Faraday narrowed her eyes. “We don’t usually allow kin to bathe ICU patients, Mr. Fitzpatrick. Lisa is very good at her job, and I don’t want you to make her feel as though she isn’t.”
“That’s not my intention. I appreciate how busy hospital staff are and I’m not criticizing Lisa or any other nurse here.” He infused an edge into his voice. “I’m happy to help take care of Bodie however I can if it eases some pressure off the staff. I need something to do, you see. I’m not good at waiting.”
“Hmmm.” She regarded him suspiciously, then relaxed. “Lisa will explain what areas you can and can’t touch.” She checked her watch, then picked up Bodie’s chart and made a note among what seemed like a sheaf of information. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got another patient to see before I head back into surgery.”
“Of course. Doctor Faraday?” he said as she started out of the room.
She paused. “Yes?”
“Thank you. Sincerely.”
She inclined her head in a nod, then strode away to see whichever poor soul needed her now. Her shadow had barely cleared the doorway before Lisa was back, a steel bowl hand in one hand and a sponge and cloth in the other.
“Okay, then!” she said cheerfully, setting the bowl down on the table and handing him the sponge. “I know Bodie looks awful compared to how you usually see her, but there’s not much we can do right now. You’ll be okay to wash her face if you’re careful of this tube here.” Her finger touched the tube leading from Bodie’s nose. It followed the curve of her swollen cheek and looped over her ear. “This is her feeding tube so try not to disturb it.”
“Okay, I can do that.”
“Her hair...I’m afraid we won’t be able to get that clean for a while yet, but I can see if I can find a brush. You’ll be fine with her throat and her uninjured arm—just be mindful of her cannulas and the tubes.” She frowned lightly, studying Bodie carefully. “I think that might be all you’re able to do today. As we start removing different machines and pipes, you’ll find it a lot easier, but that’s going to be over the course of several days.”
He blew out a slow breath. “I should be able to manage that.”
Lisa beamed at him. “She’s a very lucky girl. Not all our patients have people willing to spend the time to make them feel better. Now, if you need more water or another dry cloth, you just press that buzzer.”
“Thank you.” Sponge in hand, he recalled Faraday’s words. “Lisa, your patients are fortunate to have you taking care of them when their families can’t.”
“It’s all part of my job,” she told him. “I happen to love my job.”
Yeah, he thought as she left him alone with Bodie, it shows.
“Right, little one, let’s see if we can’t make you feel a bit more human.”
Braun began with her face, dabbing the damp sponge over her forehead with light sweeps, painstakingly removing the grime and dried blood cluttering her skin. Leaning over her, he spent almost half an hour lovingly tending to her.
Once she was clean, the bruises were starker than ever.
When Lisa brought him clean water, he went back to work on her throat and neck. Ten minutes later, the water was dirty again but Bodie’s skin from her chest up was as spotless as he could make it without bundling her into a hot shower.
He was carefully washing each individual finger when they twitched in his. His eyes darted to her face, noting the signs of distress filtering slowly over her slack features. “Bodie, relax. It’s okay. You’re safe, little one. You’re in the hospital, but you’re safe, darlin’.”
Her fingers curled around his, their grip horribly weak, but his heart surged to life again with that simple gesture. “Take it slowly, darlin’. There’s no rush, take all the time you need.”
Cracked lips parted, a whimper all she could give him. It was enough. Braun slapped the buzzer once, twice, without knowing if hitting it more than once would do any good. He’d smash it if that got help here faster.
A sliver of drugged blue appeared from beneath her lashes, then vanished. Three times, she tried to open them before she succeeded. Heavy with pain and drugs, they struggled to focus, sliding around the room before meeting his. Something sparked in them, then her eyelids fluttered.
“Stay with me, darlin'. Just stay here with me. I want to see those beautiful eyes. Thought I’d lost you, Bodie. Scared twenty years off my life.” His thumb brushed over her knuckles. “You and me, we’re taking a freaking vacation when you’re better. Somewhere with white sand, plenty of sun, and a damn hammock we can spend all day rocking in.”
