Page 71 of Wild Card
Catriona
I’m in the ICU for a few days. My siblings visit me often, and Callan fills me in on the daring story of my rescue.
I’m not sad either Freddie or Lorenzo are dead.
Birdie told me that after I’d passed out, Freddie had returned, and was detailing the ways in which he was going to sexually assault her when Callan, Patrick, and Gio arrived.
I’m sorry she has that memory now.
When I’m out of the ICU, Siobhan brings Kieran and his brother Connor to visit. Connor apologizes that I’d been abducted from outside his club and talks about the safety measures he’s put in place since.
“It could’ve been anywhere,” I say.
He looks dubious. “My partner does victim’s rights advocacy,” he says. “If you ever want someone to talk to?”
Maybe someday. Not now, though. When Finn visits with his sweetheart of a girlfriend, Sasha, he brings me a new phone.
“Your fans know you’re safe,” he says, flashing me a smile. “But I figure you have a lot of business to catch up on.”
I do, but I don’t feel like doing it right now. I need to process first, but I’m glad to have access to what’s going on in the world. My parents did an interview after my recovery, but I don’t listen. I don’t care to hear what my father has to say. Neither he nor my mother have stopped by, but I don’t want to see them anyway.
I don’t tell anyone how sad I am that Gio hasn’t visited. He sent me a beautiful flower arrangement—all bright red roses. He’s no doubt busy taking care of his grandmother and burying his uncle and I can’t really blame him for being distant.
But I’d still like to see him.
My doctor tells me I nearly died, and the memory of the pain I felt that night compels me to believe him. I wonder what happened to that cat. If it weren’t for Birdie confirming its presence, I would’ve thought I dreamed it up. My other injuries are nearly healed, but since I had to have an open appendectomy, I have a three-inch scar not too far from my navel. Maybe I’ll get another primrose tattooed around it. The bruising is intense, and it’s going to take me a long time to build my core strength back.
Maybe I’ll make a video series about it. I need to look on the bright side in any way I can.
“You’re getting out tomorrow,” my nurse says, checking on my scar. “You’re healing well, Catriona.” She looks at the tray table by my bed and frowns. “You haven’t been eating enough, though.”
“It’s not super appetizing,” I offer sheepishly. My siblings bring real food in whenever they can, and I eat that with gusto, but the hospital food? Wet, limp broccoli, runny applesauce, and a chicken breast a woodchipper couldn’t grind through? No thanks. I’ve put some weight back on, but I need to gain about five more pounds.
“Hmm. If you don’t eat dinner, we’ll have to keep you for an additional day. Any dinner. Doesn’t have to be this, deal?”
“Okay.”
She leaves with the tray, and I close my eyes, resting for a moment. Maybe I’ll just order take out. Sushi or something.
I can walk around now, and I try to move as much as possible, but I get tired easily. I hate it, but I’m trying to practice patience. I feel a slight breeze, like someone’s come into the room. My eyes flash open, and I’m shocked to see my father sitting in a chair next to my bed.
That terrifying hopefulness courses through me. I’m embarrassed that I desperately want him to comfort me, even after all this.
But he says nothing, just watches me with his cool blue eyes.
“Hi,” I say, finally.
He shifts forward in the chair.
“Bridget’s been having nightmares,” he says. “It’s disrupting her practice.”
“Oh.” I stare down at my hands on the white hospital blanket. Bridget painted my nails purple when she and Rory stopped by to visit last. She hadn’t said anything about nightmares, but she wouldn’t—wouldn’t want me to feel guilty about something that isn’t my fault.
Not like my father.
“That’s all you have to say?” He doesn’t raise his voice at all.
“I’m sorry she’s having nightmares.”
