Page 493 of Coal Hearts

“I’m fine.” Pushing off from the wall, I went to head downstairs.

The library would be empty.

I could peruse the shelves, select a thick, brutal story, then bring it back to bed.

I’d sink into someone else’s misfortune for a change.

Only, the corridor flipped upside down, then back to front, and I found myself on my knees again.

Motherfucker.

Soft hands landed between my shoulder blades. “Come with me. I’ll stitch you up and give you something for the light-headedness.”

“I said I’m fine,” I snapped.

Perhaps if I kept saying it, it would come true.

Maybe if I believed it, I could remember how to survive without a bruised girl, a broken heart, and a soul riddled with fucking rot.

I didn’t like people caring about me.

I didn’t know how to act, how to accept it, how to deserve it.

Her temper appeared. “If it were up to me, I’d leave you to bleed out on this icy floor, but...you aren’t the boss, and the man who is the boss would gut me if I refused one of his guests the best medical care I can provide so....” She dropped to her haunches and stared me right in the face. “Get the hell up and come into my room. Hold your tongue while I sew you up, and then you can go back to bed.”

Swooping to her feet, she marched away without waiting for me. Shoving her door wide, she tapped her no-nonsense white sneaker that didn’t look so white anymore. “I’m tired and need to go to bed before a crazy day in a few hours. Now, Master H.”

Cursing under my breath, I obeyed her for reasons unknown.

It took all my strength to climb to my feet; I wobbled as I entered her rooms.

I immediately looked at where I’d placed Peter.

The white sheet-covered table was ominously empty.

I swallowed hard. “Did he...did he die?”

“Who?” Her eyebrows knitted together. “Who died?”

I hated that I’d asked. That I’d shown I cared. “Peter. He’s gone.”

“Ah, yes.” She nodded. “He’s resting in Rose’s room down the hall. I don’t have any other beds available downstairs, and he’s not out of the woods yet. Rose agreed to keep a careful eye on him while I was supposed to catch up on some sleep.” She sighed heavily and marched to her cupboard of tricks. “Seeing as Ily is in the best possible place right now, I suppose that means I only have one more patient to treat, and then I can call quits on this awful, awful day. Now, sit down and let me sew you up so I can go to bloody bed.”

Her attitude made my hackles rise, but...I had no energy to refuse her.

I didn’t take the table, though.

The memory of Peter’s hand bubbling in that bowl of antiseptic made my already delicate stomach extra queasy.

Cutting past the couch and coffee table, I headed toward the small dining table pressed against a window. Pulling out a wooden chair, I sat heavily and looked at the view. This angle focused more on the ocean cliffs and the stars twinkling so far above.

Somewhere down there, Kyle and some other Master were sucked out to sea. Perhaps they’d been found by a shark. Hopefully, Charles had also been gobbled by the tide so all my crimes would go unseen.

Noises echoed behind me as the doctor gathered whatever torture devices she needed, then joined me at the table.

Neither of us spoke as she motioned for me to slip the dressing gown off my injured side. She sucked in a breath as she noticed my colourful ribs, but her hands were steady as she unwrapped my self-administered bandage, then opened a similar packet to the one I’d found in our supplies.

Threading surgical thread through a wickedly sharp needle, her face etched with concentration. Wiping my slashed arm with stingy fluid, she grabbed a head torch from her supplies and jammed it on her head. The light blinded me as she leaned in and studied my wound.