Page 13 of Saber's Surrender

“I thought Canyon’s femur was shattered,” I reply. “We’ve gotta be missing something.”

I don’t tell her about my ‘gift’ of being able to see things that are missed by machinery. Whereas I agree they don’t have any breaks in their bones, they do have some sprains and tendon tears. Things that’ll heal over time, and I did initially worry over fractures, but I think that’s because I was so damn discombobulated that I couldn’t settle long enough to use my divination.

“Well, both of them do have slight concussions,” she informs me. “They’re complaining of headaches as well as persistent aches all over their bodies. I’m going to prescribe them something for the pain.”

“The CAT scan doesn’t show anything as far as internal bleeding either,” I add, looking over the printed report from the radiologist. “Just some bruises there as well. Still, they’ll definitely need to take it easy for a few weeks while everything heals.”

“I think they’ll be okay doing that,” Roxy replies. “But, we need to make sure they know that walking around is good for them as far as helping the aches and pains dissipate. I know grown adults hate doing it, so hopefully, kids won’t be as hard to convince.”

“If Canyon’s involved in any kind of sport, he probably knows that already, since most coaches stress the fact that they need to stretch and move after a workout or game,” I supply.

Which has me wondering about our son. Does he prefer sports or academics? Maybe he plays an instrument or likes to create through other means. We’ve both missed out on so much where he’s concerned and while I can feel that anger rising up once again, I do my best to tamp it back. I have a plan in place that’ll hopefully bring us full circle.

Without any further words shared between us, we separate and go to put in our orders. The kids will be staying overnight for observation, which will give us time to get the ball rolling with social services which reminds me that the woman who was sent to oversee their hospital stay is in the waiting room. She told the nurses earlier she was going to grab a cup of coffee and begin making phone calls. Before she gets too far into looking for a placement for them, I need to speak with her and let her know where I’d like them to go and the reason why.

“Roxy,” I call out her name to grab her attention. She swivels her head my way and tilts it to the side. “We need to go lay things out for Mrs. Tremain.”

She closes her eyes for a brief moment before nodding. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Looking up at the ceiling and praying for patience, I hold my hand out and stretch my fingers so she knows I want her to place hers in mine. We need to go before Mrs. Tremain as a united front.

“Really?” she asks with exasperation.

“Yes, really,” I retort, releasing a heated, frustrated breath. I stand here looking at her, giving her no other alternative than to follow my lead.

“Fine,” she harrumphs. Taking her sweet time, her feet dragging with each step, she finally reaches me and rolls her eyes. “You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re being a bitch, but here we are. Asshole and bitch going to talk to the one person who’ll help us get our boy back so suck it up, buttercup.”

CHAPTER

EIGHT

Roxy

It feelslike anchors are chained to my feet as Saber all but drags me into the waiting room where Mrs. Tremain is with her phone in one hand and her laptop situated on her lap as her fingers on the other hand are steadily typing away.

“Mrs. Tremain,” Saber says her name. Her head snaps up from the screen and she tilts her head to the side as she scans over our expressions. Mine probably looks like I’ve sucked on a lemon and his is painted with a serious reflection.

“How can I help y’all, doctors?” she asks, lowering her phone and moving her computer over to the side table. “Are the kids alright?”

“Yeah, they're good. Promise. We were hoping you had a few spare minutes to talk with us,” Saber excuses.

“Of course,” she replies, giving us her undivided attention. “What can I do for you?” Suddenly, the green-eyed monster raises its head when she has a little more interest in her eyes when she looks at Saber than is needed. For fuck’s sake, this may all be for show, but my hand is tied to his.

What the hell is wrong with women these days? Every female he crosses paths with becomes a floozy and if this is what ‘marriage’ with him is going to be like, I want no part of it. This is a business arrangement and I need to keep that in mind because if the way I am reacting to her interest in him is any indication, I’m going to end up behind bars and orange is not a flattering color on me. Neither are stripes for that matter! I don’t want to be singing any jailhouse rock tunes, thank you very much. Now that my internal musings have blasted their way through my common sense, I need to exit stage left and find a bottle of wine so I can numb these wayward emotions.

“Roxy and I have been together for the entirety of our lives,” he begins explaining.

“That’s good to know,” Mrs. Tremain teases, giving me an assessing look which has me straightening my shoulders and giving her a blistering smile. Take that you hussy! He’s claiming me so you can get back on the bitch in heat train.

What the holy hell is wrong with me? I mentally slap myself on the forehead and lower my eyes. I want to be strong and resilient when it comes to this man. But at the same time, he’s been mine for the entirety of my life and I’m not sure how to disconnect the two.

Distance. I need to keep far away from him, but somehow, I don’t see him letting me get away with doing that. He’s so damn determined that I’m not sure he’d allow me to put a door between us at this point let alone any yardage.

“I’m trying to get at something,” Saber chuckles. “I promise I’m not trying to give you a history report on us.”

“Alright, you’ve got my attention,” she acknowledges, now appearing more professional in her demeanor.

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