Miracle (boyxboy)

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Consciousness returned, accompanied by the sound of my sister in a full blown rage.

"Fuck you, you motherfucking shit-eating cocksucker prick! Connor volunteered to die for you! He got laser flogged for you, and you do this to him?! I'm gonna cut your dick off and chop it into little pieces and stuff every last one of them up your filthy pedo ass!"

"Ms. Hayes, remain in the hall." The nurse was disproportionately calm, as if she was used to dealing with girls in hysterics. "He's in here, Mekas."

Shit. What do I do?! Should I try telling Ezra to go away? That wasn't likely to work a second time. But how was I going to face him like this? He'd be mad when he found out I'd hidden my illness. More importantly, I didn't have the strength to look him in the eyes right now.

I pretended I was still unconscious.

"You're sure it's rectal bleeding, nurse?" Ezra's voice was so low that he was hard to hear.

"Yes, I did the external exam you requested. Redness and irritation in the area, but no visible lacerations. The blood loss is significant, as you can see from his clothing. Gave the students quite a fright."

"Fever, too?"

"Yes, a low-grade one. Blood oxygenation is low, heart rate elevated. Maybe an infection?"

His big hand slid over mine, and he took a sharp breath. "He's in pain. Do you have Vicodin?"

"Sure, one moment."

"Connor."

Ah, crap. He was in my head, so he knew I was awake.

"Connor, I know you don't want to talk to me right now. But you have to tell me..." his voice cut out a little, "who did this."

I opened my eyes, and the sight of his beautiful face just inches from mine dissolved what little resolve I had. "Nobody did anything."

He moved closer. His irises were flickering strangely, backlit with dark flames of fury, even though his expression was carefully controlled.

"Whoever it was," each word was deadly as a bullet, "he won't touch you again. Was it the Swan? One of his clients? Someone at the institute? Who?"

"Nobody," I repeated, a little frustrated. "I got sick."

"Connor, you're bleeding. You have an infection. If someone— If you were..." He closed his eyes, wrapping my hand between his, and leaned in so his forehead was touching my knuckles. "I have to know."

Oh God, he thinks somebody raped me.

And fuck, so does everyone else! No wonder Maddy's losing her shit.

Resentment swept through me. Ezra had been fine with sending me to the Swan two days ago. Sure, I'd been okay at his house, but it easily could have gone sideways. Yet Ezra was upset about it now?

I pulled away. "I wasn't raped, goddammit! I don't know what's happening, but it's not that!" To my dismay, tears started swimming across my vision.

"Vicodin," said the nurse, nudging Ezra's shoulder. He levitated me from the table, which made me realize I was dressed in a hospital gown. Awkwardly breezy in the back. The nurse must have taken my clothes off while I was conked out.

I was turned upright, but Ezra didn't set me down. He kept his touch steady and light on my arm, kept my feet hovering above the floor, while putting the medicine in my hand.

I fisted the pills, glaring.

"Please take them." He was giving me a look that said he knew how much I was hurting. But no amount of Vicodin was going to fix the real pain, the stuff he couldn't feel just by borrowing my senses.