“More water already?” Lisa chirped as she rushed in, then her smile widened. “Oh, there she is. Not with us all the way yet, but certainly getting there. Let’s have a look at you before you drift off again.”
No, don’t let her drift away.
The nurse held her finger up in front of Bodie’s face. “Can you follow my fingers, sweetheart?” She moved her hand slowly from side to side, and Braun was relieved to see Bodie’s eyes track the movement. “Fabulous. That concussion will be gone in no time at all. Now, your man is taking excellent care of you, so you don’t need to worry about a thing. I’m going to give you a nice ride on painkillers and let you rest again, okay?”
Before the drugs took her away, Braun leaned forward and kissed the back of her hand. “I love you, Bodie. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Lisa pressed the button, and within moments, Bodie was back under the haze of morphine, her face relaxed once more. “She recognized you, that’s excellent. She’ll be in and out like this for a couple days. I think once she’s got some strength back, she’ll be a handful.”
Braun chuckled. “You don’t know the half of it.”
*
She’d lost four days.
Four days of alternating between floating in quiet darkness and hovering under the surface of consciousness, occasionally breaching the veil to prove she was still alive.
Bodie recognized her surroundings, her lover, but hadn’t had the strength to stay with him for longer than a few minutes at a time. Pain was her constant companion until the blessed button chased it away for a while. She loved that button. She’d marry the damn thing if she could.
The first time she stayed in reality for longer than five minutes, she managed to ask Braun what day it was. With difficulty—her face was horribly tight and swollen, making talking hard. Her lips were reluctant to form words.
Being awake tired her quickly, but over the next few days her periods of lucidness gradually increased, and with it her chances of recovering. Enough progress was made that the doctor who came to see her twice a day made the decision to transfer Bodie onto a different ward once her cannulas and nasal tube were removed.
While Bodie slept and her body continued the arduous journey of healing, Braun dealt with the fallout of her attack and tried to stack all the bricks in his life into an orderly pile. He didn’t tell her that, of course, he was remaining suspiciously close-mouthed about everything.
The doctor wasn’t being particularly forthcoming either.
All she knew was that Liam had taken Braun’s offer to run Avalon in his absence. Liam and Connie came every day to visit, as did Loki and Jasper. More often than not, Anarchy tagged along, hugging closer to the sadist than his own shadow.
Ten days after her mother and father almost ended the life they’d given her, Bodie was skillfully wheeled out of the ICU by two very nice porters and delivered to another floor, with Braun stalking behind them as though they might break into a run and kidnap her.
Not that anyone would want her like this.
Right now, she felt like a Mrs. Potato Head, only some vindictive child had plucked off her legs and an arm, leaving her with one remaining limb and a head. Just a useless, pain-riddled, drug-pumped blob.
As a new face fussed around her—a woman who introduced herself as Nurse Charlene—and Braun hovered over her like a hawk, Bodie held her hand out to him. “What ar
e you avoiding telling me?”
He’d aged so much in the last ten days. Lines creased his eyes, his mouth, where there hadn’t been lines before. Love burned brightly in the blue, more fiercely than ever, but he was tired. She couldn’t say she didn’t approve of the incredibly sexy covering of beard, though.
That he could keep.
“Avoiding?” He snorted, taking her hand. “Don’t be silly.”
Bodie found it easier to talk now. Some of the swelling had gone down, but her face throbbed all the damn time. The doctor said it was fractured, and that it would take some time to heal. As long as she didn’t do anything stupid like bash her face against something, she wouldn’t need surgery.
“There is so much you aren’t telling me,” she argued, wincing as the nurse accidentally jolted her right leg. She pointed at it with their joined hands. “Like that, for instance. Nobody will tell me anything, Braun. Like why my leg looks like it’s been in a car accident with a bear trap. How long does that thing have to stay on? How long before I can get out of this damn bed?”
“It’s been just over a week since you nearly died, Boadicea.” Braun levelled her with a strict glare. “You had major abdominal surgery, you have broken bones, and being impatient isn’t going to get you on your feet any sooner.”
