I needed to focus on something less traumatizing, but only bad news kept coming. I’d been wondering what had been going on while I was stuck in here all along, but so far I’d been kept in the dark. That did little to stop me from assuming the Rousseaus had been up to something this entire time.
My suspicions regarding their secrets intensified even more after last night. I’d heard the howls and gunshots and I was pretty sure everyone else did too. Police were called in and an investigation ensued, but I had no doubt in my mind that they found absolutely nothing.
Josephine had mentioned Marquis had brought in a couple of cleanup specialists.
Honestly, I had no idea what she meant by that, and I don’t think I want to know. I’m sure I’d have plenty of questions and things to talk about once Kyran, Alexis, and Simone came over to pick me up. I was looking forward to leaving the hospital.
The conversation that was sure to follow, however, not so much.
It’d been a week since the incident with Santos, and the memories were still frightfully present in my mind. But for most of the past week, I’d tried to concentrate on recovering physically. Every time I shut my eyes though, the image of that dark haired devil assailed me. He might be dead, but he surely wasn’t forgotten. Not yet anyway. And knowing that he wasn’t the worst that was headed my way made me wish I could crawl under a boulder and hide for the rest of my life.
In spite of all the weird dreams and the memory of Santos, my recovery was swift. With the injuries I sustained it should have taken me a minimum of three weeks to recover. Yet, only a week later my recovery came short of a miracle really. The speed of my recovery dumbfounded the doctors and they attempted to figure out a possible explanation.
So far, their guess was as good as mine.
As surprising as my recovery was, I didn’t stop to ask myself what phenomenon I was blessed with and instead, accepted it and moved on. Not thinking to look back and analyze this mysterious abnormality as much as other people probably would’ve, I simply dismissed any lingering doubts and paid no more attention to it than necessary.
I mean, what was the point of overthinking things? My injuries were nearly healed and there were other more important things to take into consideration.
There was one health issue still plaguing me though. My shattered kneecap was not healing properly, which was a nuisance considering everything else was all but healed already. Because of this, I needed a leg brace to help support myself. But after my near death experience, that wasn’t the worst of my problems so using it was an irritation I could manage every day if need be. My ribs were still sore, the gash on the side of my head left behind a visible scar, and I had a noticeable limp when I walked, but all of that hardly mattered when considering the hell I went through not too long ago.
Plus, I was still alive, so complaining seemed like an ungrateful thing to do.
Since the incident, the Rousseaus had been my continuous companions, and I was grateful for that, but I couldn’t help but worry about Kyran too. So far, he seemed to have no trouble dealing with his bloodlust, but I understood that it was only a matter of time before it reared its ugly head, which would force him away from me again. I still carried the hope that things would change and soon. Even after Alexis insisted Kyran’s condition was incurable, I still carried hope within my heart.
Hope was the one thing I couldn’t afford to lose.
During my short stay at the hospital, I had other occasional visitors as well. Tracy, Rosa, Miguel, Bobby, and Claire but the Rousseaus were the ones who were often by my bedside. Being that I hated hospitals, the frequent visits from my new family and close friends were always welcomed. It was a distraction I so desperately needed.
The only ones left to visit were my parents who were still at my stepmother’s sister’s house. Facing my father wasn’t something I was looking forward to, especially after the conversation we had over the phone the morning following the attack.
After his initial worry over my condition, he was angry that I’d gotten seriously hurt, again. Luckily for me, the Rousseaus came up with a very diverse excuse for my injuries, which served to convince him that it was just another accident if nothing else. They actually explained to him that I was injured after my ATV went down a hill during a race in the wooded area behind their house. It was difficult for him to understand why we would race ATV’s so close to dusk, but what other excuse were we going to come up with? We couldn’t exactly say that I was injured when a pack of man-eating werewolves tried to force me to be their leader’s mate.
As expected, my worrisome father hated the fact that I was hurt in the first place but eventually felt better in knowing that my recovery was swift and that the Rousseaus were taking good care of me.
What perhaps helped matters was the fact that Marquis insisted on paying for the hospital bill, claiming the incident happened while I was on their property, so it should be their responsibility to pay for the sure-to-be costly bill. My father wasn’t easily swayed however, forcing Marquis to insist more times than necessary before Dad reluctantly accepted the generous offer.
Overall, my life was quickly going back on track. Exactly where that track was going was questionable at best. There were still a lot of issues to resolve, but I knew well that there were certain things one cannot push. It was a waiting game from this day forward. Whatever was coming would come in due time and all I needed to do was sit and wait.
Not that that made me feel any better. Truth be told, I was scared shitless of my future. Of what was preordained by destiny. Or whoever was in charge up above.
I reached for the leg brace lying on a side table nearby and put it on, securing each strap carefully before forcing my legs over the side of the bed and my body into a standing position. Putting weight on my foot always aggravated my knee. It tended to throb and sting and ache, but I had to get used to walking sooner or later. It wasn’t comfortable and I would have liked nothing more than to sit and not put pressure on my leg at all but at some point, I had to stop acting like a total coward.
