area above your hip received the most damage.” He nods down to my hands. I take in the large bandages that leave my fingers exposed and shiver, remembering the nails through each one.
“How bad?” I ask as I wiggle my fingers gingerly. It hurts like hell, but I can move them all, so that has to be good, right?
“There are a lot of small bones in the hand, so there was some damage that needed repairing. They patched you up, but we have to watch you for signs of infection. The truth is you might not know the full extent of the damage until after you heal. You could make a complete recovery, or you might have some nerve damage, some numbness…” He drifts off when he takes in my face.
“We just don’t know. It will likely all be minimal. We just have to wait and see,” he tells me softly. It sucks, but I’ll deal. I’m free, that’s what matters.
“Your tattoo,” he says hesitantly, “Saint mentioned it. I’m sorry, Reign, but that’s gone.” I close my eyes as I remember the knife slicing through my skin like it was butter.
“You’ll have a nasty scar, but we can look at plastic surgery. You lost a lot of blood and had to have a transfusion, but barring any infections, they don’t foresee any long-term issues. He was surprisingly careful about removing it,” Bates says softly, but his arms squeeze me tighter, showing me he isn’t nearly as calm as he is pretending to be.
“He didn’t want to damage his bride too badly,” I groan, burying my face in his chest as I take a deep breath, psyching myself up for what I need to ask next.
“He kept drugging me. Some stuff is crystal clear, but the other stuff, not so much. It’s like a dark veil has been dropped over those memories. Did he… did he rape me?” I try to keep my voice even, but it comes out on a pain-filled whisper.
“Oh, no, baby. He didn’t touch you like that.” Bates tilts my head back, staring into my eyes with his stormy ones so I can see the truth in his words.
“I’m not saying that wasn’t his end game, but the tests say no.”
I take a relieved breath that catches in my throat. Before I can stop myself, I dissolve into tears again. Bates holds me tight, his lips pressed firmly against my brow as I purge my body.
When I’m all cried out, I stare into Bates’s troubled eyes. “Do you guys know that Garrett is Saint’s father?” I ask softly.
Bates lets out a deep sigh. “Yeah, baby, we figured it out. There is a lot we don’t know, but we know Garrett is Coil, Carnage’s old president.”
“What are the odds that I would end up at Carnage, the very place Coil—or Garrett—left?”
“Higher than you think,” a voice says, making me turn to see the door is ajar.
A second later, a man steps through and a fresh round of tears fall. Bates growls from beside me.
“Derek,” I gasp just as Bates spits out, “Flex.”
“Huh? What’s going on?”
“Flex here—or should I call you Matthew?—is Garrett’s twin brother and another man who shit all over the president patch at Carnage.”
“Oh my god!” I gasp as Derek, or whoever he is, hangs his head.
“Can I sit and explain?” he asks, indicating the chair my dad vacated.
Bates curses, but I ignore him, needing to know everything.
The door flies open, revealing an irate Priest and a furious Saint, who takes one look at Derek and grabs him around the neck.
“No, fuck no. You don’t get to come in here with your filthy lies,” Saint growls at him.
“Get off him. Let him go!” shouts a female voice, making me look back to the door again to see Tate holding back a young girl with a mass of black curly hair struggling in his arms.
“What the fuck is going on?” my father bellows from behind Tate.
For some reason, it sets me off. Big tears roll down my face as I laugh so hard my ribs hurt. Eventually, my laughter tapers off as everyone stares at me, concerned.
“Oh, don’t mind me. I’ll just lie here with holes in my hands while you all swing your dicks around,” I snap suddenly, so freaking angry.
“You,” I point at Derek, “sit.”
“You,” I point at Tate, the girl, and my father, “go and stand over there or go away. I don’t care which, but do it quietly before my head explodes. And