She’d only seen her stomach once and it was enough to make her feel sick. The huge red incision bisecting her, the row of ugly metal staples holding it together...she’d been more vulnerable on that operating table than she ever wanted to feel. Hands had been inside her, touching things no person should be allowed to touch. “I just want to know what’s happening to me, Braun.”
The nurse coughed quietly, then slipped away to give them some privacy. Bodie was grateful; she was sure they were about to have an argument, and she wasn’t keen on having a witness to her temper.
Braun surrounded her hand with both of his big ones, infusing it with warmth. Yeah, he was tired. Even the set of his shoulders lacked his usual authoritative power. “Your recovery will take months, Bodie. Not a few days or weeks, but months. What’s happening to you is a cataclysmic, life-altering process, darlin’.”
Her breath seized. A thousand possibilities whirled through her head, her hand going limp in the cradle of his. As her eyes landed on her legs, one surrounded in a cast, the other in a jungle of metal, she blurted the first question that came to mind. “I-I’m going to walk again, aren’t I?”
“Yes. Absolutely yes.” His jaw clenched. “But you won’t dance, baby. I’m so sorry, Bodie.”
There was pressure on her skin as though he was squeezing her fingers, but she couldn’t feel him anymore. She was numb, and cold. Down to the roots of her being. His voice was nothing more than a buzz in her ears, drowned out by the suddenly erratic beat of her pulse.
You won’t dance... You won’t dance... You won’t dance...
Suddenly claustrophobic, pinned under the weight of her injuries, she couldn’t stand the sensation of being trapped. It was a lie, a cruel lie, and she’d prove them all wrong. Dancing was part of her, the biggest piece of her heart, and she was nothing without it.
Agony ripped through her, uncontrollable wildfire, when she kicked her legs. Metal jangled. Bones howled in silent protest. Icy sweat slicked her skin, making her shake. She was getting out of this fucking bed, out of this hell, if she had to crawl.
Braun towered over her, using his body to keep hers down as his hands pressed to her shoulders. “Little one, stay still. If you don’t calm down, they’ll sedate you, and I can’t take another week of being without you. Just take some deep breaths and calm down.”
Her stomach wailed as she tried to sit up. One flex of those muscles and she thought she’d throw up. How could one body contain so much pain and survive? At least when Abraham had gone to work on her with his fists and feet, she’d blacked out. In those moments beforehand, when she’d done some damage of her own to a man she’d hated for years, she’d been so hyped on adrenaline and fury she hadn’t felt much of what he’d done to her.
It wasn’t until Diane stomped on Bodie’s left leg with those fucking heavy biker boots and the bone cracked that the magnitude of her pain registered, slicing through the adrenaline effortlessly.
This...this was torture.
Bodie went limp, breathing too hard, too fast. Her teeth chattered as she tried to deal with the wreckage of her life, her stupid body. God help her, surely, she hadn’t been such a bad person—in this life or ones past—to deserve this?
Oh fuck, she was going to cry.
“Shush, little one. Don’t cry, it’ll hurt.” Braun’s face was taut and pale, worry written over every inch. “Shit, I can’t even pick you up and cuddle you. Don’t, Bodie. It’s going to be okay; I promise. One way or another, we’ll get you through this.”
“What am I supposed to do, Braun?” She pressed her hand between her breasts, just above the horrible incision. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know, Bodie,” he said gently, brushing his lips over her forehead. “Right now, that’s not my primary concern. Getting you strong enough to take you home is my only priority. We can assess our options once you’re back on your feet. That’s not gonna happen if you don’t listen to the doctors and trust them to do what’s best.”
With a sob, she threw her good arm around his neck. His hands moved off her shoulders, gripped the edge of the bed so he could lower himself down to her. She pressed her face into his neck, hissing as her cheek protested, then just held on.
“I should’ve listened to you.” She closed her eyes, feeling exhaustion tug at her. “If I’d listened to you, we wouldn’t even be here.”
