Page 15 of Mercy (The Sins Trilogy 3)
Chapter Six
Ivy
A nurse takes me to one room after another. Without having to wait, I’m scanned over and over again. I had no idea so many scans were available, despite the fact that I’ve spent a lot of time in hospitals.
The doctors and nurses are brisk and professional. Nobody’s particularly chatty. For that, I’m grateful. I don’t know what I’d say if they tried.
Finally they finish with the scans, and I change into my clothes and wait in a room for one of the doctors to give me the results.
Tell me I’m fine. Tell me I’m fine. I don’t think I could bear to spend the night here. The unfamiliar surroundings, the astringent air, the smell of disinfectant… I need something familiar and comforting tonight.
Every time I close my eyes, I see the SUV heading toward me. Tony. My body tenses, reliving the mild surprise, then utter shock and horror as the vehicle closes in.
The bitter taste of fear floods my mouth. Tony warned me about the danger. So did Bobbi. But I never understood, not really. The threat sounded so distant and unlikely.
But it’s not. It’s frighteningly real. My body braces for impact as though I’m about to hit the ground with Tony. I can still feel the abrasive slide of freshly cut grass on my skin. Tony’s body wrapped around mine. If he’d been even a moment later, we would’ve been pinned at the waist between Bobbi’s Escalade and the SUV. Then…even if we lived, we would’ve been crippled or worse.
If careless driving was all it was—if the driver had stopped then—I could dismissed it as a someone not paying attention. But the SUV backed up. Came for us again. If Bobbi hadn’t taken action, Tony and I wouldn’t still be breathing.
My God.
More tremors run through me. I don’t think I can ever forget the terror of knowing somebody wants me dead that badly. Or that he doesn’t care about collateral damage.
No wonder Tony lied about who I am. No wonder he got everyone else to participate. It wasn’t about staging some Let’s Make an Idiot Out of Ivy show. It was about protecting me. Tony’s memory of losing me is very real to him, the way tonight’s experience is absolutely visceral for me. And I would do anything to avoid going through it again.
Including lying.
I put my good hand, which is trembling badly, over my cold cheek. I’m such a hypocrite to feel this way after lashing out at Tony for his deception. But I’m too shaken up to pretend I’m more upright and honest than everyone else.
Why was I such a hard-ass about it with Tony? Why didn’t I think maybe he had no choice but to lie?
He didn’t hesitate even for a second when the car came at me. If he had slower reflexes, Tony would’ve been killed tonight. He wasn’t just saying it when he told me repeatedly how much I meant to him, how he’ll always put me—my needs and safety—above his own.
Remorse beats through the fear. I should’ve been more understanding. Given him the benefit of the doubt.
Finally, the doctor comes in. His hair is sticking up like plugging a finger into a live socket is part of his grooming routine, but the pale blue eyes behind gold-rimmed glasses are sharp and assessing. Unlike Dr. Young, he’s dressed without any care to fashion. His teal and purple shirt clashes horribly with mustard-colored pants. His loafers are an odd non-color somewhere between pea green and muddy brown. He asks me a few questions, and I manage calm enough answers, even though the horror of the night keeps playing in a loop.
He writes me a prescription and tells me I’m free to go.
I step out and don’t see Tony or Bobbi. Maybe one of the nurses can tell me if they’re still being scanned. I start walking toward the nurses’ station I saw on my way to the room, my steps careful. I look over my shoulder, wondering if the SUV driver is here, waiting among the people in molded plastic chairs.
He could be. He came out of nowhere earlier. He could be pretending to be a patient…
“Ivy.”
I scream, my hands coming up defensively. My legs are shaking so hard that I almost collapse.
“Christ.” Big, strong hands hold me up.
I blink a few times, my panicked brain too scrambled to think coherently. My heart starts to slow once I realize it’s Tony holding me. TJ is right next to him.
Tony’s in the same shirt and pants, stained with dirt and grass. A huge Band-Aid covers his right elbow, and I see other scrapes and bruises on him. Concern fills his eyes as they search my face, the pad of his thumb brushing over my cheek.
“Are you okay?” he asks. “What did the doctor say?”
“I’m fine. He said I’m fine. You just scared me. I didn’t see you.”
“Walk facing forward,” TJ says in a gravelly voice. His thick eyebrows pinch together, and that’s probably all Tony’s generally antisocial Visigoth is going to say.
