Page 60 of My Damaged Protector

Please let it not be that there's any complication with her health, too.

18

SARAH

“There'sa complication with my blood which makes me ineligible to donate bone marrow for him.” That's the bullshit I told Peter and Lauren the moment I walked out of Amanda's office.

The doctor in charge of my father's case wasn't on duty, so she had to take over. To say I was happy about that huge development would be an understatement.

While I was tense, Mandy tried to calm me down, assuring me that I was in safe hands, which I believed.

She took me to a lab and got the tests done on me in under ten minutes. She told me that the first test to come back was the blood test, and when it came, the look on her face before she went over the results told me shit's about to hit the fan.

Safe to say I won't be able to donate bone marrow to my father or anyone for at least another couple of months.

The news rocked me, but I already know what I'm going to do with it.

When Ian and I get outside of the hospital, I look back to see if Peter and Lauren are still following us.

They aren't.

Thank God for that.

They were so upset when I told them I couldn't help our father live. I feel bad for them. I really do.

But what's happened is beyond me.

Ian leads me to his truck, and I smile at the sight of the thing again. It's beaten up as hell. I can almost swear it's the same one he was using years ago, but I can't say for sure. I don't always remember the details.

My mind goes to the joke he cracked last night about being a broke billionaire, and I wonder if he was indeed joking. It's not like him to joke about things that are important, though.

The loud sound of the truck’s engine soon fills the space between us and drags my attention to him. There's a questioning look on his face, and it kills me to not be able to tell him what the truth really is.

But I don't think he's ready for that right now. Hell, I’m not ready for it, either.

“I'm fine, Ian,” I say, at least to assure him.

“Just tell me that the problem was with him and not you so I can drive you safely to the hotel without going crazy with worry.”

“I'm fine.”

He groans, one of his big palms landing on the steering wheel. “That's not assuring, Sarah, at all. What happened in there?”

I can't tell him the truth. Not now.

“Please?” He presses on.

Sighing, I start to think of something to tell him just to keep him calm. Nothing is wrong with me. Not in the way he's thinking, anyway. Maybe I can tell him that.

“There's nothing wrong with me, okay? It's just some complications with our blood match.”

“You guys don't match?” he asks.

That's not what I said. Or maybe it is. I don't know. I'm not good at lying. But I can already see the wheels turning in his head. He's jumping to a conclusion already.

“Ian,” I say hoping to interrupt his line of thought.

“Sarah, are you saying he's not your father?”

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