Страница 65 из 154
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
FOR THREE DAYS, I did my best never to leave Kas’s side.
That first night, they performed the same tests on us—X-rays on our lungs and general checkup on superficial burns we’d endured from fighting the fire. We were given a course of antibiotics just in case the smoke inhalation turned into a respiratory infection.
The doctor who treated us kept his true thoughts to himself, but I saw his gaze lingering on Kas’s scars, on the many, many mementos of a life trapped in abusive servitude. Kas had been unwilling for most of the tests, only undressing if I helped, refusing to let them inspect his still-healing arm, vibrating with fear and fury whenever the hospital staff came near.
His eyes never left the doctor and his assistant, flinching if they moved too fast, muscles bunching if they came too close. The aura of possessiveness and violence pouring off him put the doctor on edge. Ensuring his interest in Kas’s injuries—both recent and old—turned sharp with suspicion as he noticed the fading bruises around my own neck. He didn’t ask questions on how I’d earned such a necklace, but I saw where his mind had gone.
He saw the tension Kas gave off.
He put two and two together and probably came up with ninety-nine.
I wanted to assure him that whatever had happened between Kas and me was done and forgiven. I didn’t want the doctor ru
But I couldn’t voice those concerns with Kas in the room. I couldn’t give him yet another thing to worry about. He was already borderline snapping. I didn’t know how much more he could handle, highly aware that if he didn’t rest soon, all his goodness might once again be drowned out by the horrors in his past.
That first night, it took a long few hours before we were cleared of immediate medical concerns. The doctor mentioned a specialist appointment in the morning for Kas’s concussion, and his gaze once again paused on me as if wanting to bring up my finger-sized bruises. But then he’d been called into the ER, and thankfully, we’d been escorted back to our private room—courtesy of my ability to afford such a luxury—and told to get some sleep.
The moment the door shut and it was just us, Kas let out a bone-deep sigh, swaying on his feet with exhaustion.
I tugged his hand and guided him into the bathroom.
We needed to sleep, but first...I wanted to rinse away the pungent smell of smoke and everything that’d happened.
I’d undressed Kas gently, doing my best to bring peace to his chaotic mind. As we stepped into the shower together, the heavenly euphoria of hot water made me groan.
Kas pressed me against the wall and kissed me hard and deep, wedging our naked bodies together, slipping inside me with no other foreplay apart from the overwhelming co
We broke all hospital protocol as we rocked and thrust, drowning beneath hot rain, finding a release that was sharp and slicing. Placing me on my feet and withdrawing after the final pulse of his orgasm, Kas had reverently washed me—just like he had before Jareth set Fables ablaze.
I washed him back, rinsing away soot and ash, baptizing him back into society after being stolen for so long. I’d grown so used to his shaggy scruff and knotty, wild locks that I no longer saw a valley monster with no ma
But, as Kas turned off the shower, dried himself with a bleached white towel, and tossed his hair over his shoulders, I saw how others would see him.
His silvery scars. His tortured eyes.
His long hair and powerful, lean body.
He was a man who’d stepped out of the jungle but still carried it in his heart.
He didn’t look safe.
He looked dangerous and unpredictable, and I hoped upon hope that he wouldn’t have any blackouts while being treated. If he hurt anyone or lashed out against medical staff, the chances of him coming home with me were slim.
He’d be admitted to a psychiatric facility.
They’d keep him until his mind was deemed “fixed.”
They’d ruin him even further.
That night, after sharing a meal of hospital-prepared potato salad, meatloaf, and raspberry Jell-O, we fell asleep in the same room for the first time. Eating food with flavor—even if it was bland hospital fare—ensured both of us couldn’t keep our eyes open.
It was such a novelty to have a belly full of warm, hearty food. And judging by how quickly Kas passed out, reclined in a black pleather chair with his legs propped up on a stool, his body had accepted food he hadn’t had to hunt or gather and finally shut down to heal.
I watched him for as long as I could, comfy and safe in the single bed he’d gallantly given me. A part of me worried he’d wake in the night and his mind would be somewhere else entirely. He’d forget how he came to be here and hurt himself or me. Those fears kept me awake even as my eyelashes drooped. Each time the squeak of sneakers sounded in the corridor or a nurse popped her head in to check on us, I worried that Kas would wake and snap.
But he slept soundly.
No thrashing, no mumbling, just a dead weight in the corner with his arms crossed over his chest and his handsome face slack with exhaustion.
And I’d slept too.
The next day was similar to the first.
