Page 16 of Viking

CHAPTER TWELVE

Arie

Iwake in an unfamiliarroom and blink at the woman sitting at the end of the bed. My wedding gown is pushed up around my hips, my legs on display and spread as she examines me the way the physician on the island did. Only, his touches weren’t methodical and clinical, they were rough and intimate, as if he enjoyed spreading his fingers inside me.

“Holy shit, you scared the dickens outta me!”

I clamp my legs together and she holds her hands in front of her, palms facing forward.

“Okay, you waking up right at this minute is not ideal. I know how this looks, but my name is Calamity Jane—or CJ for short. I’m a friend of the club and a nurse, and I promise I’m not up to no funny business. I’m just checking your injuries.” She puffs out her cheeks and sighs, and then she gives me a tight smile. “You sure have a lot of scars.”

I attempt to sit up, but my entire body hurts. Something tugs at my hand—a sharp pain—and I stare at the tube taped to my skin. I pull at it, but she covers my hands with her gloved ones.

“No. no. It’s just fluids. It won’t hurt you,” Calamity Jane says. Her accent is strange, different from the men in the vehicle, smoother somehow. “Don’t pull it out, you could hurt yourself. You lost a lot of fluids and you’re dehydrated.”

I frown, not knowing what she means. I almost drown in the Mother Sea. How can I have lost fluids?

“You don’t talk much, do ya?”

I swallow hard, open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I try again, to speak, to say anything, but my throat is like razor blades, fire and pain. I clutch at my neck, and the woman grabs my hands and gently pries them apart.

“It’s okay, honey. You’ve been through a lot. Don’t feel you have to say anything.” She pats my hand and places them on the bed by my side. “You probably took in a lot of salt water. Vike said he found you washed up on the beach.”

Vike? Who is Vike?

“Viking?” she says, and a smile curls the corners of her mouth. “The President of this MC that you tried to murder in the back of a van?”

I grimace. What is an MC? That sounds important, and it seems I have offended the man in charge. What punishment will he have in store for me?

“Don’t worry, honey. He’s not holding it against you ... not sure why.”

What does that mean? Where am I?

“So, it’s hard to know without scans and a full blood workup, but I think for the most part, you’re okay. A little banged up. I’ve already treated your feet and legs for the worst of the wounds, but I’d like to talk to you about these scars, honey. Did you ... did you run from the people who did this? Is that how you got to the beach?”

I swallow hard, my throat feeling like fire. I don’t know this woman. I don’t know where I am, and even though I found her between my legs, her touch doesn’t feel frightening or wrong, like the Brothers’ or the Prophet’s touch. Her eyes are kind, her hands gentle, even if her skin is decorated with ink and her hair is a strange shade of black with dark blue tones.

I nod and Calamity Jane gives me a small smile.

“Are they going to be looking for you?”

I nod again.

“Okay, darlin’. Where you come from—is it a big place, small? Was someone keeping you against your will?” She asks. “You know what, don’t strain your voice. Vike must have a piece of paper around here somewhere. You can just write down anything you want to tell me.”

I frown and shake my head, but she’s already up and ripping off her gloves. She throws them in the waste disposal and searches the room for a piece of paper. She hands me a pen and a long strip of paper with words and numbers printed on it. I turn it over and stare at the paper.

“Honey, can you not write?”

Shame colors my cheeks. Only the Brotherhood may use writing tools to communicate. Young boys are given books with words and pictures which we may not see, but girls may never write or read on the island. It is strictly forbidden.

“Holy shit.” Calamity sits heavily on the edge of the bed. “Where the hell have they been hiding you?”

---