Page 92 of The Keeper

“And my mom?” I forced my eyes open again, needing reassurance she was okay, too. Dane’s expression softened with a mix of exhaustion and understanding.

“She’s got a concussion, but last I heard, they’re going to discharge her later today.”

Some of the tension bled out of my shoulders at his words. I shifted restlessly and immediately regretted it when pain lanced through my side. “Seriously, what’s taking so long? I want to get out of here.”

My ultrasound and X-rays had come back clear, showing no internal bleeding or broken ribs. It seemed Derek’s hand had been slick with blood when he’d tried to stab me, causing his grip to slide down the handle.

I was covered in bruises, and a couple of slashes across my ribs required a handful of stitches to close, but it could have been so much worse.

“We can’t leave until they give us the results of your rabies test.”

“Rabies test?” My brows knitted together in confusion before I realized he was joking.

Knowing there was a chance I might have ingested some of Derek’s blood and wanting to err on the side of caution, the on-call doctor, Dr. Wallace, decided to run a full panel.

None of which involved rabies.

“You’re such a dick,” I said, my chuckle morphing into a hiss as the vibrations reverberated into the wound at my side. The pain was blinding. I took several deep breaths, squeezing my eyes shut until it let up.

When I opened my eyes again, I found Dane studying me with a look of concern. He’d taken up residence in the uncomfortable-looking chair beside my bed, his large frame dwarfing the small space.

Mindful of my IV line, I reached over and took his hand in mine, running my thumb over his bruised and bloodied knuckles. His skin was warm against mine, the calluses rough yet familiar. Grounding.

“What happened?” I asked quietly, taking advantage of the fact that we were alone, with no nurses hovering nearby. “How did you know to come back when you did?”

It was the question I’d been asking myself for hours, the one thing I couldn’t wrap my head around.

His expression darkened, and he hesitated before admitting, “It was Avery.”

“Avery,” I echoed with a slight headshake. “I don’t understand.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face, looking as if he’d aged a decade in the span of a few hours. “I stopped by the bakery on the way to get her a mid-morning snack. She was getting hangry…like her mama does.”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips before fading. “She was covered in frosting by the time she finished her cinnamon roll, so I took her to the bathroom to get her cleaned up. And she just... she started crying and clinging to me, burying her face against my neck.”

His nostrils flared, and I squeezed his hand tighter in silent support as he struggled to get the words out.

“I turned around, expecting to see someone behind us, but the hallway was empty. And then I realized...she was pointing to a picture on the wall. A picture of Derek.”

Icy dread slithered down my spine, my stomach turning at the thought of what Avery had endured, what she’d been too young to verbalize.

Dane’s voice was strained as he continued. “She just kept saying, ‘owie,’ and my gut told me to get home to you. I didn’t even think. I knew Carnage was in town, so I reached out and told him to meet me at the house. No questions asked.”

My stomach roiled, knowing the bloodbath we’d left behind. “Avery didn’t—she didn’t see anything, did she?”

He shook his head. “Absolutely not. Carnage’s Ol’ Lady, Harper, took her back to their hotel room.”

“Nothing screams romantic, kid-free weekend quite like babysitting a one-year-old,” I said, trying to inject some levity into the heavy moment.

His lips curved into a rueful half-smirk. “Probably not, but when I checked in a little while ago, Avery was happily trying on Harper’shigh heels and enjoying some room service chicken nuggets, so I think she’s got plenty to keep her entertained.”

Leave it to our daughter to find the silver lining in the midst of tragedy.

Dane glanced down at our joined hands, his throat working in a hard swallow. “I lied to you, Piper.”

I froze, steeling myself for the bomb he was about to drop. “What do you mean?”

“Lied is probably too strong a word,” he amended, pressing his fingers into his eyes. “But I omitted certain details about what we found in Isaac’s house.”

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