Page 49 of Killian
Then I had to lay it out again when Elliot and his partner, Cannon, came to take my statement. Then again to a specialist doctor. And one more time to Elliot’s commanding officer.
By the time I’d repeated myself four or five times, I lost count. I was beat, and sleep overtook me. Killian held my hand until I went out.
Waking up rough was never fun. Waking up rough with cracked ribs and bolting upright in bed, really not fun.
“What’s wrong?” Killian asked, jumping from the corner couch and coming to me.
Visions. Fists flying at me. Boots kicking my ribs. Spittle words. All of it.
“Just a bad dream. It’ll be fine.” Truth was, I didn’t know if it would be fine or not. I hoped it would, but one could never tell at this point.
“You get out of here, and it’ll all be good.”
I didn’t know if that was true or not, but part of me really hoped that it was. There was one problem, though.
“What about Khloe, the jewelry, and the thumb drive? How, or where, do I get them so that asshole leaves Bri and me alone?” The asshole in question was Viktor Swarngton, a roller in the drug trade. Not that I even knew we had a drug trade here in Brookville, but apparently we did. A big one. And he was the big kahuna according to Killian.
“Oliver has Bri’s brothers’ place locked up tight. You’ll be at my place. We won’t let anything happen to you. That’ll mean staying where we put you.”
“The bar?”
“Corey can handle it, and you can talk to her via phone for a few days. We’ll get it wired up and safe, then you can go back.”
Looking up at the popcorn ceiling, it had nothing to say. “So we have to stay locked up?”
“Until we get the thumb drive or bracelets. Both I’d like, but I’d settle for Viktor’s head on a fuckin’ platter.”
“I won’t have to see him again, will I?”
He leaned in and kissed the top of my head. “Fuck no. Never.”
A deep sigh released from me. I believed him. I felt safe with Killian. I could go a thousand lives not seeing that man or his thugs again. Any man who put his hands on a woman like that was garbage, and I’d like him to rot.
“Good.”
They kept me in the hospital for two days. The extra day because my blood tests came back with extremely low counts on my red cells and platelets. After doing another blood test, my numbers were on target. The doctor said it was because of the trauma to my body. Still, it wasn’t pretty.
Laying on Killian’s couch, the man hadn’t let me up for a few hours now, and it was bugging the shit out me. While I loved to nap or take it easy, whenever I was able to, sitting around his house wasn’t going to fly. He’d have tonight, but tomorrow, I’d be up and moving around.
The entire thing was jacked up, and how I got myself in the middle of it was pissing me off. There were people I could be pissed at, but what would that help? Nothing. Being mad never solved anything.
As long as Bri was safe and I was here, everything would be okay. At least I was holding onto that small bit of hope with everything inside of me.
We hoped all the time. Hoped the washer would work. Hoped your mom wasn’t sick. Hoped you had enough money to pay the bills. Hope was the only thing that pulled many people through. And right now, it was what I was holding on to.
“You wanna shower?” Killian asked with a smirk.
“You can’t have sex with me, buddy.”
He chuckled. “Buddy? Did you really just call me buddy?”
“Yep. That’s your new name. I thought about Hottie McHotson or sugar pie, but those don’t fit you. Buddy does.”
“Seriously?” His brow lifted, challenging me. Truth was, he didn’t look anything like a buddy at all. That was the furthest thing. More like a macho man or badass commando. He was just badass. It made buddy work for him. The same but opposite. I liked it, and it appeared to drive him batty, so I’d see how long I could get away with it before he threw me over his knee and spanked me.
I hoped it wasn’t soon, because that shit would hurt, and I’d have to cut off his nuts, and I really liked his nuts. That would be pitiful.
“Yep. That’s my new name for you.”
