Page 54 of Fearless

“I can wait. So, if you won’t tell me that, then tell me this.” McAlister glanced in his rearview mirror and asked, “How the hell did you mess things up with Serena?”

Another man might have been offended, but another man wouldn’t have been as stupid as he’d been. The story was a long and arduous one and not one he wanted to tell. Giving the truthful and shorter answer, he said, “I was an idiot.”

McAlister nodded slowly. Sean didn’t know if he was agreeing with him or what. Not that it mattered. Sean knew full well that all of the problems between him and Serena were on him. Serena was beautiful, inside and out, and he would spend the rest of his life regretting what he had done. But for right now, he had only one focus, and that was to bring her home.

“Donavan, you awake?”

Sean jerked at the sound of the gruff voice, shaking his head to clear the clutter. They’d arrived at the second safe house a couple of hours ago. The minute he’d gotten inside, he’d dropped onto the closest sofa, his last dregs of energy completely gone. Since then, he’d been in and out of consciousness. Awake, his imagination flooded with images of what might be happening to Serena. Asleep, nightmares plagued him with scenes of the same torture he’d been put through. As much as he told himself that she was too valuable to them to do such things, he couldn’t stop thinking the worst.

Gritting his teeth against the ongoing pain in his body, he sat up and rubbed his hand over his face. A large mug of coffee appeared in front of him. “Figured you could use this.”

“Thanks.” Sean took a swallow of the hot brew, appreciating both its strength and its heat.

“Drake called. He and Stryker are about twenty minutes out.”

Giving him time to throw some water on his face, relieve his bladder, and down a gallon of coffee. He had a lot of things to say, plans to make, and, yeah, a lot of apologizing.

Finishing off the coffee, he placed it on the table beside him and forced himself to rise. Surprising him once again, McAlister stood in front of him, this time with a set of crutches. “These might help.”

“Definitely.”

“We’re about the same size, so I left some sweats on the bathroom counter.”

That just showed how out of it he still was. He’d given absolutely no thought to the fact that other than a thin hospital gown and the blanket he’d been wearing like a toga, he was naked.

“Thanks,” Sean said gruffly.

Using the crutches, he made his way slowly to the bathroom McAlister had pointed out. Though every part of his body throbbed with pain, just being vertical and walking, however slowly, to the john on his own was a blessing. Ignoring the shakiness and weakness, he made it across the room and relished the slamming of the bathroom door behind him—his first moment of privacy in weeks.

After taking care of his immediate needs, he hobbled to the sink and groaned at the image in the mirror. He’d looked like hell many times in his life, but this might be the worst yet. His swollen face was a multitude of colors, his eyes bloodshot. Someone at the hospital had been kind enough to shave the beard that had grown over several weeks, so the deep groove where a knife had slashed his face during one of his many interrogations was revealed. It hadn’t been stitched up, and he was surprised it hadn’t become infected. It had, however, left a jagged scar.

A new scar was the least of his troubles.

He splashed water on his face, feeling more alert with each handful. The drugs he’d been given, both antibiotics and painkillers, were going a long way in making him feel more human.

He dampened a washcloth and rubbed down his body as best he could. He likely smelled like a wild animal, but this would have to do. Still, even that small amount of cleaning aided him in being more alert.

Gritting his teeth, he pulled on the sweats McAlister had loaned him.

“Donavan,” McAlister called out, “they’re here.”

Ash and Liam had arrived. He hadn’t seen the two men in over a year and figured they’d be pissed as hell at him. He couldn’t blame them. He’d left them in the lurch, without so much as an explanation or apology. He had a lot to make up for, but the number one priority for all of them would be getting Serena out of that hellhole.

He opened the door and faced the two men standing in the middle of the room. Their arms were crossed, their big bodies were tense, and their faces wore the exact expression he’d expected. Yeah, he had a lot of explaining to do.

“You look like crap,” Stryker said.

“Good to see you, too, Liam.”

“How badly are you hurt?” Ash asked.

“Bum leg that’ll take a while to heal. A few sore ribs. Otherwise, mostly bruises.”

“Good,” Ash said. “Now sit down before you fall down and tell me what the hell happened.”

McAlister rolled a chair toward him. Sean nodded his thanks and eased into it, cursing the bastards who’d done everything they could to destroy his body as well as his spirit.

“Short version is, I found out my stepmother was being scammed—unfortunately, not until after she died. I went after the culprits. Turned out to be a trap for me.”