Every Little Piece of Him Page 20

  Over the next ten minutes, he breathed for her. He focused for her. He fought for her.

  Finally, her eyelids fluttered. Unable to lie beside her, he sat up, using both his hands to assure her that he was still here.

  Iliana moaned, moving her head back and forth. He cupped her face, kissing her cheeks.

  "It's okay, Il. I'm here. Right here." He placed his forehead against hers. "You're safe. No one is ever going to touch you again."

  "B...aby?" she mumbled.

  His chest tightened, and he swallowed the lump of emotions choking him. "I'm here."

  "Don't come." She shook her head. "Go."

  "Not going anywhere." He pressed his lips to her forehead. "No one is ever going to pull us apart again."

  Iliana cried out, raising her head off the floor. Dr. Warner put his hand on Anders' shoulder. He moved back without letting go of her.

  "Help her Doc," he said.

  "I need to check her temperature and listen to her heart. We don’t want things to move too fast. Slow is the key." Dr. Warner leaned forward.

  The skin on Iliana's forehead wrinkled. "Anders?"

  "It's okay. The doctor is going to—"

  "Mac?" Her brow wrinkled.

  The back of his neck tensed. "He's gone. You'll never see him again."

  "Her temperature is at ninety-five point two. Her heart is beating steadily." Dr. Warner looped the stethoscope around his neck. "Now, let's talk about transporting her to the hospital. Do you want her to go into Missoula or take her over into Idaho? It's the same distance either way. Though I still retain my registration at Missoula General, if you'd like me to continue her care."

  Iliana whined. He looked down at her. Wherever she wanted to go, he'd make sure she got there.

  "I-I don't want t-to leave you." Her glassy eyes begged to stay.

  "We need to make sure you're okay." He glanced at her fingers, still pale from the cold.

  His phone dinged. Across the room, another phone alarm went off. Anders looked at Quint and Mark as a third alert came in. He reached into his pocket, wiped the moisture from his wet pants off the screen and pulled up his texts.

  Unknown caller: You have a present at the trailhead.

  He looked at the others. What could possibly go more wrong tonight?

  Mark waved his finger from his chest to Quint and motioned to the door. "We'll go check it out."

  Anders nodded. He wasn't going to leave Iliana's side. "Throw the lock on your way out."

  "I'll let you two talk." Dr. Warner pivoted on his knees and used the couch to get to his feet. "If you don't mind, I'd like to get a drink of water."

  Anders pointed toward the kitchen. "Help yourself."

  Alone with Iliana, he gathered her to his chest, cradling her head. "We're going to get you warm."

  "My feet burn." She licked her dry lips. "I can't feel my fingers."

  "You will." He kissed her forehead and inhaled deeply. "You scared the hell out of me, Il."

  "I was scared." Her voice shook. "Why? Mac?"

  He looked her in the eyes. "I'll tell you why when you're all better. Just...you have to know, this will not happen again. I'm not going to let you out of my sight."

  "I don't want to go to the hospital." She flinched, trying to move her arm to raise her hand to his face. "I'm going to be okay."

  "Your feet and hands, Il." He swallowed and brought her cold fingers to his lips. "I don't want something to happen to you."

  "The doctor can look after me here, right?" Her chin chattered. "M-my mouth is...so dry. I don't feel good."

  If she wanted Dr. Warner with her, he'd pay to have round the clock care.

  Her body shook. He looked down at the blankets. Alarmed that she would have a seizure, he called for the doctor.

  "Ah, I see you're starting to get a little uncomfortable. Your body is still too cold, but as your temperature adjusts, you'll feel hot." Dr. Warner approached the couch. "That's a good sign, but I must warn you that parts of you are going to hurt like the devil before you feel better."

  "My feet." Iliana groaned. "They're burning hot."

  Dr. Warner searched through his bag. "Do you have any allergies?"

  Iliana shook her head. Anders took her arm and tucked it back under the blanket. He should know how to care for her, know her allergies, know the things he never thought to ask, and he would. As soon as he got her back to feeling okay.

