Page 39 of Blood & Bond (The Bouchers #2)

Lucy

I woke up in the middle of the night, wrapped in Ambrose’s arms. I’d pushed in so close to him that his chest pressed fully against my back.

I’d cocked one knee so that my stitches wouldn’t touch anything, and his legs surrounded my other leg, his hips aligned with mine.

My cheek rested on one of his biceps, and his other arm was wrapped around my waist, his hand pressed against my chest.

I was still freezing.

Curling my hands up by my chin, I lay there listening to his soft breaths.

When I’d realized that I was Ambrose’s mate, I’d been so dubious of the entire thing. Even after I’d watched my brother fall in love with Zeke so quickly, I hadn’t understood. I’d assumed Charlie had fallen so fast because that was just who he was. Romantic. Always seeing the best in people.

I wasn’t like that. I hadn’t been waiting for my Prince Charming to whisk me away.

I’d had the life that I’d built, and I had Charlie, and that’s all I’d needed.

Did I like dating? Sure, sometimes. But I hadn’t felt like I was missing anything when I was single.

I hadn’t been searching for someone to make a life with.

Then Ambrose showed up with his perfect face.

He was everything I’d never realized I needed.

He protected me. I’d proven how capable I was at protecting myself, but that didn’t matter. He wanted to care for me, from washing me in the shower to making sure I ate, to letting Charlie lie in bed with us for hours watching stupid movies that no one but my brother liked.

It was something I’d never had before. Someone anticipating my needs and providing them before I’d even realized that they were missing.

He looked at me like I was the most beautiful woman in the universe. The smartest. The kindest. There hadn’t been a moment since we met that I didn’t feel the full weight of that. It was constant. Unwavering.

I really had won the lottery when I was least expecting it. I couldn’t imagine ever going back to what I’d had before, carrying the weight of everything alone. Just the thought of it made my nose sting with tears.

“I love you,” I whispered into the darkness, pulling his arm closer against my chest.

“I love you too, baby,” he whispered in my ear, scaring the crap out of me.

“When the hell did you wake up?” I asked, turning my head to look at him.

“You’ve been moving around for the last fifteen minutes,” he replied, his voice hoarse from sleep. “You okay? Does your leg hurt?”

“No. I’m freezing,” I said with a huff, dropping my head back down.

So much for trying out the words before I said them for real.

“You shouldn’t have thrown the comforter on the floor.”

“It was a mess,” he replied tiredly. “All those little crumbs would’ve driven me crazy if they fell in the sheets.”

He moved to get up, but I clutched his arm to my chest as his words reminded me of the textured top of Zeke’s quilt, running my finger over the embroidery.

“Get up,” I ordered, flinging his arm away from me.

“What’s wrong?” he asked in alarm as I crawled to the edge of the bed.

“Up!” I grabbed my shirt and pulled it over my head. “Get dressed.”

“Lucy, what the hell is wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” I assured him as I pulled on the lime sweatpants he’d been wearing earlier. “Hurry.”

“You’re worrying me,” he said as he strode to the dresser. “Why am I getting dressed?”

“We need to go to Charlie’s room.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” he said flatly as he got dressed. “Can’t this wait?—”

“No,” I said stubbornly, standing in the doorway. “Come on.”

I had to give it to Ambrose. He was a good sport about it.

He followed me across the house without a word as I rushed to my brother’s room.

I wanted to make sure that I was remembering right before I said what I was thinking.

If I was wrong, then I’d look a little crazy, but he wouldn’t be disappointed.

If I was right, he’d be glad that I hadn’t waited.

“Charles,” I called as I entered his rooms. “I hope you’re dressed.”

“What the hell are you doing in here?” Charlie whined as I flicked on the overhead light. “Go away.”

“No,” I replied, reaching for the quilt that covered him. I yanked it off the bed.

“What are you doing?” Charlie grunted angrily as I threw the blanket out until it landed flat on the floor.

“Just a sec,” I said as I kneeled down next to it.

Starting at one corner, I checked each scar of embroidery, one by one.

“Baby,” Ambrose said gently from where he stood above me. “It’s four in the morning.”

I ignored him as Charlie sat up on the edge of the bed. “What are you looking for?” he asked blearily.

I’d almost given up when my finger caught on a little hard piece inside the blanket. My throat tightened. I was right.

There was something inside the quilt.

“Here,” I said, keeping my pointer finger next to the red embroidery snaking across the quilt. “It’s right here.”

“What is?” Ambrose asked, kneeling down beside me. He reached out and set his finger next to mine, running it along the edge of the stitching.

