Page 96 of Patching Over

I hurriedly stand, eager to get my eyes on her then ask, “Is someone bringing a cage in case she’s hurt?”

“Yeah.”

“Then lead the way, Brother.”

CHAPTER

FOURTEEN

Rory

“Well, this is a fine kettle of fish you’ve got yourself into,” I rasp out. While Patrick ranted and raved about all the money I cost him, thanks to my ‘worthless grandfather’ stealing his shit, I managed to get my gun out of my holster, then shoot him.

The downside is, I was at an awkward angle, so I didn’t hit him where I wanted, which was between the eyes. The upside is, he’s now writhing on the disgusting, dirty floor of the house, and I’m currently outside trying to figure out what to do.

Normally, I’d hop in the van and drive myself to safety, then figure out how to get in touch with Banshee. However, I can barely walk thanks to the many kicks and blows my body sustained. I’m pretty sure my ribs are definitely broken this time seeing as each breath feels as though fire is coursing through me. One eye is completely swollen shut and the other is almost in the same condition, thanks to the slaps and punches I took.

“Well, you can’t crawl your way to freedom, Rory, so you better figure something out,” I mutter. “Because you don’t have your phone, so you can’t call for help. Plus, you don’t knowwhere the hell you’re at, so even if you did have it, you wouldn’t be able to tell them how to find you.”

I suspect I’m off the beaten path, which likely has more to do with the dirt driveway and overgrown, unused look about the place than any real knowledge. Sighing, I crawl over to a huge tree then maneuver myself so I’m sitting against it because it’s easier for me to breathe when I’m upright. With nothing but time on my hands, I allow the darkness to consume me once again, praying that when I wake up, I’ll have a solution to my current predicament.

“Sassy, you sure are louder than normal,” I mumble, sleepiness still clouding my mind. “You’ve never sounded like this, are you okay?”

After struggling for a few minutes against the weight on my legs, I manage to pry my one eye open and nearly scream as I come face to face with a mountain lion. It’s sitting across my legs, keeping me warm I might add, and purring loudly as if to comfort me. “Well, you’re gorgeous, but you’re definitely not Sassy,” I say, slowly reaching my hand out. “Never been this close to a mountain lion, were you trying to wake me up so you could eat me? I’m kinda scrawny, you know.”

The mountain lion huffs out something that almost sounds like a laugh, and I glance even closer because there’s something familiar about him. Not that I know whether it’s a male or female, it’s just easier for me to use a male pronoun, I guess. Shaking my head, I moan as pain seizes me at the movement, earning a glare from the big cat.

Yes, a fucking glare. As if he’s human or something. Which is pure fantasy because shifters aren’t real, although right aboutnow, I sure the hell wish they were. “You wouldn’t happen to know how I can get back to the Royal Bastards’ clubhouse, would ya?” I ask, before snorting at the absurdity of my question. “Never mind, I’m an idiot and must have taken more blows to my head than I realized. Just so you know, I talk a lot to my cat, Sassy, so whether or not you can understand me, makes no difference to me at all. I don’t know how to get help, although I did manage to get away from the fucking asshole who took me. He’s my ex, by the way, and he’s the worst human being in the world. Do you know what he did?”

He growls low in his throat as if to say, “Carry on,” so I do. I tell him everything starting from the first time I met Patrick, and ending with what happened today.

“Now what do I do?” I ask, tears steadily dripping down my face. I hear a noise from overhead and look up to see a huge hawk flying above us. “He’s kind of low to the ground seeing as neither of us are small enough to capture for a meal.”

He stares up at the hawk and I swear I’m losing my mind because it seems as though they communicate something, which isn’t possible. The hawk screeches once again then flies off as Mr. Mountain Lion settles his head down on his paws once again, his eyes never leaving my face.

Giggling, aware that I’m probably on the edge of hysterics, I say, “Maybe he went to get help.”

Then I promptly pass out once again, the pain overwhelming me.

I wake up again to voices and struggle to clear my dry throat. “Here! I’m over here!” I yell, which is barely more than a whisper.

Yet, suddenly, Banshee is filling my limited view as he drops to the ground. Uncaring about how filthy and bloody I am, he gently gathers me into his arms, and I break, my sobs shaking me so hard, I can feel pain radiating through every injury. “Shhh, minx, I’ve got you and nobody will ever hurt you again,” he murmurs.

“D-d-did I kill him?” I ask.

“No, but he’s in a world of hurt right now, that’s for damn sure,” Banshee growls out. Now wide awake, I can hear ungodly screams coming from the house and cringe.

He may be an abusing asshole, but the terror-filled sounds have me staring at Banshee in horror. “What’s going on?”

“The mountain lion is showing him the error of his ways,” he finally says after a long silence.

“The mountain lion?” I’m confused as hell right now and worry that I’ve slipped over the edge into insanity. I remember talking to a mountain lion earlier, one who seemed as though he understood every word I spoke.

“Maybe the hawk too, not totally sure because when I heard you, I came running out,” he admits.

“Banshee, what you’re saying doesn’t make any sense at all,” I reply, wincing when he carefully stands with me in his arms.

“Some things are best left undiscussed,” he says, walking toward the club’s SUV. “Because it defies reality. Now, let’s get you back to their clubhouse so I can get you checked out.”

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