Page 143 of Stutter

“Thank you.” She speaks so clearly, although her voice is still hoarse from screaming when we found her. Screams that echoed and ricocheted off those grimy walls until I took it uponmyself to lift and carry her up those filthy stairs, away from the aftermath. She weighs nothing and I hate it.

“I love you so goddamn much, Little Bird. So much. I told you once not barred windows nor steel doors… There is not a goddamn thing on this earth that could ever keep me from you. Morals be damned, mon Coeur, I love you with all I am.” I breathe into her, feeling my heart finally beat properly in my ribcage. I plant a kiss to her forehead, her temple, her cheek, her lips, and stay there for only a moment so she can feel my love.

I need to get this scent off of her immediately.

It’s making me want to hurl.

“Please, Damon. Let me hold her now.” Jonas’ voice cracks. He straightens up, sitting in the seat caddy corner to me, and holds out his arms. She goes to him, but Maverick doesn’t let go of her feet. He hasn’t said a word. Just covers her toes with his hands and bows his head.

“Are you okay?”

He nods. “There’s a bullet lodged in the tip of my shoulder and there is going to be so much for me to unpack in therapy.” He jokes, but he’s serious.

“There’s a bullet lodged in your shoulder?” Jonas repeats.

Maverick nods.

“Is okay,” Ivan says from the driver’s seat. “We almost to destination.”

Raven looks petrified.

“Don’t worry, Little Bird. We won’t be around people. I’m having Ivan take us to my family's manor.”

“You have a fucking manor?” Maverick coughs, grimacing when Ivan goes over a bump in the road.

I raise my eyebrows quickly and point to myself. “Old money, long line of Oxford graduates and physicians.” I remind him. “The kind of person you love to hate, remember?” Mav rolls his eyes, but I continue. “It stayed partially staffed and now that my father is back over the pond, it’s fully stocked with food and medical supplies. I can get that bullet out of your shoulder, fix us all up, help our girl detox, feed and hydrate us. I’ve alreadysent a message to the house manager. She’s sent one of the maids to get our… brand of items and clothes in our size.”

The important one being Amourette's scent and to have her comfortable in clothes she’ll like.

“When did you do all of this?” Maverick asks, a slight groan when the van lurches forward.

“Before we were even on the plane.”

Jonas smiles at me, twinkle back in his eye, skin going back to its usual color even though we're all still caked in blood. “Told you. He’sproactive.”

________

Raven is sitting beside a shirtless Maverick, holding his hand and he’s getting pale from blood loss and shock.

“I can feel it. It’s just under the surface,” he grunts, pressing his fingers around the wound.

I nod, grabbing the sterilized utensils I need along with the isopropyl alcohol, slipping on surgical gloves, then drench the gauze with it. “Ready?”

“Hurry the fuck up – Jesus fucking Christ,motherfucker.” He chokes, holding himself steady while I dig out the bullet while Jonas holds a flashlight for me so I can see it. It clinks in the bowl and Maverick thanks me with a rushed exhale while I finishing plucking out the debris, stitch him up then prep him and hook him up to an IV bag with antibiotics in the living room so he can sit comfortably and hopefully rest in the recliners I have set up like a triage room in the living area. All that’s missing is the curtains to separate them.

We will never separate ever again.

“Rest.” Is all I say, handing him a few painkillers.

It takes me no time to disinfect and stitch up my pup. When he kisses me, his lips taste a little salty, but I don’t let it linger. I know he’s feeling so many rushing emotions, same as I am. But I hook him up to an IV bag and have him settle on the recliner across from Maverick and give him the same order to rest along with a painkiller.

I do the same with Ivan, thanking him, to which he shrugs at me and jerks his chin to Jonas, telling me he was just doing his job.

I turn to my love and grab her hand, tugging her behind me so I can check her and myself out in the bathroom in front of a mirror.

The tip of my ear is grazed and so is my arm, but I won’t need stitches, just some skin glue. But all of that can wait. Now that she and I are alone, I can ask the questions I would normally ask a patient in private. I let out a breath.

“Did he touch you?”

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