Page 170 of Knot To Be
All I can keep telling myself is that she’s alive. There’s blood running down her legs from being violated, two knives still embedded in her body as if she’s a hunk of meat, and suddenly my pep talk isn't all that reassuring.
I don’t know how we’re supposed to help her move past this. Not to mention the trauma we’re facing or the fact that my brother may not come back from going feral. He’s laying outside on the ground, unconscious due to the pain he felt from Rosalia. I can’t imagine how he managed to stay on his feet for this long after seeing some of the damage inflicted on Rosalia.
“Dario.”
My name pulls me out of my thoughts like a gun shot, and I gasp as I take a breath. Somehow, I’d stopped fucking breathing.
So damn stupid.Get it together.
Pep talks don’t do fuck all for me as I step forward to see Rosalia’s body looks like a mummy. Pulling a knife from my belt, I put my gun away and begin to cut the leather cuffs holding Rosalia’s arms and legs to the table. They’re locked in a way that I can’t open, and this is the easiest way to cut her loose.
“Yes,” I rasp, needing to say something.
“I’m going to have you carry her out. What’s the plan for treatment? I’m not going to be able to stitch all of these wounds up myself in the speed it’ll be needed. We need the hospital,” Riley says.
“No hospital,” Verona whispers, pulling her phone from her pocket as she stands. She takes a photo and sends it to someone, watching the screen as she waits for a response. “Dr. Walsh willmeet us at our home in the next fifteen minutes. He’ll help you sew her up.”
“Who the fuck is that?” Riley asks, pulling a thermal blanket from his bag to cover Rosalia with. I ignore the blood as Riley carefully lifts her body, and I take her from him so I can cradle her. Her body trembles as she shivers from shock, and her skin is clammy where I can touch it. She’s on her stomach and the hold is awkward, but it’ll allow us to move.
“Her personal physician,” Verona grunts, her footsteps falling into place as I begin walking. Pablo is at my side, his hands lifting her legs so they don’t hang, and we work together by turning sideways to get through doorways.
Easton jogs up to us as we move swiftly, and he asks us status questions so we won’t need to deal with the police. After hoping and waiting, everything feels as if it’s moving faster than humanly possible.
“We’re taking her home,” Verona explains. “Her physician agreed to treat her there.”
“I don’t know who the fuck this person is,” Riley growls as he trails us. “How do we know he’s reputable?”
“The old man’s conscience weighs heavily and insists that he not fail Rosalia,” Pablo mutters. “He’s very good with a needle and thread. If you can’t get behind this, then you’re part of the problem.”
“He’s right, Riley. This isn’t going any other way,” Easton says.
“Fuck. I’ll go with you,” he promises as we walk out of the building.
“I’ll make sure the police do their job and take care of the crime scene,” Easton promises.
“There’s a lot of blood, Easton,” I rasp. “Make sure no one takes any of it.”
Swallowing hard at the implication of my words, he shoves open the outer door and holds it so that we can pass through. There’s a lot of anomalies in Rosalia’s blood that people could want to duplicate. Despite what others have done, she’s not a goddamned science experiment.
“I’ll take care of it. I’ll come by your house later. The police commissioner is barking at me for inappropriate use of resources.”
“Fuck him,” Verona grunts. I blink at her words even as my lips twitch. Maybe she’s not as much of a Disney princess as we all pretend she is.
“He’s got a pimpled ass. I’d much rather not,” Easton says, trying and failing at levity. “Be safe, guys. Rosalia, stop scaring everyone, sweetheart. Show everyone how strong you are.”
In a very short amount of time, she’s become important to a lot of people. My feet move us away from the warehouse of horrors, and I can see Nico holding his head in his hands as he sits on the ground.
“We’re out!!” I yell, heading out to the street where our car is. Riley is already running ahead of us with Pablo to get the trunk situated for Rosalia, and I have to fight through the waves of gratitude I feel.
We have friends, even if they didn’t like us to start with. I have to admit we don’t deserve them, but I plan to some day be worthy of their kindness.
Verona takes Pablo’s place to hold our omega’s legs while Ciro helps Nico to his feet. Somehow, my brother finds a way to run toward us, breathing hard as his trembling fingers search for a pulse at Rosalia’s throat.
She’s all bundled up like a reflective burrito, but it’s keeping her safe until we can get her help.
“If you felt even a tenth of this, I don’t know how you’re alive,” I confess.
“She was stabbed?” Nico asks. He can’t see what’s underneath the layers of material.