Besides, the doctor assured me that with some physical therapy it would get better eventually.
Eventually sounded like a long time to me. Like an eternity really. Being pursued by a nameless alpha werewolf while being temporarily crippled had to be the worst possible scenario. I couldn’t get away even when I was physically able. How was I expected to run away from danger if I could barely walk?
I pushed all concerning thoughts aside, picked up the makeup bag resting on the side table where the leg brace had spent the night, and decided to get ready before the Rousseaus showed up.
Limping all the way to the bathroom, I entered and went through my morning grooming ritual followed by the act of styling my hair into a ponytail and applying some makeup so that I could put some color back on my face. One look in the mirror, and I realized I resembled a corpse, pale and with dark circles under my eyes. I’d lost quite a bit of weight too. My fairly loose pajama bottoms testified to that.
I attributed all physical changes to stress. Like it or not, I was constantly on edge, waiting for the next big thing to hit me, literally. The idea of being overpowered by another scary werewolf played havoc on my mind. As a result, I barely ate, couldn’t help but be a nervous wreck each time someone knocked on the room’s door, and the nightmares...those were the worst.
Santos. His scary face. His lecherous grin. I’d never forget those as long as I lived.
After shoving my mascara, lip-gloss, and eyeliner back into my makeup bag, I turned and limped all the way back into the room. I hated myself for refusing to forget that crazy bastard, but it had only been a week since the attack. There was no way for me to put it aside and forget it so soon. Especially with so many physical reminders of his brief, but near-deadly passing through my life.
I limped to the small, purple suitcase Josephine had brought over from my bedroom the morning after I was admitted to the hospital, and started folding each item of clothing
inside, making sure every personal item fit well so that I had room for my makeup bag. I had wanted to wear a nice outfit, something cute and sassy, but with the leg brace and my mood, I just didn’t care if I had to leave in my pajamas.
I felt as tired as I looked so keeping up with my once beauty standards went to the very back of my mind. My plans now consisted of wearing a sweatshirt over my pajama top and calling it a day. The whole comfort look was the best I could pull right now.
I’d just taken the sweatshirt out of the suitcase when a knock on the door announced someone’s arrival. I called out for whoever was in the hallway to come in, fully expecting it to be my good doctor, but was delightfully surprised when Kyran opened the door and poked his handsome face through.
“Can I come in?” he asked.
“Always,” I replied with a wicked grin. My mood improved with just one good look at him. All I needed was to see him, and the ugly thoughts, the horrific memories, and the doubts vanished.
He pushed the door open all the way and came toward me. All thoughts of fear vanished the second he appeared, but one good look at him, and I was instantly reassured that something was wrong. His expression was almost forlorn. He didn’t appear the least bit happy.
The night before, he had been acting odd too. He’d avoided making eye contact with me. He wouldn’t say anything other than what he thought I needed to hear in order to feel calmed. I didn’t care what Josephine tried to feed me the night before, I knew something had happened in the woods. Something bad.
“Kyran—”
The second I was within reach, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me, putting a definite halt to the question I was about to ask. The quickness of his movements caught me off guard, but I welcomed the feel of his lips against mine nonetheless.
He held me to him, his hands caressed my back gently, slowly, with determination—as if he hoped to remember every inch of me. This, too, caught me off guard. He wasn’t one to normally venture into too much physical affection because of his bloodlust, but he was hardly holding back now.
I shouldn’t give it too much thought, but this wasn’t normal, gloomy Kyran behavior. This almost felt like a desperate attempt at communicating something he wouldn’t or couldn’t say out loud. The possibilities scared me. What was really going on?
“Are we interrupting something?” Simone asked as she opened the door and stepped in.
Kyran and I broke apart right away, putting some much-needed distance between us.
“Ah, no. Not really. We were just—” I stopped because I was about to start rambling like an idiot. I still wasn’t very comfortable with engaging in significant displays of affection while the rest of the family watched. “Hi.”
“I spoke to your doctor early this morning and arranged for him to get all the necessary discharge papers ready for you. He should be here soon.” She sauntered into the room. Alexis followed her in.
Neither Simone nor Alexis seemed particularly in a good mood either. To see Kyran in his normally morose kind of mood was common, but to see Alexis so straight-faced was definitely throwing me in a loop.
What was going on that I didn’t know about? Did I even want to know?
I avoided further awkwardness among all of us by turning my back to the Rousseaus and reaching for my suitcase. Kyran beat me to the punch and bent over at the waist to pick it up for me. He placed it neatly on the foot of the bed before turning to sit on a stuffed chair next to the side table.
“Thank you,” I said. I quickly organized my suitcase, making sure that both my cellphone and charger were on the very top for easy access later on. Once I was satisfied that everything was in order, I zipped it up and straightened to pull my baby blue sweatshirt over my head.
“Anxious to get home?” Alexis asked behind me.
I turned to look at him. “Wouldn’t you be?”
“Not such a fun place to be, is it?”
