Page 42 of Hunted (Desert Island Duet #2)

Chapter twenty-seven

Reece

“ W hat did she just say?” I ask carefully as we all helplessly watch Darla scream and cry as she clings to Weston for dear life.

Suddenly, her entire body goes limp.

“Fuck!” I move closer as West releases his tight grip on her, and her head flops to the side, revealing her passed out. I put my fingers on her pulse, making sure she’s alright, then I nod. “She’s okay.”

“I’d hardly call this okay ,” King grumbles, motioning to her.

“Is she hurt?” I ask as West lays her on her back. There wasn’t a lot of blood, but she smeared it everywhere when she started freaking out.

Her words bounce around my head, and I move to check between her legs, stopping myself at the last second. “Maybe one of you should…?”

“I’ll do it,” King says as he moves closer to her legs.

She’s wearing a long t-shirt, and he lifts it up, gently pulling her legs apart.

I look away and watch her face instead. She looks pale and her face is covered in fresh tears.

I grab the edge of the blanket and start drying her face as King inspects her.

“I think…” he says, dropping the shirt and closing her legs. “I think it’s just her pe riod.”

“We need to call a doctor. She said…” I can’t say the word. It feels too big to say aloud.

“We should,” King agrees. “I honestly don’t think that is what this is, but the way she reacted, we should definitely get her checked out.”

“I’ll make the call.”

I climb out of bed and pull on a shirt. Grabbing my phone, I go into the hall and call Arnold. He assures me he can get our on-call doctor there quickly and hangs up.

As I head back into the room, I hear Bower ask, “Do you remember her having her period on the island?”

They both seem to consider the question before King finally shakes his head. “No, and we were there almost two months. She should have had it at least once.”

“She never even wore underwear, so she couldn’t have hid it from us.”

“There’s no chance of her having an implant or anything. Even if she did have something implanted when she was thirteen, it would have worn off a long time ago,” King tells us.

We all just stare at her for a moment, trying to figure it all out. It seems like she hasn’t had her period in a while.

“Reece? Do you know if she had it before she ended up on the island?” King asks me.

I nod, remembering when she got her first one vividly. “Yeah, she told me about it… probably a year or so before she left.”

I frown, turning my head to look at our girl. Did something about being on the island stop her from having her period?

My mind replays her words before she passed out. She said she couldn’t survive another miscarriage. How could she possibly— "Oh, fuck. ”

“What?” Bower asks, as they all turn to look at me. My face pales and my hands start to shake.

I quickly sit on the bed before I pass out.

“She said she couldn’t survive this… again .” I glance around before I clarify. “Meaning it’s happened before.”

“But she—” Bower’s words cut off as his face pales, his head whipping around to look down at Darla.

“Those fucking assholes,” West growls, his hands fisting in the sheets. “I wish they were still alive so I could kill them all over again.”

“She was pregnant?” King asks, his voice weak with fear. I reach over and squeeze his shoulder in support.

“And she’s been dealing with it alone ever since. They assaulted her, killed her father, then she was left alone on that island to deal with the aftermath by herself. Who knows how long she was even pregnant.”

Long enough that she knew what it was. I drop my head and squeeze my eyes tightly shut, remembering thirteen-year-old Darla.

Trying to picture her alone on that island, dealing with a miscarriage.

It’d be hard enough if she had been at home, but to be alone on a deserted island. It must have been devastating.

“I bet it happened during a storm,” West says, making me lift my head to look at him. It explains her strong reaction to them.

I nod, the pieces clicking in place. He’s probably right.

I glance back down at her and take a deep breath.

It’s clear she needs to do a lot of healing, more so than we thought.

I probably should have pushed her to see a therapist already, but sometimes she seems to be doing so well, and I don’t want to bring it up and upset her .

My phone buzzes and I pull it out. “The doctor is here,” I inform the others as I stand. “Maybe throw some clothes on yourselves,” I point out, noting they’re all still in boxers.

I stop at my room to grab a pair of sweatpants and as I step out, Arnold is coming up the stairs with the doctor in tow.

I reach out and shake her hand. “Thanks for coming, Dr. Reynolds.”

“Of course, what seems to be the problem?”

Arnold takes that as his queue and retreats downstairs as I lead the doctor into the room, where the guys are thankfully dressed in t-shirts and sweatpants. Darla still lays unconscious, her head in Bower’s lap.

“She woke up bleeding and freaked out. We think it’s her period but… We’re not sure she’s had one in a very long time. She also mentioned having a miscarriage, years ago.”

She nods along as she takes in Darla’s state and the blood on the bed.

She reaches forward and checks her pulse. “Can you move her over to this side of the bed?” she asks, pointing to a spot closer to her. Bower and West gently move her over and the doc moves to the end of the bed inspecting the bloody spot where they moved her from.

“How long has it been since you first noticed the blood?”

“About thirty-five minutes,” I tell her.

She nods. “It doesn’t look like her body is in distress. You’re probably right and it’s just her period, especially considering the small amount of blood and its consistency. I can’t perform a physical inspection of her while she’s unconscious, as I don’t think she’s in any danger of bleeding out.”

“What should we do?” King asks, looking lost as he stares at Darla.

“Keep her comfortable. If you can clean her up a bit, that will probably help her stay calm when she wakes up. I’d like to do a full panel on her, but we need to do it at my office where I have all the equipment. Can you bring her in at nine?”

“Today? Yes,” I tell her, already knowing that Darla isn't going to want to go.

“Okay, until then, just try to keep her calm and perhaps get her some supplies, yes?” She raises an eyebrow at me, and I nod. “Good, I’ll see you in…” She lifts her wrist and looks at her watch, checking the time. “About five hours. I’ll see myself out.”

