Page 169 of Colt

Breaker rose to his feet. “I’ll go find Soph,” he said before disappearing.

I leaned forward just as Colt groaned again. “Freya?”

Touching his fingers, I whispered, “I’m here.”

Slowly, Colt’s eyes flickered open. “Shit,” he rasped so quietly I had to strain to catch the words. “Did I get hit by a Mack truck?”

“Nah, brother.” Cash grinned down at him. “You got hit by our dirty fightin’ dad. Do you remember?”

Colt’s ocean-blues came to meet my soft gaze. “How long have I been out?”

“About twenty-four hours, give or take,” I replied gently. “You’re gonna be okay. Sophie wants to monitor you for a couple of days, but as soon as she discharges you, we’ll leave.”

Colt’s eyes veered to Cash. “I’m sorry it turned out this way, brother.”

My brother dipped his chin. “Wasn’t your fault it went south, Colt. If Dad had fought fairly, there would’ve been a different outcome. I’m just sorry we weren’t there to talk him down.” He stood from his chair. “Gonna go get some coffees and leave you two to talk for a while.” With a loose one finger salute, he turned and stalked from the room.

My eyes roamed over Colt, greedily taking in his face, still beautiful even through the cuts and bruises marring his skin.

“I’m sorry Dad did this,” I murmured, brushing a strand of the dark blonde hair I loved so much back from his face. “I tried to help,” I whispered, tone tight with guilt. “I went to get Cash and Kit, but by the time they got to the gym it was too late.”

Colt’s eyelids fluttered. “Not your fault,” he barely whispered.

I swallowed hard, clutching his limp hand in mine. I should’ve gone straight to Cash’s room, but I worried if I went through the bar while Dad was still there, he’d have realized what I was doing and done something to stop me. I believed Bowie would protect him, but he didn’t do a damned thing. Inside I was seething, but I kept my expression blank, not wanting Colt to see how affected I was.

He blinked drowsily.

“Rest,” I said softly. “I’ll be here when you wake up. I’ll call Cara and ask her to bring some things in for you.”

Colt’s eyes fluttered closed. “Phone”, he muttered, seconds before his breathing evened out and his chest began to rise and fall rhythmically.

I took his hand, lacing our fingers together just as Sophie and Breaker entered the room.

“How you feeling, Colt? The doc asked, but he’d already fallen back to sleep. She took out her little torch again and shone it in his eyes. “Pupils are reducing in size, and it’s a good sign he’s woken up and spoken. I think we just have to give him some time and let him heal. I’ll arrange for another CT scan to make sure the bruising on his brain has reduced, but I think he’ll make a full recovery, though he may carry a scar or two.”

My shoulders slumped in relief and I silently thanked every God who existed.

“He’s too pretty anyway,” Kit said under his breath. “A scar will add some character.”

“Pot, kettle, and black spring to mind.” Soph smirked, heading for the door. “I’ll arrange that scan. Hopefully he’ll wake up again soon, and for longer.”

I bent down and grabbed the bag Kit had brought in for me. “I’ll go freshen up,” I said quietly, heading into the bathroom and closing the door behind me with a soft click.

Walking to the sink, I gazed at myself in the mirror, noting my dull eyes and sallow skin. I took my toothbrush and toothpaste from my bag and brushed my teeth thoroughly before splashing water on my face to wake up.

I’d been awake for twenty-four hours, but I couldn’t have slept, even if I wanted to. How could I when the man I loved was confined to a hospital bed with injuries inflicted on him by my own father? My eyes were sore from lack of sleep and my throat dry through crying, but the pain that took my breath away came from my aching heart.

In the space of twenty-four hours I’d almost lost Colt, but in reality I’d actually lost a father. There was no way back from this, because by hurting Colt the way he did, he’d also hurt me. Tears sprang to my eyes again, but I jutted my chin up, blinking them away. There was no point in crying, I had to pull myself together and be strong for Colt. We had a tough few days ahead of us and I needed to keep my shit together at least for now.

I finished freshening up, washing my body down and spraying deodorant, but the fresh scent couldn’t take away the bad taste in my mouth. Something was becoming clearer as the minutes marched on, and as much as it made me sad, it also left me feeling strangely liberated.

There was no way I’d forgive my dad for what he’d done, ever.

John Stone was dead to me.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Colt

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