Back Home (Edited) Book 4 of the Guardians Saga

CH 1.1 Surrender

"Alex." Rile embraced her, coiling his draconic body around her.

Alex still couldn't speak, but she ran a glowing hand up and down his back, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Alex, Alex, Alex," Rile whispered and clasped her to him.

Unspeakable thoughts ran through his head: pictures of Alex battered and bleeding, held captive by Morgan for days and then trying to take her own life after it all ended. He shuddered and held her tighter. He felt her hands on his back, calming and soothing. The darkness and rage he had once known without her seemed almost unbearable now. He wouldn't survive life without her; he'd rather die.

He shuddered more violently as Alex guided him to the couch, carefully arranging his body on the cushions. She crawled up next to him and snuggled close; her glowing hand slowly sweeping back and forth across his chest. It seemed strange; the victim comforting her rescuer, but it soothed them both.

Alex spoke softly, her voice rough from Morgan's abuse, "It's worse when someone you love is hurting than when you're hurting yourself."

Rile pulled her more tightly against himself, burying his face in her hair.

Alex continued, "It was harder for Gabe. He bottled everything up, had to be perfect, be in perfect control, and he couldn't handle it."

"I can and I will," Rile promised.

"I have high hopes for you."

Rile felt a dampness seeping onto his chest and pulled back, his stomach plummeting like a boulder down the side of a cliff. The scarlet smeared across Alex's body was unmistakable - it was her blood. He wanted to be angry at her for not telling him about her other injuries, but the shame of not noticing was too much.

Rile gripped her arm in one hand, not wanting to give her a chance to escape. He then carefully peeled back the fabric of her shirt with his other hand to get a good look at the wound.

"It's nothing," Alex insisted. "I can just pack it with gauze."

Rile replied firmly, "I might not have my brother Cale's healing abilities, but I'm pretty sure this needs stitches. We're going to the hospital."

Rile stood up, still gripping Alex's arm even though he wanted to be gentle with her. He barely registered the icy rage bubbling inside of him toward Morgan for causing this injury. He just wanted to kill Morgan.

***

It was a silent trip to the hospital. Rile went into the ED with her, despite her objections. He felt more than well concealed with his Stetson and black leather duster: he felt he looked good. He was right

The waiting room was noisy and crowded, its yellow walls adorned with peeling posters of smiling faces and inspirational quotes. A woman with a split lip and black eye sat alone, hunched over a green plastic chair directly across from them.

"My pimp done dis to me," Alex told the battered woman. "Yours done dat to you?"

Rile slid Alex a sideways glance, but said nothing and tipped his hat lower over his face. He hadn't heard this accent before. He could tell it was false, but the woman seemed to accept it.

"What if?" The woman's chin rose in defiance.

"Kick him to da curb. Come wif," Alex jerked her head at Rile. "He good."

"Honey, dey all starts out good. Den dey change." The women crossed her legs and shifted away from them.

"True dat," Alex said in a mournful tone. "Dis one different. Miz Helen at da shelter taught me how to tell da dif. Come wif, to da shelter. Got kids?"