  "Let's get two of these pills in you." He handed the medicine to Anders. "I'll get a glass of water for her. Just a sip. Her stomach will be upset for a while."

  Anders wished he could take the pain she was going through. If it weren't for him, she wouldn't be in the condition of almost losing her life.

  The doctor returned. Iliana took the pain medication.

  Anders continued to hold her, hoping the effects of the pills would let her rest comfortably.

  The door shook as banging filled the room. Anders tensed, reaching behind him for the pistol, and coming up empty. He gazed at Dr. Warner, trying to stay calm. No one could get through the door, but Mark and Quint were outside.

  "Can you check who it is through that window?" He pointed. "Don't open the door until you can see who is there."

  Dr. Warner frowned and moved across the room before stopping and peering through the glass. "It's your friends, carrying someone."

  His heart raced. He'd forgotten about the text they'd all received in his worry over Iliana. "Let them in."

  Mark and Quint pushed into the room, carrying a man. Anders recognized the long, black hair hanging loose and his body seized. He looked up and met Mark's knowing eyes, silently questioning him.

  Mark gazed back. "He's dead."

  Chapter 41

  Brightness penetrated Iliana's closed eyelids. She groaned and rolled to her side, her body protesting every movement. Her hands and feet burned as if they were run over by a car and set on fire.

  The arm, draped over her waist, tightened, reminding her of the last thing she remembered. She opened her eyes and without moving, looked around the living room at floor level. Not seeing anyone, she tried to remember the things that'd happened before the medication she took put her into a dreamless sleep.

  Mac forced her out of Stone Lair.

  The snow fell.

  Anders never left her side.

  Quint and Mark came over.

  Afterward, there was silence.

  "Baby?" she whispered.

  "I'm here." Anders shifted behind her. "What's wrong?"

  "Everything." The pressure in her lower stomach intensified. "I need to use the bathroom."

  Through the night, she vaguely remembered Dr. Warner and Anders sitting her up to drink several times before going back to sleep.

  "I'll carry you." He sat up. "Are you warmer?"

  "Mm-hm." Her stomach turned, fighting nausea. "Maybe I can walk."

  "Not until the doctor gives his okay." He kneeled beside her, sliding his hands under her naked back and thighs.

  He lifted her into his arms and stood. She closed her eyes an extra beat, willing herself not to throw up.

  In the bathroom, he stood in front of the toilet. Her need to go to the bathroom overrode modesty. She could pee with a roomful of people at the moment.

  "How do you want to do this?" he asked, gruffly.

  "Just set me on the toilet."

  His body tilted as he toed the lid up. Then, she was shifted in his arms, the blankets falling onto the floor. He set her on the toilet seat. She groaned as her feet naturally landed on the floor. Not even the pain and weakness stopped her from going to the bathroom.

  Anders stood beside her, stroking her hair. She leaned her head against his hip. Her body felt like a newborn baby. Weak and uncoordinated, she could barely connect her thoughts.

  Once she finished, she looked at the toilet paper roll and knew she wouldn't be able to manage.

  As if reading her thoughts, Anders wound the paper around his hand, reached between her l
egs, and did the job for her without a word. Embarrassment warmed her face.

  "Thank you," she whispered.

  All business, he carried her back to the living room. She stopped him from putting her on the bear skin rug.

  "I want to sit on the couch," she said, hoping the prone position would take the dullness consuming her away.

  He put her on the cushion and recovered her with the blanket. She looked up into his eyes. "Can you bring me a sweatshirt and a pair of joggers?"

  Quietly, he left the room. She looked around, trying to find hints of what happened last night. So much of what she remembered came to her in little snatches of time, she wasn't sure if she dreamed them or lived them.

  Nothing was out of place in the room. There was no evidence of Quint or Mark being around. Dr. Warner's bag sat on the floor by the bear skin rug, and she assumed he was staying in the guest room or maybe in one of the cabins close by—Anders would demand that he take care of her since she remembered refusing to go to the hospital.

  She frowned. Why did she keep seeing Mark and Quint holding someone?

