Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 42863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
“Tank is alive,” she informed us. I sobbed then, tears pouring down my cheeks as my shoulders sagged in relief. “He’s in bad shape, but he’s going to be okay. Holden and Vern are rushing him to the emergency room now, and I’ve been given orders to take you two there.”
I rushed to my feet, the blanket falling from around my shoulders, and Beck quickly followed, our hands still latched together. Reina came out of the kitchen. “I’ve got the kids,” she told Adelaide. “Go.”
“I owe you one,” Adelaide told her as she headed toward the clubhouse doors, Beck and I right on her heels. She grabbed a set of keys off the hook by the door.
“You don’t owe me shit,” Reina called her. “Get those two to their man.”
“How bad is he?” Beck asked Adelaide once we were on the highway. My hand was growing sweaty in his, but I couldn’t bring myself to let go. It was almost as if I did, I might fall the fuck apart. Beck was my lifeline, and I needed to hold myself together for Tank’s sake.
He was alive. He was safe now. And he needed to be able to lean on me and Beck just as we’d leaned on him after he’d rescued us.
“I don’t know,” Adelaide told us as she hit the indicator to turn onto the main highway. “I just know he’s in a bit of a bad shape and being rushed to the ER, though Vern doesn’t think it’s anything serious.”
“Vern’s not a doctor,” I said bitterly.
Adelaide shook her head. “Vern has his own shit he comes from, and he knows how to medically treat people as well as he knows how to drive ink into someone’s skin. If he says it’s nothing serious, I trust him.” She glanced at me through the rearview mirror attached to the windshield. “You should, too, Clarke. These men will never lie to any of us.”
Beck pressed a kiss to my temple. “He’s going to be okay,” he tried soothing me. But he and I both knew I wouldn’t believe it until I saw it with my own eyes.
I knew just how much could happen in a mere two weeks, which meant Tank could be severely hurt.
Vern was waiting for us when we walked through the emergency room doors. Holden was handing a clipboard to the woman in scrubs working the front desk. Vern offered us small smiles. “They’ll let us back in a few minutes—just as soon as they’re done stitching him up and getting some antibiotics in his system.” Beck dropped my hand, then wound his arm around my waist, tugging me against his side. I curled my fingers into his shirt, my chest beginning to ache. “I want to prepare you two for what’ll be waiting on you.”
“Oh, God,” I choked out.
“Easy, baby,” Beck rumbled, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of my head. He nodded once at Vern. “Go on.”
“He’s not going to be awake,” Vern warned us. “He was coming and going throughout the drive over here. The doctor sedated him once they got him into a triage room so they could tend to his wounds without him constantly coming and going. He’s got some deep fucking cuts. The ones they bothered stitching are poorly stitched and weren’t healing properly. Tank is going to be left with scars all over his body once he finally heals. The doctors are doing what they can to prevent scarring in places they can, but they don’t have much hope without some kind of cosmetic surgery in the future, and well, I don’t think Tank will agree to that.”
A tear trailed down my cheek, my gut churning. “He’s severely malnourished and dehydrated. Looks like they only gave him the bare minimum to keep him alive and nothing more. And he…” Vern’s words trailed off for a moment, pain for Tank—for his brother—flashing across his face. “Tank was raped. Brutally. There’s a lot of tearing. He’s got a long road of recovery ahead of him.”
My face crumpled, and I sobbed, tears streaking down my cheeks. Beck turned me, pulling my face against his chest to shield me from everyone watching. I clenched his shirt in my fists, my tears soaking into his shirt, but he didn’t seem to care. He just held me tightly and rested his chin on the top of my head, letting me get it out.
Beck had been so strong these past two weeks while I’d been falling apart every night. I had no idea how he compartmentalized everything so well, but I envied him being able to do so. I wished I could compartmentalize everything I felt. It would’ve made all this so much easier to bear, but instead, I was cursed to just feel everything intensely. So intensely, it was almost too much to bear.