“Not unless you enjoy all the pampering,” I retorted, earning a smile from him. Though not one of his usual sweet and mischievous smiles, it definitely helped to reassure me somewhat.
“I won’t miss much of this place either,” he replied.
“Hopefully I won’t have to come back, ever.”
“Let’s hope not.” Kyran’s intimidating voice broke the lightness of the conversation. I knew he had no tolerance for what brought me to the hospital in the first place, and he hated talking about it because they evoked a murderous desire to destroy Santos all over again, but I sensed this hostility went beyond me being hurt.
“Not if we can help it anyway,” Alexis added solemnly, his brow dipping slightly.
I limped over to the bed and sat on the edge of the hard mattress. “We can’t be sure of what’s going to happen tomorrow though,” I blurted, immediately regretting my words because Kyran tensed next to me.
“Nothing will happen. If we can put a stop to it before it does,” Kyran added.
“Let’s leave all this talk behind for now,” Simone chipped in to lighten the quickly darkening mood in the room. “Now, does your father know you’re coming home today?”
“Yes. I spoke to him last night.”
“Any idea on when they’re coming back?”
“No. He said at least another two or three days. It all depends on how Sandra’s health is,” I explained. “Why?”
Simone and Kyran exchanged brief but suspicious looks. I didn’t like whatever secrecy they were transmitting to each other. I couldn’t exactly delve into their minds, but I was left to wonder what really was going on.
“Marquis and I were thinking that perhaps it might be better for you to stay with us until your parents return. We don’t want to leave you alone. Especially after what happened.”
“Kyran mentioned something about it last night,” I said, keeping my gaze on Kyran as I added, “Does this mean we’re going to have that conversation soon?”
Simone nodded. “During breakfast. The sooner the better.”
For whom, I wondered. “Great.” I was feeling anything but enthusiastic. “I—”
A sudden knock on the door interrupted my next question. Dr. Philips, a physician I was familiar with since he had been the on-call ER doctor when the girls and I suffered the accident a year back, opened the door and stepped in.
“May I?” Dr. Phillips smiled, reaching up to move his glasses up his nose. “Good morning, Marjorie,” he greeted as he strolled over to the bed. “Rousseaus.”
“Good morning,” Simone replied with a smile.
“I understand you wish to go home today.” Dr. Phillips looked around the room and smiled when he spotted my suitcase all packed up. “Ready to go home I see.”
My mouth curved up at the ends. “Yes. I’d like to resume my life as much as possible. I have missing classes, and a sick family member I need to really get to.”
“That’s understandable. Normally, I would advise against an early release, but when taking into consideration how well you have recovered, I really don’t see any reason to keep you for an extra week. All the tests we ran on you, including the x-rays, show a significant improvement.”
“I feel better,” I admitted.
“Let me have one last look at you and then I’ll hand over the discharge papers for you to sign as well as some simple instructions.”
“We’ll bring the car around.” Alexis and Kyran headed for the door, exiting a moment later.
Chapter Two
Simone decided to keep me company while the doctor inspected my slightly bruised ribcage, the gash on the side of my head, and my sore kneecap.
“Well, I have to admit Marjorie, you’ve always puzzled me.” His statement caught me off guard.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“In all my years of practicing medicine, I’ve never encountered a person who has such a rapid capacity for healing.”
Simone turned to look at me, her eyes wide with an emotion I couldn’t read.
“The only thing left to he
al is your knee, which is doing quite well, considering,” he said as he handed me the discharge papers. “Leave the leg brace on at all times except for bathing and sleeping.”
“How long do I have to keep wearing it?”
“Normally, I would say at least two more weeks but considering that you’ve nearly healed.” He wrinkled his nose a bit before adding, “Maybe a week or so. We’ll be able to provide a more accurate timeframe on Friday after your reevaluation.”
“One more week. I can live with that.”
“Just make sure to get plenty of rest. Use your crutches if you need to, and don’t miss our appointment on Friday afternoon. I want to check on your progress and make sure you’re healing nicely.”
“I won’t,” I said.
“Also, keep up with your physical therapy sessions. They’ll help you get back in shape sooner,” he added. He then handed me a pen he took out of his coat pocket. “As soon as you sign this, you’re all set to go.”
I wasted no time in signing the papers and handing them back to him. Dr. Phillips had the nurse make a copy for me while I waited for Alexis and Kyran to bring the car around to the front entrance.
As I waited for the twins to text us, I watched a very edgy looking Simone pacing the hospital room, anxiety was written all over her pale face.
“Simone?”
She stopped abruptly, glancing over at me with nervous eyes. “Yes?”
“What is it? Is there something I should know?” She was seriously freaking me out. I knew that we were about to discuss something and having her pacing around the room like a possessed woman was making me want to run all the way home instead of going to the Rousseaus.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
She was doing a lousy job at convincing me everything was in working order. Nothing was okay. I wasn’t okay. They were definitely not okay either.
So much going on. So little time.
The words came loud and clear. Although Simone’s lips had not moved, I heard her clearly and without restraints.
Dark Side of the Moon Page 2