  The depression in the room left her skin cold. She looked down at her hands. Last night, she couldn't feel anything. Now, she felt everything. The soft texture of the blanket. The warm temperature of the room.

  Her skin hurt to bend her fingers, and her hands were swollen. She hadn't looked at her feet, but going from the feel of them, they were in the same condition.

  Anders returned with her clothes and helped her slip her top over her head. She lifted her feet, and the mottled red and white skin left her gasping.

  "It's going to be okay." He worked the waist of her joggers under her butt. "Dr. Warner has mentioned that's what he expected your feet to look like."

  Feeling useless, she sighed. The comfort of having her body covered helped her believe his promise and pretended things were normal.

  "Dr. Warner will be out in a few minutes." He sat beside her. "He rested through the night in the guest room when he wasn't taking care of you.

  She leaned her head against his shoulder. "Where are Quint and Mark? I remember them coming last night."

  His body hardened even more. She lifted her head and looked at him. He was keeping something from her.

  "Did Mac...?" Her heart pounded in her chest. "Did he hurt them, too?"

  Anders raised his arm and gathered her to his side. "We'll talk about what happened when we're alone."

  "You always say that," she mumbled, feeling disconnected from everything.

  A heaviness, much like the cold, heavy snow that'd covered her last night, came over her. She shivered. Her life had changed in a matter of minutes.

  She'd been right all the months she'd been with Anders that something was wrong. That he was hiding something from her.

  Dr. Warner walked into the room. "It's good to see you sitting up, Ms. Iliana."

  She pressed against Anders' side. Others threatened to take her away from him. Mac almost succeeded. Dr. Warner wanted to take her to the hospital. She wasn't going anywhere.

  The doctor lifted her feet and mm hm'd his way through inspecting each toe and the skin on the soles. She flinched with the amplified pain radiating up her legs.

  "The good news is I see no signs of frostbite. No skin turning black, which means the risk of infection is no longer a concern." Dr. Warner moved to her hands.

  Iliana braced for pain.

  "What's the bad news?" asked Anders, holding Iliana tighter.

  "Your hands and feet have frostnip, and you're starting to show signs of chilblains which is the reason for the swelling." Dr. Warner straightened. "Both are highly treatable at home and over the next couple weeks should heal completely, but you're going to have some pain that will need to be managed with a prescription for the next three or four days. You might develop blisters—which I don't want you to pop. If they tear, I'll leave you some antibiotic cream you can use with some bandages."

  "Can I walk?" she asked.

  "Yes, but don't overdo it. Always wear slippers or a couple pair of socks instead of shoes. Do not walk barefooted." Dr. Warner looked over his glasses at her. "You're a lucky, young lady. Next time you go outside in the winter in Montana, dress accordingly."

  "She's going to be okay?" Anders deep voice spoke her fears.

  Dr. Warner nodded. "Yes. She's good enough, she doesn't need me hovering around her round the clock. If you have any concerns or her pain becomes intolerable with the medication I've left her, call me. I'll check in on her this evening if I don't hear anything from you."

  Anders shifted to stand, and Dr. Warner focused on him. "If you don't mind walking me to the door..."

  Anders kissed Iliana, stood, and went out of the room. Iliana sprawled her fingers, testing her own body. She couldn't shake the out of body detachment. It was hard to believe only last night Mac had forced her up on the mountain.

  She looked across the room, out the window, the blue sky a disillusion that the weather had warmed. It would be colder without the snow filling the sky.

  Anders returned with a thick pair of socks. "I thought it would be easier to wear mine. That way the material is loose against your feet and doesn't rub your skin."

  "Thanks." She held out her feet.

  He took such gentle care of her for a man his size. She probably disappointed him, but if she would've known Mac's intentions, she never would've left the upstairs to go looking for Anders.

  "I've messed up the Lair's entertainment schedule." She sighed. "I don't know how long it's going to take me to squeeze my feet into a pair of heels or even sneakers."

