Chapter 130

RAVEN: He’s awake.

Is he okay?

Is he not okay?

RAVEN: He’s grumpy.

No one is surprised he’s grumpy. But is he okay??

RAVEN: He looks like crap. He’s on a mission. But he’s up and moving.

Mission? What mission?

You know what? I’m coming back.

RAVEN: No, no, no, no. Stay there. Rest for the baby. We’ve got this.

No, I’m fine. I’ll be there.

RAVEN: I’m texting Gabby.

Don’t you dare.

If you don’t have to go to the bathroom, you get your sorry ass back into bed right fucking now,” Gabby growled viciously from the doorway. Dang it. Raven had texted her. I paused at the edge of the bed as I considered just how much of her wrath I wanted to incite.

“Killian’s awake,” I told her. “I want to go to the hospital.”

“Tomorrow,” she said. She stood in the bedroom door of our suite, arms crossed and chin raised as if ready to fight me. “We have your appointment at the hospital tomorrow. You can see him then. You need to rest.”

“I can walk!” I protested. “I’m fine.”

“Raise your arm and say that again,” she challenged and arched a brow. And Lord help me, I considered it. Even with my complicated sling on. Gabby smirked. “That’s what I thought. Sit your ass back in bed, continue your show, and figure out what you want me to order us for dinner. I’ll be in the living room when you’re ready.”

I made a face as she left the room, tempted to be sassy. I hated being stuck in a bed so damn uselessly. I understood why—at least I told myself I could understand why. More than anything, I wanted to be at the hospital with Killian and Nolan rather than be stuck in a fancy hotel room.

Instead of watching a show, I got comfortable on a pile of pillows with a book. The words floated around the page as my focus was anywhere but on the story.

“You always did that lip thing when you were reading sex scenes, but the eyebrow thing means it’s poorly written. So, how bad are we fucking talking?”

My head snapped up at the sound of his voice.Killian leaned against the doorframe with his hands in his jacket pocket and a weary smile on his face.

“You’re here,” I whispered.

“Don’t you move that ass out of bed,” he ordered when I tried to get up. I huffed with frustration. “Don’t give me that look, princess. If the doctor wants your ass in bed, we’re keeping your ass in bed.”

“Damn it,” I grumbled, making him chuckle. “All of you are so bossy.”

“I thought you liked it when I bossed you around?” he retorted quietly. Of course, I did, and he knew that. He closed the door to give us privacy.

“They let you out?” I asked. I tracked his every movement through the room as he kicked off his shoes and eased out of his jacket.

“Let me out may be a bit of a fucking stretch,” Killian admitted. “I’m sort of a missing patient.”

“Ian!”

“Please. They can’t hold me.”

“That sounds hypocritical,” I pointed. My heart dropped out of my chest as he peeled off his shirt. He was varying shades of black and blue with a long line of stitches under his ribcage. “I thought your uniform shirt was supposed to protect you.”

“It is.” He moaned as he climbed into bed next to me. He was careful as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against his chest. I breathed him in deep and made a face. He smelled like a hospital—sterile and old. Not a smell I liked. “And that is exactly why Beau and Lane are taking her weapons back to see why hers went right through my fucking uniform. How are you?”

“I have so many questions,” I told him instead.

“I’m not surprised. Tell me how you are first,” he ordered, his tone gentle. “Be honest, please.”

“I feel like I imagined I’d feel if I tried to do your job,” I replied. He snorted as he held back a laugh. “I’d be very bad at it.”

“The uniform would look hot on you.”

“Stop that.”

“You started it.” He kissed the top of my head. “What else?”

“It just hurts.” I sighed and shifted, trying hard to get comfortable. The stupid sling made it practically impossible. “I hate this stupid thing. I’m hoping that I can take it off tomorrow.”

“I doubt that, princess. You’re probably looking at a long road of recovery,” he told me. “Would it help distract you if I let you ask me some questions.? Stick with just the important ones right now?”

“Who do you work for?”

“Lane.”

“Who is Joey?”

“Do you want the truth?” Killian asked after hesitating. I nodded, and I sighed. “Joey is royalty from the fifteenth century and Lane’s prisoner. When Lane discovered the heinous ways Joey was torturing his subjects over things like needing food to feed their families and having no way to obtain it but taking it from royalty, he immortalized him. Lane tortured him for centuries as punishment.”

“That’s awful,” I whispered.

“That’s an eye for an eye,” he said. “Joey could only die once, but he’s single-handedly responsible for the deaths of thousands. One death wasn’t enough retribution. Thousands of years of being tortured was. Now, Joey’s in Lane’s employment to run his bounty hunting business. He mostly handles the human end of things, but he dabbles in some of the paranormal depending on the situation. Lane strictly handles his own team, but sometimes he takes an interest in individuals he deems special.”

“Like you.”

“Like me.”

“Is he a good man?” I replied. “Or a bad one?”

“Fuck.” He blew out a long breath. “Neither. Lane just… is. He does what no one else is willing to do for both our world and the human world. The thing is, he doesn’t hurt people who don’t deserve it. You have to do something particularly horrific for him to get involved. I really do help drag in idiots who jump bail or have warrants out for their arrest. I don’t turn them into Lane. I return them to the station they belong to. But there are just some people the system fails, and that’s when he steps in.”

“But doesn’t him taking things into his own hands go against the whole point of a judicial system?”