“Feel it?” I asked, looking over at him.

“Holy Gods,” he breathed.

“Charlie, get me scissors.”

My brother stared at me blankly.

“Scissors,” I snapped my fingers. “A knife, nail clippers, something .”

Charlie grumbled as he shuffled to the bathroom.

“What do you think it is?” I asked, looking back at the quilt.

“A chip,” Ambrose replied softly.

Charlie walked back in and dropped a pair of nail clippers on top of the quilt. “ You’re going to ask Mom to fix it if you put a hole in it,” he said worriedly.

I handed the clippers to Ambrose and watched as he carefully clipped the threads, pulling on them until they unraveled enough that he could slip his fingers inside. He pulled them back out, pinching a small black rectangle no bigger than my thumbnail.

“What is it?” Charlie demanded.

“It’s a microSD,” Ambrose said, holding it up to get a closer look as he sat back on his heels. He looked at me. “How the fuck did you know it was there?”

“I felt it,” I replied, staring. It was so small.

“When?”

“Right before the sedation kicked in.” I shrugged. “I fell asleep before I could tell you.”

“What’s on it?” Charlie asked, worry lacing his tone.

I frowned at my brother. “You know as much as we do,” I reminded him acerbically. “Zeke didn’t exactly label it.”

Ambrose rose and walked to the wall, pressing the intercom on the wall. “Chance, is Danny home?”

It was silent for a few moments.

“How the hell would I know?” Chance griped angrily. “What the fuck?”

“Call him,” Ambrose ordered.

“You call him,” Chance shot back.

“Lucy found a microSD in Zeke’s quilt,” Ambrose said, looking at me like I’d invented the earth.

A few more moments of silence.

“I’ll call him,” Chance mumbled.

Ambrose pushed a different button. “Beau.”

“This better be good,” Beau replied.

“Come to Zeke’s room.”

“Okay.”

We sat in silence until Chance barged in. He was wearing a pair of ratty sweatpants that were cut off at the knees and no shirt.

“My eyes,” I hissed, covering my face.

“You’re welcome,” he replied. The sound of him slapping his belly was unmistakable.

When I opened my eyes again, Ambrose was staring at me in amusement.

“Where’s the card?” Chance asked.

Ambrose handed it over.

“It was in the quilt?”

“He’d stitched it in,” Ambrose confirmed.

“Tricky little fucker,” Chance said, a small smile pulling at his cheeks. “And the idiots brought it right to us.”

“He knew there was a good chance it would be shipped back to us,” Ambrose said, reaching down to help me off the floor. “Shit, you’re bleeding.”

“No, I’m not,” I argued, looking at my arms.

“Your thigh.” A little circle of blood had started to seep through the sweats.

“Shit.”

“Danny’s on his way,” Chance said as Beau and Reese walked quietly into the room. “Take her to Alice. We’ll meet you in my rooms.”

“I’m fine,” I argued. “It doesn’t even hurt.”

“I’d like to get dressed,” Charlie announced.

He was sitting there in his boxers, his cheeks red with embarrassment.

I wanted to argue more, but Ambrose was already pulling me across the room.

“It could’ve been worse,” Reese said behind us. “What if you slept naked?”

I heard my brother laugh as the door closed behind us.

Alice was sleeping, her hand holding Sven’s, when we got to the hospital room. Silently, Ambrose led me over to the bed and helped me take off my pants. Beneath them, the bandage was even bloodier.

Without a word, Ambrose gently took the bandage off.

Most of the stitches were still intact. It was only one that had snapped and was sticking out at odd angles.

I looked away as Ambrose used a pair of tweezers to pull the thread out of my skin.

A few minutes later, he’d bandaged it again and was pulling my pants back over my hips.

Once we were making our way through the kitchen, he lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. “It’s healed enough that you didn’t need a new stitch,” he said quietly. “You need to be more careful until it’s fully healed.”

“I will,” I assured him.

He stopped and picked me up at the bottom of the stairs.

“I think I can manage stairs,” I said against his ear as he carried me up.

“Why chance it when I like having you in my arms?” he replied.

I wondered if he was filled with as much anxiety as I was.

There was a chance that the only thing on that memory card was porn or bank statements or a million other things that Zeke could’ve wanted to hide.

He could’ve hidden that memory card years ago and forgotten about it.

We wouldn’t know if it held anything until we opened it.

I wrapped my arms around Ambrose’s neck and slid my hand through his hair as he reached the top of the stairs.

Pausing, he set me gently on my feet and grabbed my hand.