  "Don't worry about singing. Don't worry about anything that has to do with Stone Lair." His voice came out harsh and deep. "I have more important things to think about right now, and you're my number one concern."

  There it was again. A sense that he was hiding something from her.

  His phone beeped. He looked at the screen, typed, and slipped the cell in his pocket.

  "We need to talk," he said.

  For the first time, she noticed his hands shaking. Worried, she tried to scoot to the edge of the couch and winced.

  "Damn, Il. Don't move." He ran his hands through his hair. "Mark and Quint are here. They brought Will with them."

  "Why?" she asked.

  He wove his fingers together and locked his hands behind his neck and closed his eyes. "You were right."

  "About?"

  "Everything," he said.

  "W-what?" She raised her hands and stopped. "It was Mac. He shot you, didn't he?"

  He shook his head and opened his eyes when the knock came at the door. Her pulse sped up. "Please, don't answer it. Tell me."

  "I can't do this without them. This involves all of them, too." His brows lowered and anguish flashed in his gaze. "This can't be put off, and you deserve to know everything."

  Another knock came. Anders looked between her and the door. "Please, hear me out, and then whatever you decide afterward, is up to you. I'm done."

  He's done? What did he mean? Done with her? Done with keeping secrets? Done with wanting a relationship with her?

  Her chest quaked in frustration at her body's inability to go to him.

  Anders unlocked the door and stepped aside. Mark, Will, and Quint met Anders' eyes, then looked at her before walking into the living room. A solemnness passed between them all, and she remembered the body two of them carried to the door last night.

  One of them was missing.

  Two-crow.

  Chapter 42

  Quint, Will, and Mark stood behind the couch. Anders took in their anger, their frustration, and the sadness that dominated over everything. Last night, after they'd found Two-crow and Iliana had fallen asleep, he'd informed the others that he would no longer keep his past a secret from her.

  He couldn't hurt Iliana anymore. She'd almost died on that mountain, and now Two-crow was dead. Out of the six of them who were held captive in Mexico, only four remained.

 
Not knowing where to start, he squatted in front of Iliana. He needed to face them all when he explained to her why she'd suffered at the hands of Mac.

  "You're scaring me," she whispered. "What happened to Two-crow?"

  "Last night..." He cleared his throat and put his hand on her knee. "You were used as a diversion to keep me, Quint, and Mark busy while some bad men murdered Two-crow."

  She gawked, shaking her head. He couldn't fault her for not wanting to believe a killing could happen because he had a hard time accepting that his friend was gone.

  Tears fell down her cheeks. "What's going on?"

  "All of this goes back many years." He fought against his throat closing. "Remember when I told you I grew up in the state's care?"

  She sniffed and nodded.

  "When I was around fifteen years old, I was informed I'd be going to a wilderness therapy program where they send disruptive kids. It happens a lot to kids who get shuffled from home to home, and I thought nothing of being assigned there after getting into a little trouble. Except, while I was in the van on my way there, I was blindfolded and handcuffed by the escorts." He couldn't look at the others and continued gazing at Iliana. "Soon, I wasn't alone in the van. There were other boys demanding to know where the driver was taking them and also cuffed and blindfolded. The men never took us to a wilderness excursion. We spent hours, if not days, in the van, only stopping long enough to piss on the side of the road. The whole time, we were unable to see where we were or use our hands."

  His jaw ached. He rubbed his hand over his face. All the little details of going to the bathroom outside the van and being forced to drink stale water came back to him as if it was yesterday.

  "When the men finally stopped driving, we were all put into a one-room cement building, and the blindfolds came off, and our handcuffs were unlocked." He rubbed his wrists, remembering the bruises and dried blood from trying to get loose. "Quint, Will, Mark, Two-crow, and Joney—his last name was Jones and went by Joney, were there with me." He stood. "That's the first time we met each other. We'd all been wards of the state we lived in."

  Mark walked into the kitchen. Anders backed away from Iliana and sat down on the fireplace hearth. Afraid of disappointing her, he wanted to skip the history and get to last night but he couldn't. She needed to understand how it all started and how it was going to end.