Jethro
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FOUR DAYS.
A full ninety-six hours since I’d awoken from surgery.
An eternity of staring at the powder blue ceiling with a cheerful puppy poster going out of my fucking mind with worry for Nila.
What were they doing to her?
How was she coping?
Jasmine had said she’d do everything in her power to keep her safe, but as much as I trusted and loved my sister, I knew what my brother and father were capable of.
She’s not safe there.
I have to get her out.
I also knew what Bonnie was capable of and that scared me to fucking death.
Sighing heavily in the stagnant room, I gritted my teeth and pushed upright. I was sick of lying horizontally. I was pissed at being told what I could and couldn’t do. And I’d had enough of trading one imprisonment for another.
Louille had threatened me on a daily basis with restraining me. Especially, when he’d found me on the floor the day after my surgery, bleeding from launching myself out of bed, believing I was cured enough to fight.
I was stupid to try—but Ihadto. I had no choice.
I couldn’t just lie there. That wasn’t an option. Nila needed me. And I wouldn’t let her down again.
It’s time to do things my fucking way. Otherwise, it will be too late.
The first three days, Louille had been a damn Nazi on my attempts to walk. I got that he was responsible for my welfare. That he’d done his job and patched me up to ensure I lived another day. But what he didn’t get was I didn’twantto live another fucking day if Nila wasn’t there with me.
It’s my responsibility, goddammit.
I wouldn’t fail her. Ever again.
Yesterday, I’d won one battle. I positively despised my demotion to a lump of decomposing meat, lying in bed with drains in my side and a catheter in my fucking cock.
I’d shown just how healthy I was with a shouting match, ensuring the removal of the catheter and the drains. Time was an enemy but also a friend. Everytickleft Nila out of my protection, but everytockhealed me so I couldfinally set right my wrongs.
I just wished I had a magical device that paused time at Hawksridge and sped up my existence so I could be strong once again.
Wait for me, Nila.
Stay alive for me, Nila.
Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I looked at the sterilized linoleum floor. At least I felt more like a man rather than a healing vegetable. The past few days had been awful, but I was getting better—no matter how weak I was.
I hated being so fucking feeble. Too feeble to be of any use.
But no matter my frustration, I couldn’t battle through the tiredness or soreness of my body knitting back together. It healed as fast as it could. I just had to learn patience.
I snorted.Yeah, right. Patience when my deranged family has my woman. Like that would ever fucking happen.
You have no choice.
If only I could heal faster.
