Page 60 of Beast
"What is it?" I ask.
My stomach flips, and I'm afraid to hear whatever it is he has to say. He gestures for me to follow him. Something that didn't bode well for me before, but this time, I trust his intentions aren't trickery.
I shuffle along beside him to keep up with his long strides.
"How are you with blood?" he asks.
I stop. He turns around and sighs.
"He's been hurt."
His words urge me forward again, and we are walking in tandem now. He leads me to the conservatory. The same bed where Javi first held me captive is where he now rests,motionless. It isn't until I am close that I see him.
And I gasp.
"What happened?"
His clothes are shredded. Covered in blood and gravel.
But it's his face.
His face that is no longer hidden beneath the hood. He looks like he's sleeping. But his face is battered and swollen. He's been beaten.
Repeatedly.
"Motorcycle accident," River tells me.
I turn to him and glare.
"Don't lie to me."
"What does it matter?" River barks. "Can you help him or not?"
I hesitate. Unsure of myself.
"He should be in a hospital."
Now River really does look at me like I'm stupid.
"He can't be in a hospital, Bella. He can't ever go back to a place like that. I had to drug him just to get him back here."
Relief swells inside of me- if only briefly. He's drugged, not knocked out. That is something, I guess.
But the level of his injuries is not something I should be dealing with. He could have a concussion. He could have broken bones. There could be internal bleeding. There could be a whole host of things that I can't fix. But when I look at Javi, I know River is right.
He can't go to a hospital. He won't. Not after his mother. Not after the sanitarium.
"I'll do my best," I whisper.
River nods and gestures to the chair beside the bed. It’s stacked with first aid supplies.
"I don't like to watch," he says. "Be careful of him when he wakes up. He won't be pleasant."
"You're leaving?"
"I'll just be in the kitchen.”
I nod because I guess it's better this way. I don't need him here, questioning me. Watching my every move and second guessing me when I'll be doing enough of that myself.
