none of that.
Neither she nor Annalye had ever spoken in specifics, but it wasn’t hard to extrapolate the kind of violence that they had both been subjected to. For godsake, Bitty had had to get a steel rod implanted in her leg.
And what had it all added up to?
The little girl here alone.
If destiny had had any conscience at all, Annalye wouldn’t have died.
But at least Safe Place had come into being in a nick of time. The idea that the resource wouldn’t have been available to Bitty when it was needed most?
It was enough to make Mary sick to her stomach.
Rhage woke up in a rush, sure as if an alarm had lit off next to his head. Jacking his torso off the hospital bed, he looked around in a panic.
Except then, as quick as the anxiety hit, it disappeared, the knowledge that Mary had gone to Safe Place calming him down sure as if she’d spoken the words in his ear. And he supposed she had. For a while now, they’d been using the beast as a kind of message board if Rhage was out like a light.
It worked—and you didn’t have to worry about having to find a pen.
He still missed her, though. Still worried about his own mental state. But that little girl …
Shifting his legs to the side, he blinked a number of times and yup, remained blind after the lid workout. Whatever. He felt otherwise strong and steady—physically that was—and as long as he took things slowly, he was going to make it into the shower just fine.
Twenty minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom buck-ass naked and smelling like a rose. Amazing what a little soap and shampoo could do for a guy. A good teeth brushing, too. Next stop? Food. After the beast came out and then he did his purging thing afterward, his guts felt not so much hungry as hollow—and the best thing he could do was put some low-fiber carbohydrates in there for processing.
Twelve French baguettes. Four sleeves of bagels. Seven pounds of pasta.
This type of thing.
Stepping out into the corridor, he wondered how long it was going to take to find his way to—
“Fucking finally—”
“Couldn’t you have put a towel on—”
“Fritz brought you clothes—”
“You’re back, motherfucker—”
All of his brothers were there, their scents and voices, their relieved laughter, their curses and jibes exactly what the doctor ordered. And as they embraced him and slapped his bare ass, he had to suck in the emotion.
He was already nakey. #plentyvulnerablethanks
God, in the midst of all the reeeeeunnnnited and it feeeeeeeeeels so gooooooood, it was impossible not to get hit with another load of shame for his selfishness and what he’d put Mary and all of his brothers through.
And then V’s voice was directly in front of him.
“You good?” the brother asked in his raspy voice. “Feeling back to normal?”
“Yeah. I’m back in working order except for my eyesight.” I’m sorry, too. And I’m scared. “You know, just a little tired—”
Whack!
The chin shot came out of nowhere, nailing him so hard, his head knocked back and nearly snapped off his spine.
“What the fuck!” Rhage blurted as he rubbed his jaw. “What—”
“That was for not fucking listening to me.”
Crack!
The second shot came from the opposite direction, which was a good thing—the swelling would be bilateral, so his face wouldn’t look as fucked up.
“And that is for going out early and fucking our strategy.”
As Rhage brought his brains to level for a second time, he held his jaw with both hands. ’Cuz there was a possibility the lower half of his skull was going to fall off.
The good news was that the double shots cleared his vision a little, the blindness receding enough so that he could make out the hazy blotches of his brothers’ bodies and clothes.
“We coulda justh talked thith out,” Rhage bitched. “Great, I’m talkin’ wif a lispth.”
“Where’s the fun in that, true?” V grabbed hold of him and hugged him hard. “Now don’t ever fucking do that again.”
Rhage waited for the others to start asking questions. When no one did, he had to guess that V had already told them about the vision thing. Unless … well, everybody had seen him run out into that field early and that kind of shit was grounds for a beat down.
“I can thee now,” he said.
“You can thank me for that later.”
There was a bunch of conversation at that point—which led him to ohhhh-snapping the fact that they had Xcor in custody.
“Tohr kill the fucker yet?” he asked.
“No,” came from all fronts.
Then there was a story about the Omega showing up and doing a Mr. Clean at the campus, and V saving the day with some mhis action.
“I’ll take a thift,” Rhage said. “Guarding the bastard, that ith.”
“Later.” V exhaled some Turkish smoke. “All cylinders first. Then we’ll place you.”
On that note, the group dispersed, some heading up to the mansion, others hitting the workout room. Rhage went along with the ones who took the tunnel to the main house, but as his brothers went for their beds, he walked through the dining room and into the mansion’s kitchen.
God, he wished Mary was with him.
The good news was that there were no doggen around, First Meal having not been served thanks to the number of injuries that had been sustained during the attack and all the drama with him. The household staff were no doubt having a rare and well-deserved rest before they resumed their cleaning and tending, and he was relieved not to be fussed over.
As he wandered around Fritz’s sacred space, however, he did feel like he should put out an offering or something so he didn’t get in trouble with the butler. And on that note, he decided no cooking. He was going to take whatever was readily available and not start thinking independently with the stove or the pantry.
He’d already been punched twice and the night was young.