Knowing Arnold is probably waiting by the stairs, I let her go and turn back to the others.

“Why don’t we get her cleaned up and change the bedding before she wakes up?” King suggests, and we all move into action. “I’m gonna call Hazel, maybe she can recommend what stuff we should get her.”

“It’s four o’clock in the morning,” I remind him.

He just shrugs. “She’ll answer.”

“I’ll do the bedding if you two want to take her into the bathroom and get her clean?” I offer. West scoops her up and Bower leads them into the bathroom.

I strip the bed and throw the dirty sheets in the hall, grabbing new ones from the linen closet. I’m glad we bought several spare sets, although it wasn’t blood I thought we’d be cleaning from them.

Just as I finish remaking the bed, Bower walks in carrying Darla, West hot on his heels. I pull the blanket back and West lays a couple of towels down.

“Good thinking,” I say, realizing she would just stain the sheets again if we didn’t put anything under her.

As Bower sets her down her eyes slowly open .

“W-What’s going on?” she asks, seeing the three of us hovering over her.

I sit down at her side and grab her hand. “Everything’s alright, you just got your period. But you’re all cleaned up now.”

She frowns at me, like she doesn’t understand what I’m saying, then her eyebrows raise and her face pales.

“Shit,” Bower mumbles as he kneels on the floor and strokes her hair back from her face. I squeeze her hand between mine and try to keep my voice calm.

“It’s okay, Darla.”

“No—I…”

“We know about your miscarriage, but that’s not what this is. It’s just your period. You haven't had it in a long time, hmm?” I try to keep my voice calm but simply saying that word makes my skin itch.

She sucks in a sharp breath, her wide eyes staring at me in shock. “How do you know?”

“You told us before you passed out.” King comes in and climbs in on her other side, along with West, and we all gently stroke her, trying to keep her calm. Her arm, her hair, her hands, wherever we can reach.

“I… You weren’t supposed to know,” she whispers, her eyes filling with tears.

“Oh, sweetheart,” King says, looking heartbroken at her expression. “You shouldn’t keep something like that to yourself.”

“Did it happen during a storm?” West asks, like he needs to know if that’s the missing piece to the puzzle. Her lips press together in a thin line as she looks at him, nodding her head quickly.

“How…” I trail off, wanting to know the answer, but a little worried about asking. Deciding its best to get it all out in the open now, I take a br eath, then ask, “How far along were you? Did you… know?” I’m not sure how to ask, but she seems to understand.

She squeezes my hand tightly as she whispers, “Four or five months, I think. My stomach had a small bulge, so I knew, or at least suspected.”

“I’m so fucking sorry that happened to you. You must have been terrified.” I swallow down the lump in my throat as tears roll down her cheeks. Bower quickly wipes them away as she nods.

“Hazel is dropping off a bunch of supplies for you in the morning. We weren’t sure what you needed, so I figured she’d be a good one to ask.”

“You didn’t—” Her scared eyes turn to King.

“No,” he cuts her off before she can finish her question. “I just told her it was your first period in a while, and we didn’t know what you’d need.”

She seems to relax, her tight grip finally easing as she relaxes back into the bed. “Thank you.” Her eyes dart around to each of us. “All of you. I didn’t want anyone to know, not even you.”

“Baby,” West grumbles as she turns her head to him. “Why wouldn’t you tell us? That’s the sort of thing we should know.”

“I don’t know,” she says with a shrug, her eyes dropping away from everyone. “I guess I was embarrassed or… afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” I prod.

“That you’d see me differently. That I’m damaged goods.”

“Fuck, Darla, we could never see you like that, you should know that by now. You can trust us with your darkest secrets and know we’ll keep them safe and never judge you for them.”

She wipes at a tear that’s escaped and gives me a tight-lipped smile. “Well, you pretty much know them all now. ”

I sigh, nodding my head as she gives me her hand again. “Why don’t you try to sleep for a bit? We have to take you in to see the doctor in a few hours.”

“Wait, what?”

“Dr. Reynolds was just here; we were worried you were injured. But before you freak out, she just checked your pulse and looked at the blood in the bed. She knew it was your period, and that you were okay. But she wants to do a full check up on you.”

She opens her mouth as if to argue so I keep talking. “And considering what you’ve been through, and that you haven't seen a doctor since Madagascar, and that was really only for your bullet wound, I think it’s important to do this now.”

“For all we know, you picked up a parasite on that island,” King unhelpfully adds.

“So could you,” she retorts, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Alright, check-ups for all of us then,” I say, giving her hand a little tug so she turns to face me. I give her a smile that I hope is convincing and after a few moments of silence, she lets out a sigh of defeat.

“Fine, I’ll go if you all go.”

“Good girl,” I tell her, leaning down to give her a quick kiss on the lips, surprising her. I pull the blanket up to cover her as Bower and West jump in on either side, snuggling up as I turn off the main light.

I’m glad they’re with her right now. There’s no way I’m going back to sleep.

“I’m gonna put the coffee on,” King says, passing me in the hall and heading for the stairs.

I stand still, debating what to do as my mind reels over everything I just found out. My hands clench into fists as I think about what West said. I had to agree with him. Part of me wishes those men were alive so I could beat the living shit out of them myself.

And it’s not like she’s out of danger yet. Someone is still actively targeting us. I’m not even sure who the real target or targets are anymore. We need the FBI to find Frank and put an end to this, once and for all.

Deciding I need to let out some of this pent-up anger, I head downstairs to the gym. Only a few rounds with a punching bag could calm me down now.