Bound By Blood: (The Betrayed Series Book 2) (26 page)

A breathy laugh escapes me. “About as well as Noah dressing in drag. But she warmed up to it when she realized it was true.” My voice is full of reverence.

Looking up, his gaze meets mine. He nods once as he says, “You really do love her, don’t you?”

A painfully tight lump forms in my throat. Trying everything in my power to breathe around the lump, I respond, “So much, sir. It’s indescribable, really, which is why I’m terrified that I will make the same mistakes again.”

“I’m going to ignore that you called me sir. What mistake are you referring to?” He looks at me quizzically.

Swallowing hard several times, the painful lump lessens. “Sabrina and I weren’t meant to be. I know that now, so please do not think that is what this is about, because it’s not. There are no feelings there what so ever.” I stop, letting my words hang in the air. He nods once, acknowledging his understanding.

“Our marriage was one of convenience. Neither of us fit, but it was convenient to have someone to come home to. Only this job has always been the most important thing in my life. It has always come first. I did put it before my marriage. There were choices I made then . . . well, let’s just say, looking back, I’m sure that’s why Sabrina ended up pregnant with someone else’s child.” Inhaling deeply, I watch as the Colonel’s eyes narrow just a twinge.

Exhaling, I move on. “What I feel for Kai . . . It’s not the same. I’ve never felt this way before. I don’t know what I would do if I had to choose between her and my career. I don’t want to make the same mistakes. I can’t lose her . . . but I can’t lose my career, either. I’ve worked too hard to get here.” My voice is pained as my words trail off, my gaze falling to the table.

Looking up, I ask the one question that’s been plaguing me. “What happens if my one true love is the only love that I get . . . and I fail her? What do I do when I can’t find her in time?” The Colonel’s pained gaze is fixed pointedly on me.

Dragging in a slow breath, he says, “I’m going to give you some advice, son. And it would be wise for you to heed my words. I’m an old man that’s seen a lot in this life.” He stops, making sure he has my full attention.

When he sees he has it, he continues. “My daughter has been dealt a shit hand in life, not one I would have chosen, obviously. I’ve beaten myself up for years over what happened in her past. But let me tell you, the one thing I’ve always hoped for was someone to come along and wipe that smudge of darkness away. It’s something I tried and failed to do a long, long, time ago.” Silence ensues as he turns, blinking away the unshed tears.

“She’s a strong one, though. Tough as nails. She’s lucky as hell to have a man like you come along and love her as fiercely as you do. I couldn’t have chosen better if I’d have picked myself. Hell, that’s something a parent dreads most of their life: the moment their son or daughter brings home someone. Not knowing if they’re good enough, wondering if I’m going to have to use those special skills I have . . .” He pauses, letting the words hang in the air. After a moment, he chuckles, noticing my wide-eyed stare.

“Kidding, son. Kidding. As long as you don’t hurt her . . .” Glaring, he points a finger at me.

“Understood, sir.”

He smirks at me briefly before his tone becomes serious. “Don’t live with my regrets. Take all of the mistakes you made in the first marriage and learn from them. I’m going to tell you a secret I told Kylee when she was little. Knowledge is power. Use it, allow it to fuel you, and educate you. With it, you can become a formidable force, untouchable. Together, the two of you can be a powerful couple in our world, one to be reckoned with.” He nods, signaling he’s finished.

Taking a drink, he relaxes into his chair as the waitress comes over to chat with him. Knowledge, power, regret, untouchable, all hefty words that carry weight floating around my skull. Is it feasible? Can I learn from my past mistakes, putting them to use for the better? Or am I doomed to repeat my mistakes and further injure my Goddess? First things first . . . I have to get her back.

P
AIN RICOCHETS THROUGH MY ABDOMEN
, tiny lightning bolts zapping my lower belly repeatedly. Hysterically, I inhale, desperate to breathe through the pain as another twinge rips through my belly. Grunting, I roll over to my side, clutching my stomach. Pain . . . there’s so much pain. Why . . . Why am I in so much pain?

Panting, I try to sit up when another pang hits. My back bows, lifting from the mattress as a low groan is torn from my throat. The agony lasts for what seems like an eternity, one moment rolling into the next. Time stops as my thoughts spin out of control. What’s wrong with me? Something isn’t right.

Oh God, please let her be okay. I’m not sure when I started calling Violet a her. Oh God. I called her Violet. My chest constricts as a painful tightness cinches my heart. Biting down on my bottom lip, I grip a fist full of the mattress as white-hot shards of vicious agony shred my insides.

Blowing out a breath, my cheeks huff, panting with each exhale. Bracing myself on my arms, I push myself up one inch at a time. Spots pulse, flashing bright colors that dance before my eyes. Coming to a sitting position, pain rockets through my lower half. Digging my teeth into my lower lip, I fight back the tears choking me. Warmth gushes from between my legs, inundating me with hot sticky fluid.

Images of what could be happening pulse, flashing boldly through my mind. Holding my breath to avoid the scream of panic I desperately want to let out, I do the unthinkable. Squeezing my eyes shut, I silently offer up a prayer. “Please, God, let her be all right. Don’t take her away from me. She’s all I have left of him.” My whispered plea breaks my voice, cracking in the early morning air.

