The Rules of Survival (Mercer #1)

RoS Chapter Thirty Two

Chapter Thirty Two

The good doctor rambled on about what to expect over the recovery period but I was hardly listening as he recited details off the chart in his hands.

Not likely that I'll be able to have kids.

I supposed you kind of had to have a whole uterus for that to happen. Not that I had any plans to procreate, now, or in the future. The mere thought of bringing a child into a world I knew to be cruel and heartless was daunting and terrifying. But, even so, having that choice potentially taken away from me was... well, it was upsetting.

It was yet another decision that had been taken out of my hands. Why was it starting to feel like my life wasn't quite my own anymore? Didn't I get a say in anything I did or didn't do?

"Miss Mercer?"

Dr. Facelli's voice cut into my self pity party, startling me.

"I'm sorry?" I asked, blinking myself back to the present.

"I asked if there was anything else I could do for you," he said gently, tucking the chart under one arm.

I shook my head. "No. I'm just tired."

Taking the obvious hint, he left me to it, volunteering to retrieve the others from the waiting room.

Justice returned with Sal, and as they walked in the door I noticed the way Justice's face was pulled tight like he was in extreme pain. Both men stopped at the foot of my bed, Sal drumming his fingertips against the metal frame.

"Called your English teacher," he said. "Of course your brother snatched the phone from him before he could even get out a hello. They're on their way to come and see you. The whole brood of kids and the babysitter. He still hasn't told the younger ones what exactly happened to you. So if you don't want them to know, you might want to start thinking up a convincing lie." He paused and gave me a critical once over. "Somehow I don't think 'I fell down the stairs' is going to cut it."

I started to laugh, and abruptly stopped when it felt like my stomach was being cleaved open with a blunt, rusty instrument. Fatigue clung to me relentlessly, and it was an effort not to let my eyes close and my mind wander.

I'd been awake for a lousy few hours and yet I was ready to sleep for a week at least. Apart from that, food was only appealing until the thought of actually consuming it made me so nauseous I was sure I'd throw up.

"What did the doctor say?" Justice asked, and I didn't miss the way he reached up with his good hand to cradle his injury. Catching himself at the last second, he let it drop back to his side. I resisted the urge to shake my head. Always playing the tough guy, he was. Even when he was in the company of people who wouldn't take advantage of his display of weakness.

I panicked for a split second, and hoped nobody could tell by the way my eyes widened and my nostrils flared. "Um," I stuttered, trying to wrack my brain for something to say. Something other than the bleak truth. "He said, uh, that I'll be out of here in a few days. Full recovery."

I forced a smile and shrugged.

Justice's eyes narrowed slightly. "Really."

"Yes, really," I said, nodding.

For some reason, he wasn't quite buying it. Then again, he was pretty good at picking out lies, and at the moment I wasn't really demonstrating my stellar abilities at weaving them.

"So if I bring him back here and ask him to repeat what he just said to you, that's what I'll hear. Full recovery."

"Cynicism and paranoia are the leading causes in break ups," I chastised, much to Sal's delight. He started snickering as he took the seat beside my bed. Then his snicker turned into a healthy laugh at the way Justice's cheeks went pink and he shifted uncomfortably.