“In that room, there were no good choices for you and me. He intended to hurt us no matter what we chose. He almost took you from me when he gave me that ultimatum on that last day. I thought I chose right by giving him what he wanted and still he tried to take you from me.”She pulls back just enough to set her pale green eyes upon mine. “If anyone is to blame, it’s me—“she starts to say, but Creed leans down and nips her ear, forcing her to roll her neck to dislodge him with a whisper of a giggle before rolling her eyes with a sigh and says, “But Creed is having none of that either. So if I can’t blame myself, then neither can you.”
“Fucking right you can’t.” He kisses her cheek before turning to me. “That goes for you, too, Sweet Boy,” he says before kissing my forehead.
“I don’t know how you two don’t hate me,” I whisper, looking down at my hands before looking at each of them. “But I’m really fucking glad you don’t.” The last words barely register as my throat threatens to close up on me, heavy emotions overwhelming my senses again.
“Riley, I don’t think it could ever be possible for us to hate you.”
“Please believe that.”Collins ducks her head down to peek up at me beneath her lashes. Beyond the bruising, she’s still so fucking adorable when she gives me those big green eyes. “Because a day without my Riley Benjamin isn’t a day worth having at all.”
My heart fuckingsoars. A weight has been lifted from my shoulders, even if just a little, and it feels like I still have a future worth looking forward to.
All I can do is nod, because if I open my mouth to talk, I’m going to cry again and I’m really freaking tired of doing that. It’ll be a long while before I stop actually blaming myself for everything that happened. But knowing that I haven’t fucked everything up with the two people who mean more to me than life itself feels like a pretty good start.
Chapter 15
Riley
“THERE’S NOTHING IN THE WORLD THAT FEELS MORE RIGHT.”
About an hour ago, Creed had Collins settle in next to me before pulling up a chair and kicking his feet up on the end of the bed to relax next to us.
The nurse had come in to take my vitals while glaring at Creed but didn’t say a word about Collins curled up next to me sleeping. She had actually checked over her, too, before leaving the room, letting me know she’d be bringing another round of antibiotics soon. Dr. Munn had come in shortly after to go over each of my injuries. The stab wounds to my thigh had missed any major arteries but did slice clean through my muscle. He’d said with daily movement and no heavy lifting, I should be okay and heal properly. The burn scars from the rope on my wrists were tender to the touch but would also heal with minimal scarring.
His main concerns were the tremors in my hands, mobility of my right arm, and my ear. When he removed the bandage to check the gunshot wound, he also informed me that the close range of the blast not only took off half of my right ear, but the bullet had grazed my skull, burning the flesh there. My hearing is a little muffled, but we won’t know the extent of the damage until I’ve fully healed.
Dr. Munn went over the details of my shoulder injury thoroughly, though. While I didn’t understand some of what he was saying, I got the jist of it.
I was shot near my brachial plexus, and the bullet was lodged in the muscle; it was likely the cause of the sepsis. The bullet had also done damage to my radial nerve, which explained my inability to make a fist or even grip a pencil.
Before he left and I could panic, he’d put in an order for physical and occupational therapy to see me to establish a care plan. I’m choosing to not think about it right now because I think I can only handle so much for one day.
That was about an hour ago, right before I dozed off. My head itches where the bandage covers my ear, and I try reaching the spot with my opposite hand when I feel where they shaved my head. I was so focused on the fact that I only had half of an ear that I hadn’t paid much attention to it before. Everything from the nape of my neck up to just before my crown on the right side is gone. There’s gauze covering most of it, and the skin beneath feels swollen and angry.
“It looked worse before I fixed it,” Creed murmurs, his voice low as he reaches over and gently pats around the bandage, alleviating the itch. “They had just taken little chunks here and there. I wasn’t about to let you walk around with an uneven haircut, baby.”
I snort at his ridiculous reasoning, but I feel grateful nonetheless. “You did that for me?”
“Of course.” He smiles, resting his hand on my thigh. “You’re my boy. I was in here taking care of you as much as I was in Collins’ room with her.”
That surprises me. Creed’s always been a caretaker, though I felt that shift move from me to her when she came into our lives. I was okay with that and wouldn’t have it any other way. “Whywould you leave her for me? Was she alone while you were in here? “
He just rolls his eyes and pats my leg like I’m just talking nonsense. “One, she wasn’t alone, don’t worry. Everyone’s been on rotation between Asher, Blair, Bear, and Ayla. They’ve been with her when I’m not. I wanted to get the two of you in a room together, but they had you in isolation while your body was fighting infection.”
His thumb circles lazily where his hand rests on my thigh, and I wish my arm wasn’t tied to my side so I could hold it. Creed tracks my gaze and smirks. Like he’s read my thoughts, he leans forward and laces his fingers over the tops of mine where they rest against my abdomen.
He nods to Collins, snuggled up and tucked into my side. “She would’ve had my balls if I didn’t see you. Not that I wouldn’t have, anyway. But it’s what she wanted, too.” He shakes his head. “She was fucking pissed that I didn’t bring her in here sooner, you know? You’re the first person she thought of when she came out of her dissociative state.”
“I-I was?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m…sorry.”
He fixes me with a puzzled look. “Why?”
My face heats. “Because you two are…together.”
He stares at me, looking a little dumbfounded for a second. “And you’re not?”