“If he can save people’s lives when the judicial system fails, isn’t that worth it?” Killian challenged. I chewed my lip because I wasn’t sure where I stood on that idea.

“Did you know he was a hunter?” I asked.

“The first hunter, and yes, I did,” he said. “He’s always been upfront with me about who he is. He didn’t tell me about the curse, but he and I will deal with that at another fucking time.”

“Why would you be friends with him?”

“I…” Killian faltered. “I don’t think I’d classify Lane and me as friends. Besides, I think some part of me understands why he created the hunters. Someone had to protect humans from my ancestors. He had a solution, even if it was an extreme fucking version of one.”

“Very extreme.”

“We wolves have the capacity for great violence, Genevieve,” he stated. “Just because we choose peace doesn’t mean we aren’t dangerous.”

“Yeah…” Images of Nolan in the warehouse rolled through my mind, and I shuddered.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, running his hand up my arm.

“Nolan… is he okay?” Okay? God, what a horrible way to say it. There was no way he’d be okay. And Raven’s messages didn’t give me much. “Did you see him?”

“He’s got a long road ahead of him,” he said. “Have they updated you on his condition?”

“Yeah, but I’m still worried.”

“Physically, he’ll heal, but the scars will be there. Seen and unseen.”

“How does… how does someone come back from…” I struggled to say the words out loud. “How does someone come back from that?”

“How are you handling it, Genevieve?” Killian asked instead. How was I handling it? I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I could hear Nolan screaming. Or I could hear her voice.

“What did Gabby say?” I replied, knowing full well my sister had talked.

“She said you won’t take the medicine the doctor gave you to help you sleep. And when you do sleep, you wake up screaming or crying. Declan told me about the panic attack in the hospital, and Gabby told me you’ve been anxious but trying to hide it from her.”

“I hear him whenever I fall asleep.” A sob caught in my throat, and his arm tightened around me. “I thought he was going to… and I couldn’t do anything. Maybe if I’d…”

Maybe if I’d… what?What could I have done differently?

“There wasn’t a damn thing you could’ve done, baby girl,” Killian assured me. “Not against someone like her.”

“Can you teach me to be like you?” The silence that greeted me was discouraging. Despite the pain in my shoulder, I rotated enough to stare up at him. “You said you trust no one with my life.”

“I take that back. I trust Nolan.” Oh, my heart. “Why do you want to learn to fight, baby girl?”

“Because you won’t always be there,” I told him, guilty over the pained expression the statement put on his face. “And what if something like this happens again?”

“It won’t happen again, Genevieve.”

“You can’t promise that!” I exclaimed with a rise of panic in my voice. “What if it does? What if I’m alone? What am I supposed to do? Or what if you can’t find me?”

The words jumbled together as they fell out of my mouth. My chest heaved and constricted, making breathing difficult. Killian cupped my cheek and pressed his forehead to mine.

“Breathe for me, baby girl,” he whispered while I sucked in air desperately and blinked back tears. “I’ll teach you how to protect yourself and then some, okay? You won’t need a fucking person in the world to keep you safe by the time I’m done with you, I promise. Okay?”

“Okay.” I nodded. “Okay. I’m okay. I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not,” he said. “But that’s okay. You don’t have to be, Genevieve.”

He was right. I wasn’t okay. I was far from it and didn’t know what to do.

“Distract me? Please?” I pleaded. Something to distract from all the little thoughts threatening to take over again.

“What did the doctor say?” Killian asked. “About the baby? Declan said everything was okay, but I wasn’t sure what he knew. I didn’t know what to ask.”

“Grab that,” I replied, waving my good arm at the night table beside him. “Envelope. Open the envelope.”

He grabbed the envelope and opened it, taking out the ultrasound the doctor had done. I hadn’t wanted it, but he’d insisted. There was one major detail that was easier for Killian to just see rather than me telling him.

Also, watching the look on his face as he stared at it was personal entertainment.

“Genevieve,” he began slowly, and I smiled, “there’s two.”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Two babies,” he repeated.

“Yes.”

“There’s two in there.” Oh, good Lord this man. “That’s four hands.”

“Yes.”

“And twenty fingers,” Killian said. I nodded and kept nodding as he worked it out. “And four feet. And twenty toes. That’s two babies, Genevieve. Like two full babies.”

“Well, they’re nine weeks right now,” I corrected. “We haven’t gotten to the full baby part.”

“But that’s two babies!” he exclaimed. God, I was trying so hard not to laugh at him. “That automatically levels the fucking playing field! Two of them and two of us! And when it’s just one of us, we’re automatically outnumbered. I only have two fucking hands!”

“And ten fingers,” I teased. I couldn’t help myself. From the look he shot me, he wasn’t impressed.

“That’s two of everything,” he stated. “And what if we can’t tell them apart?”

“We’ll be able to tell them apart,” I assured him.

“Is it wrong to color code your kids?”

“Ian!”

“Fuck me.” He exhaled as his head thunked against the headboard. “Twins?”

“Twins,” I confirmed.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.” I leaned back against him, closing my eyes. “Can I get back to you on that?”

“Please do. Get some sleep, baby girl.” His voice drifted. Maybe it was me. Maybe it was him. I wasn’t sure, but the comfort of him being there tugged on the exhaustion nagging at every corner of my brain. His whisper weaved through my mind as sleep took over, “Fuck, we’re having twins.”