We ate breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast together—Kas moaning with every buttery mouthful—before indulging in yet another hot shower. After, we were once again poked and prodded with tests, questions, and had our blood drawn. Kas finally let them examine his arm, submitting to yet another X-ray. The bone hadn’t been too badly broken after all, and the minor fracture had already healed enough not to require further casts.
I wondered if Kas would also mention the backyard vasectomy he’d undergone as a young boy. Or if he’d ever be open enough to give the true story of what his body had endured.
I couldn’t voice the absolute obscenities that’d been done to him, but his scars spoke for themselves, ensuring the doctors were extra diligent in their tests.
The results came back in the afternoon, revealing Kas was (like I suspected) deficient in key minerals and vitamins.
The doctor, whose name was Ke
That night, Kas didn’t sleep as well as the first night, but he didn’t have a nightmare or give the nurses any reason to restrain him, either.
I stayed jumpy for any sign that he wasn’t coping, and the strain of being highly aware of him slowly took a toll on my nerves. I’d been on my guard ever since arriving in a public place with him. And I stipulated I’d stay close by for the safety of others’ as well as mine.
I knew how Kas would come across to people.
They’d judge him for being overbearing, dominating, and swift to anger. I caught them looking at me occasionally, their thoughts obvious, but no one said anything while they nursed him back to health. As long as he didn’t come across as too threatening, then they had no reason to stop him from going home with me once we were cleared.
On the third morning, the concussion specialist finally called Kas up for an appointment. He apologized for the delay and waited for both of us to follow him to his office, but Kas caught my eyes and shook his head.
Kas hadn’t admitted it, but I’d guessed the truth of why he wanted to attend the consultation on his own. He’d accepted that his vertigo and headaches were part of his concussion, but I knew they scared him—yet another thing that took away his control.
So, I let him go.
I trusted he’d be able to keep his mind in the present, and we were separated for the first time since leaving the valley.
It made me grateful that he was calm enough to visit with the doctor without me. I’d been prepared to be his crutch for however long he needed me, but watching him march down the corridor next to a complete stranger, his back ramrod straight and hands balled, squeezed my heart.
Maybe Jareth had been right.
Perhaps, by burning Fables and removing Kas from the boneyard the valley had become, his mind was already more stable, more removed from the past and ready to step forward into a future where he could finally be happy.
God, I hope so.
As he left in the escort of Dr. Jones, Kentucky’s concussion expert, I headed toward the nurses’ station to use their phone.
I didn’t know if they’d called my mother or brother yet, but getting in touch with them was well overdue. A female doctor with graying blond hair and a kind smile stopped me in the middle of the lemon-painted corridor. “Ah, Ms. Ashford. I was just coming to visit you.”
“Oh?” My eyebrows rose. The whiff of smoke still swirled around me, even after a couple of showers. My clothes needed to be washed—even the spare set I had in my backpack reeked of smoke.
“Yes, do you mind?” She opened her arm, indicating I should return to the room I’d just walked out of.
Impatience filled me, but I nodded and backtracked. “Is everything okay?” Kas had only just left. Surely, he hadn’t hurt someone this quick without me by his side.
She stepped into our private room, closing the door. My hackles rose a little, but I forced myself to stay smiling as I sat down in one of the three chairs provided.
The doctor copied me, sitting down and brushing away a lock of silver-blond hair. With another kind smile, she said, “I’m Dr. Mary Cha
I tensed.
I’d been expecting a visit like this. I’d known Dr. Wright knew what the bruises on my neck meant. I just hadn’t expected it to come the second Kas was taken for an appointment—ensuring he wouldn’t be around, leaving me to spill the truth.
What did she expect? That I was some browbeaten woman in a Stockholm situation?
Give me some credit.
Staying calm, appreciating her role in helping women who needed support, I asked, “And you think I’m one of those?” Keeping my shoulders relaxed, I didn’t give in to my initial reaction to assure her, loudly and abruptly, that Kas was the abused one and I was the strong one in this scenario. She was only looking out for me. I was grateful women in awful situations had her.
Dr. Mary cleared her throat as she settled into the chair. “I hear your boyfriend...” She glanced at the paperwork in her hands. “Kassen Sands has had a tough upbringing.”
“It wasn’t exactly an upbringing.”
“No, it doesn’t sound like it was.” She gave me a guilty smile. “Wrong words to use. From the notes Dr. Wright mentioned, Kas was kidnapped and abused over the course of many years, correct?”