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Numbness spread down from the top of Thane's head, through his face and neck. He swayed, then something hit him, knocked him back as a dull bang registered. Down, down, down. He stared blankly at the ceiling for a moment before it all went dark.
***
Chapter Sixteen
When help arrived, Connie curled herself into the corner and kept quiet.
Evan had beaten her if she made even the slightest noise he could construe as a complaint, so she'd learned to keep her head down and her mouth shut. Fading into the background wasn't as easy as she recalled, not when Jasper kept checking on her. It was hard to stop her teeth clattering together like a pair of castanets, but she forced her jaw into stillness to avoid more questions.
She was in shock—she was lucid enough to accept that—but she was a mess. Half of herself had regressed back to a timeline where Evan ruled over her with an iron fist and agony, while the other half struggled to remember exactly what had happened. There were blank spots in her memory, things she didn't want to think about. Things the men in the room would want to know.
It didn't matter that their faces were kind, or that they said they were there to help. Just Jasper at first. Sweet, protective Jasper assessing the situation, making phone calls. As time ticked past, more people arrived to witness her humiliation.
Somehow, she'd ended up huddled in the corner of the living room, away from the bodies sprawled lifelessly in garish puddles of red. Could she recall how she'd gotten there? No. Arms around her knees, she watched with detached interest as men worked on those bodies, trying to bring them back to life. She didn't move a muscle as one corpse was lifted into a black bag, zipped up, and carried out of the house at Atticus's command.
Jasper's blond head was bowed as he kneeled next to the second body, his hands busy and bloody. Two of the men she didn't know copied his position, obeying his every order as he gave it. Tubes led from the remaining body to a stand erected solely for the purpose of hanging plastic bags high in the air.
Doctor Connie understood what was happening.
Shocked Connie didn't care.
“Connie, at least let me put a blanket around you. You’re shaking.”
She flinched and hugged herself tighter. Twice already, she'd been approached by members of Atticus's team. One had even gone so far as to touch her knee with his fingertips as he crouched in front of her. She couldn't remember exactly what had happened after that, but her right foot was now bruised.
“Just leave me alone, Atticus.” She couldn’t look at him, not when there would be pity in his eyes. “I’ll be fine.”
Jasper pressed something against the body's shoulder and waited for one of the others to take his place in putting pressure on it. He rose and stripped off his gloves, coming over to mirror Atticus’s crouched position on the other side of her. “Hey, sweetheart. Sorry it's taken me so long to get back to you.”
Warily, Connie watched his hands, his body language. When he moved too quickly, she pressed herself further into the corner, prepared to attack if he crossed her unspoken boundary line.
“Thane's alive. He's lost a lot of blood, but I've got him on fluids, packed the wound, and we'll get him to the hospital as soon as the ambulance arrives. We’re going to take you with him. You've taken a hell of a beating and you're naked.” Pale blue eyes narrowed. He reached out to touch her cheek, then scowled when she slapped his hand away. “Goddamn it. Sweetheart, are you hurt?”
Although she wanted to curl herself into a smaller ball and fade away under the scrutiny of her friends, Connie knew it was the worst thing she could do. These were two of the most tenacious men in her life, and they wouldn't hesitate to get answers from her. Answers she didn't have.
“I’m fine,” she repeated, fighting to keep her voice steady. “Nothing’s broken, I’m just bruised, and my emotions are a little…raw.” Damn it, her voice cracked. “I’d appreciate some space…and the blanket.”
This time, when Jasper reached out and set his hand on her thigh, Connie bared her teeth and snarled. Her depth perception was skewed by the swelling around her eyes, possibly the hard hits to her head, but when she clawed at him, her nails bit into his skin.
Jasper sighed and extricated his hand from her fingernails before scrubbing it over his face. Pushing to his feet, he murmured, “You’re not fine, Connie. Will you at least let me examine where it hurts?”
Did he not understand she hurt everywhere? Her stomach and ribs ached something fierce, but it was her head causing her the most pain. The migraine continued to simmer beneath the injuries, turning her into one big throbbing mess.
“She's not going to the ER, Jasper. Neither is Thane. We have the facilities at HQ to accommodate them both, and I have a couple of doctors I can call on to help. I'll make sure they're waiting for us by the time we return to base.” Atticus pulled out his phone and tapped something out quickly, then shoved it back in his pocket. “All right, little sub, you’re gonna stand up with me now, okay? You've had a really shitty morning, and it's not going to get any better, but being cold and scared won't help. Jasper's got some meds that will help with the pain and the contusions. And,” he crooned persuasively, “a soft, warm blanket with your name on it.”
Air whistled nervously down her nose in quick bursts, giving her anxiety away. She wanted the blanket, but no one was touching her. No one was drugging her. The temptation to stick her thumb in her mouth and suck was primal and strong. Self-soothing, self-comfort.
“That fucker is not going to lay another hand on you, Con. Thane took care of him.”
No. She didn't want any more pain. Her head and neck were already screeching for mercy, and the migraine was promising unbridled retribution when it reached its peak.
Here and now, she was ninety-nine percent certain she hadn’t been raped. She was aware of what that kind of assault left her body feeling like, and although the familiar pain of a thorough beating gnawed at her, she didn’t feel dirty and used. Not the way she would if Guthrie had done his worst.
Her eyes skipped past Atticus, past Jasper, and landed on the man still laid out on the floor. Thane. Jasper said he was still alive, so she had to believe it was true. J was good at his job, he'd know better than anyone how to take care of her lover. The man who'd saved her more than once.
Connie closed her eyes and turned her face away, her control slipping far enough from her reach that her teeth began to chatter. Cold settled in her bones, and she wondered if she'd ever feel warm again. It had taken her ten years to find happiness and the light in the dark after Evan, only for her to be plunged back into the black.
“Get the meds, J. Just enough to smooth out the rough edges. I hate seeing her in pain.”
