Page 57 of Swallow Your Fear
“I’m taking you to the hospital,” Booker said, letting the sweatshirt fall to cover my stomach again.
My body instantly began to shake with the thought of him not being by my side. What would I tell the nurses if they asked how I got these injuries? They’d assume Booker did it, and I couldn’t bear them pinning this on him.
“N-no,” I stammered. My bare legs were feeling the chillfrom the fall air now that the adrenaline was beginning to wear off.
“Brynne, you’re hurt. I’m taking you,” Booker said adamantly.
“They’re going to t-take me from you.”
He shook his head, pulling me to his chest. I leaned all my weight on him as I breathed him in. “I won’t let them do that. I’ll be by your side the entire time.”
My fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt. “Do you p-promise?”
I felt his chin brush the top of my head, his stubble getting caught in my hair as he nodded. “I promise.”
“Only six stitches. Not as bad as I thought,” Dr. Manson said, setting the tools he’d used to sew up the side of my head on the metal tray beside him. “Keep the wound dry for about forty-eight hours, and then you can gently clean the area.”
“And the bruising on her neck?” Booker asked. He’d stayed by my side the whole time, just like he’d promised. His hand never left mine.
Dr. Manson turned to him on his swivel stool. “She should try to keep talking to a minimum, and sleep with her head elevated to reduce any swelling. Ice will help, too.”
Booker nodded in response. He’d done most of the talking since we arrived, but it’d been difficult trying to make the nurse understand I didn’t want to be away from him when she wanted to question what happened. We’d gone with a story that I was mugged and the guy gotaway. Though the nurse didn’t look convinced, she hadn’t prodded. For obvious reasons, we wouldn’t be filing a report.
Austin and Henley had stayed behind to take care of the mess. Booker had received a few updates from them after they left the abandoned park with the bodies in the van, but other than that, he’d left them to deal with all of it. I should’ve encouraged him to go help, but I was selfish and wanted him here with me. Booker wasn’t complaining about it, either.
Dr. Manson set a reassuring hand on the bar next to my arm. “Rest, pain meds, and water. Keep on that routine for a few weeks, and you’ll be good as new in no time.”
He’d advised to stay in bed as much as possible to heal my cracked rib from when Lance kicked me, and I wanted nothing more than to do just that. So long as Booker was by my side.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice still gravelly.
Dr. Manson nodded in our direction, then left the room, closing the door behind him.
Booker’s thumb brushed over the back of my hand. “I really hate to ask this, Darlin’…”
I cocked my head in question.
His eyes looked pained. “Do you want the nurse to do a rape kit?”
I swallowed wrong the second he said it and erupted in a fit of coughs. He thought they’d…
“No,” I answered after I got the cough under control. “Plus, I was only mugged, remember?”
I tried to smile at that, but Booker didn’t find itamusing at all.
“I wanted his death to be slower,” he admitted, quieting his voice so only I could hear him.
“I know.” I wanted the same.
“But you were the only thing that mattered in that moment, Brynne. Not revenge, not my rage. You.”
I pressed my lips together to keep the tears at bay. “I know.”
He shook his head as he moved his gaze to our hands locked together. “You don’t know.”
“Then tell me,” I whispered. I wanted all of him. His thoughts, secrets, confessions. Every bit of him, I craved.
“I don’t want to share you anymore.” His eyes met mine again, likely to gauge my reaction. “Fuck, I don’t know why I did in the first place. We were just toying with each other, and I fucking liked the way you looked all exposed to them… But now, it makes me want to throw up.”