“No, darlin’. We’re not thinking like that, now or ever. They were gunning for you, regardless. Alicia told the police everything. Your parents couldn’t get enough money out of you to make keeping you around worthwhile. If they hadn’t gotten you this time, there’d have been another.”
“I...Alicia?” she slurred the name drowsily, memories flitting over the darkness behind her closed eyes. Laughter and tears, shouting and recriminations.
“Go to sleep, little one. We’ll talk more when you’ve rested. I love you, Bodie.” The comforting presence of his body floated away, and she barely felt him set her arm down gently. “We’ll figure everything out.”
But she was already back in her safe place, where the pain couldn’t reach.
*
Things didn’t seem much brighter when she surfaced again.
The lights were dimmed, the blinds drawn tightly shut, and Braun wasn’t beside her. Her heart hitched at the thought she might have chased him away with her reaction to the news she wouldn’t dance again.
She whimpered pitifully, clawing at the sheet for the call button just out of reach. Her fingers brushed the edge of the plastic box, but she couldn’t quite get a hold on it. She stretched, her abdominal muscles weeping as they shifted.
“Shouldn’t be doing that,” a gruff voice chastised from the doorway.
Alarmed, her eyes shot to the door and the enormous man filling it. Light from the corridor behind the huge form turned him into a seething black shadow. He took a step forward, and the low light of the room caught his features.
Dressed all in black, Atticus looked more dangerous than ever. He wasn’t a man to be toyed with when he was like this, because he wasn’t the big gentle giant from Avalon she’d come to know. Dominant, yes, but this persona was another level. “Do you need something, little miss?”
Bodie shook her head slowly, unsure how to deal with this side of him.
“Mind if I pull up a chair? Braun won’t be long. Made him go clean up and change his clothes, get something to eat. Not gonna do you any good if he ends up in a bed next to you, is he?” Atticus pulled the chair around so it faced her, then dropped into it. His gaze studied her, his full mouth turning down at the corners to match his scowl. “Don’t guess they’ve told you a lot about what’s been going on while you’ve b
een doped up on morphine.”
Another head shake was all she could manage.
“Understandable. The world’s a lot different to how you left it, Bodie. Braun thinks you’ve got the balls to deal with it, and it happens I agree with him.” Atticus propped his boot on his knee, rubbed his finger over his lip. “Do you think you’ve got the balls to handle what I’ve got to tell you?”
Bodie swallowed. “Yes.”
“You sure? Braun will have my head if he comes back and you’re having a mental breakdown.” Green eyes locked on hers, assessing every emotion running through her head.
God knew what he read there because she couldn’t identify them.
“I can take it.” Her voice was quiet, thick. Sleep and nerves clogged her throat. “I’m not weak.”
“Known that for a long time, sweetheart. Understand the reasons why you feel you have to be strong all the time now I know the family you come from. Do you know it was your parents who did this?” He gestured to her broken form with a firm hand.
She nodded.
“Good. Braun mentioned you haven’t said anything about the attack, so I had to wonder. I don’t know if this will distress you or bring a sense of relief, Boadicea, but both your parents were killed the night of the attack.” His tone was gentle, but he offered no apology, no condolences. Maybe he knew she didn’t need them.
“H-How?” No, there was no distress. Not a single ounce of regret or grief for the people who raised her. But relief? Oh God, yes. Wave upon wave of it, sweeping her up. Years of anxiety fell away in a moment.
“What can you tell me about Alicia?”
“Alicia? She’s my sister. Four years younger than me. She was paralyzed from the waist down when she was ten. An accident.” One that was going to haunt her for the rest of her life, apparently. “I haven’t seen her in over ten years. She hates me as much as Abraham and Diane did, so there wasn’t any reason to stay in contact with her. Not that they’d have let me.”
Atticus nodded slowly. “Your parents abused her, Bodie. She’s been their punching bag for years. If anything went wrong with the illegal businesses they were running or they were just in a bad mood, she took the brunt of it. Alicia’s been talking to the police and she’s told them everything, including their plans to kill you. The only reason she’s still alive is the money the disability cheques brought in.”
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