With quavering hands, I reach down, hesitantly touching the viscous fluid with my fingertips. First opening one eye then the other, I lean my fingers into the dim light. Gasping, I desperately try inhaling oxygen into my deprived lungs, but it’s no use. The scarlet smudge on the tips of my fingers is too much to bear.

“No!” The wail I’d fought so hard to keep hidden leaves me without a second thought. My pained cry rouses the girls from their slumber.

“What is it?” Key’s worried voice whispers. I’m frozen like a block of ice staring at the crimson smudge staining my fingers.

A shocked gasp echoes from the distance. “Oh no!” Are’s concerned voice breaks into my startled state.

“Are you all right?” Nari asks, her tone grave as she studies me closely. Fate chooses that moment to intervene, another round of pain rebounding through my lower abdomen. Fiery tendrils swirl, grabbing ahold of my muscles and burning me from the inside out. My head falls back on a silent scream as Nari directs Hye to go for help. Hye runs to the door, banging furiously. With gentle hands, she delicately lays me back onto the mattress. Her eyes meet mine, a sympathetic sadness emanating from her.

Gritting through the pain, I ask between pants, “H-How b-bad is it?” She’s silent for a moment, searching my eyes as if contemplating whether she should tell me the truth. Not wanting her to lie, I push out on a ragged breath, “P-Please, I need to know.”

Her voice is grim, her expression grave as she replies, “You’re lying in a pool of your own blood. I-I’m sorry.” Her voice wavers just a bit at the end.

A broken feeling takes up temporary residence inside of me, dizziness swarming, threatening to consume me. No, I mentally chastise myself. I can’t think this way. For . . . Violet’s sake. The door flies open, my mother charging through the entryway. Her cold eyes find me instantly; shock registers for a moment before she quickly barks out orders.

“Call the doctor, now! Tell him he has ten minutes to arrive or I will personally see to it that he is cut up into tiny pieces and fed to the dogs. Jeong, carry her into the room down the hall that we use for medical emergencies. And be gentle with her . . . or else.” Her threat hangs in the air, her cold voice echoing off the walls.

Jeong’s strong grip reaches underneath my frail body, jarring me, causing pain to ripple intensely through my muscles. “Shhh, Agassi, it will be all right,” he croons.

His voice slithers, descending upon me like snakes in a bottomless pit. The idea makes the nausea in my stomach rise, climbing up into my throat. Clamping my hand over my mouth, I desperately try to quell the queasiness raging within me. My head lolls, rolling to the side as we wander into the room.

My mother’s voice is rigid as she commands, “Place her there on the table, and do not return until you have the doctor.” Doing as instructed, Jeong places me on the table. The sickness I’d worked so hard to tame rushes to the surface.

My words are choked out in a rush hardly discernible through my gagging. “I-I’m go-onna be s-sick.”

My irises dilate, widening in surprise as my mother rushes to my side, bucket in hand. Brushing my hair away from my face, she holds the small tin bucket steady while I vomit the meager contents of my stomach. When the retching subsides, she removes the bucket, placing it on the floor with a thunk. Groaning, I flop onto the crude table, trying to ignore the searing pain in my nether regions.

“What have you done?” she demands.

The pupils in my eyes dilate, swallowing up my irises completely. Unease filters into my bloodstream. Unable to form a response to her ridiculous question, I remain silent. Maybe if I look deep enough, peering into the depths, I can see the demon that’s harnessed her soul. Pressure builds behind my eyes, threatening to explode. Finding a spot on the wall, I stare, hell-bent on avoiding her at all costs.

“For your sake, you better hope you’re not losing my heir.”

Choking back a sob, I fight the urge to respond. Her heir? Is that all she can think of? What about Violet? She’s my only link to Alex. That beautiful soul created in the heat of passion. The one I’m supposed to care for and nurture for the rest of my life.

Waves of nausea strike me, charging like a bull on a rampage. I’m finding it more and more of a challenge to ignore the pain and illness ravaging my body. The door to the room creaks open, an older Korean man shuffling in. His face is round with black-framed eyeglasses perched upon his nose. He appears to be haggard and worn as if he’s run ragged. Behind him, Jeong pushes an ultrasound machine into the room.

Tensing, every muscle goes rigid as I grasp the sides of the table. All of the sudden, fear grips me tightly. I don’t want them to touch me. I’m afraid, deathly afraid, terrified of what they might do to her. I can’t lose her, I don’t want to lose her.

Shaking my head violently, my words are hysteric. “No! No! Don’t! Don’t come near me!”

“Be quiet, Ttal,” my mother hisses.

Pointing in my direction, she gives the doctor his orders. “Check her. Find out what is wrong. Do anything possible to save my heir. Do you understand?” The underlying threat in her voice doesn’t need to be spoken. He nods, shuffling his feet toward the table.

Violently thrashing, I scream, “NO! DON’T! PLEASE!”

“Hold her down, now!” my mother shouts to Jeong above my screams.

Jeong’s impenetrable grasp holds me firmly in place while the doctor un-compassionately inserts the wand into my cervix. I grow still as pain slashes through my midriff, a moan sliding past my lips. A quiet stillness befalls, descending upon the room while the doctor violently shoves the wand left then right. Over and over he continues his assault on me while pressing down on my belly, feeling for something, anything. The agony is increasing with each moment that passes, transforming from pain to a sadistic form of torture. Focusing on the wild breaths sawing in and out of my lungs, I count them one at a time.