Page 51

Blast from the Past

I search until I find a buzzer near the bed. Pressing it, I grab Drax’s hand and wait.

“Hi,” I say with a relieved smile. He tries to wink at me, then groans.

“Damn, I feel like I went ten rounds in the ring with Maxen.” He coughs on the last word, making me and Jax reach for a water glass placed next to his bed. Jax smiles and retracts his hand as I grab it and hold it to Drax, who sips through the straw.

“Why do I smell strawberries?” he asks, as he tries to sit up. Jax grabs one side and Maxen moves to grab the other as they both help him into a sitting position. When he’s comfortable, Maxen claps his shoulder.

“Good to see you awake, brother. Our girl was starting to get worried, which in her case means she kicked someone’s ass,” Maxen says with a chuckle as Drax looks at me with a dopey smile.

“Aww, you miss me darlin’?”

I roll my eyes. I go to reply but the door opens, making my guys and I tense before the asshole doctor who examined me walks in, with a smaller, pudgier man on his heels.

He doesn’t even speak, only throws me a dirty look before moving to Drax’s bedside and examining some machines.

We spend the next ten minutes watching as the two doctors examine him and run more tests.

Finally, they tell us he’s okay, still healing but well enough to travel tomorrow.

My father walks in and nods at the two men before facing me.

“Can we talk, prin-Worth?” my father asks, sounding unsure. I nod before turning to see Drax looking from him to me. I lean in and give him a quick kiss, which he tries to deepen. Laughing, I pull back .

“The guys will fill you in,” I say softly, running my fingers across his face.

His eyes are serious, and his mouth pulls down in a frown as he searches my face. “You okay, babe? Whose ass do I need to kick?”

His threat makes me smile, even injured and in a hospital bed, all he is worried about is me. “No one’s, I’ll kick them myself. Though, if it makes you feel better, I will let you hold them down.”

He grins at me, that sparkle back in his eye. One that speaks of trouble and naughty things. “Deal.”

Shaking my head with a smile, I face my father, my smile dropping away as I prepare for our talk. I follow him out of the room and we walk in silence as he leads me back to his office. Once inside, I drop to the same chair as before.

“So, you in charge or something? You have an office, and they listen to you…”

He rubs his head as he sits heavily in his chair. “In a way. I was voted to lead.”

I nod. “What’s wrong?” I demand, crossing my arms as if to ward off a blow.

He smiles sadly at me. “You always were too smart for your own good.”

“Don’t beat around the bush. I don’t like lies or half-truths.” My voice is loud in the quiet as my head runs through possible scenarios. Maybe Dray has attacked someone, maybe the Berserkers have done something.

“You can’t have kids.” It bursts out of him and then he winces at the harsh statement.

“Doctor Sencal…” At my confused look, he carries on and corrects himself, “Evan, came and gave me your test results. It seems your womb is scarred and damaged. I’m sorry princess, whatever you have been through means you can’t have children.

” He freezes as if expecting me to freak out.

I blow out a breath. “Okay.”

“That’s it?” he asks incredulously, leaning forward. “Princess, I’ve just told you that you can’t have kids, and you say ‘okay’?”

I nod, my defence up at his questioning me.

“Okay. It’s not like I ever thought about having them, and bringing a child into this world?

” I shake my head. “Into my world, with my past and my enemies? No, I don’t have anything else to say.

It’s harsh and true, but I’m glad that I can’t bring an innocent into this world only to see them suffer.

” I watch as he digests my words, thinking them through.

“Now, did the doctor say anything else? And why did he come to you and not me?” I demand, angry that they went behind my back.

It’s my body, my life. I have a right to know before a man I haven't seen in over ten years does.

“I asked him to let me know of your results. I wasn’t trying to betray your trust, I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” my father defends.

“Then you should have let me make up mind whether to tell you or not. This will never work if you don’t show me trust, or continue to treat me like a child. I have a right to know about my own body and decide who I tell.” I get up to pace, trying to burn off some of the anger.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, Worth. What can I do to make it up to you?” he pleads, standing and coming around the desk to block my path. His face is open and sincere.

“The truth,” I demand. He flinches but nods, gesturing to the chair. Gritting my teeth, I sit back down as he leans back against the desk in front of me.

“What do you want to know?”

“How you have a map of the Wastes if you have been hiding out down here?” It’s the first question that comes to mind and one that has been bugging me.

“We have a deal with a group of survivors.” He keeps eye contact as he talks, crossing his arms, almost mirroring my stance. I drop my arms with a groan.

“Who?”

“Priest, I believe his name is.”

My eyes widen and he nods. “Ah, so you know him.”

It’s my turn to rub my head as the pain meds start to wear off again, making my head pound. “Yes. He’s the leader of The Worshippers.”

“A cult.” At my nod, my father carries on. “We were running out of food a couple of years ago, even with the fruit and veg we grow here, so we sent out a team. I was part of that team, we ended up running into Priest on the way back to his…”

“Settlement? Church?” I provide. He nods and rubs his hands together.

“They attacked us, but Priest stepped in. We made a deal. We would treat his wives and offer medical care, in exchange for food. Through these monthly meetings, I earned some knowledge about what was happening out there, not much, but enough.”

“You never tried to go anywhere else?”

He frowns. “Why would we? We have everything we need here. It’s safe, secure, and we are taken care of.”

“And I guess looking for your daughter was too much hassle,” I mutter bitterly. The silence stretches on before he sighs heavily.

“I was a fool. A scared little man. I can’t change the past. God, I wish I could.

All I can offer you is my apology. How sorry I am for leaving you, for giving up on you.

” His eyes beg me to understand and I find myself breathing deep to push back the tears.

My heart pounds against my chest as I look at him.

“All these people, how did they get here? How did they know it was here?” I ask gruffly, ignoring his last remark to return to a safe subject.

I see him flinch and a frown tugs at the corners of his lips, but he answers me anyway.

“Some were born up here in the North. A few worked here, when everything started, they came to somewhere familiar, somewhere safe. They brought their families and friends, and we took in stragglers from outside until we had here what you see now.”

I struggle to think of something else to ask, my mind slow because of the headache.

“You said you brought everyone here, including the men attacking us…Can I see them?”

His hair is down past his shoulders, sectioned off in honour braids.

The more hair the Berserker has, the stronger they are, and the more fights and tests they have won.

His one mud brown eye stares through the glass like he can see me, the other a scarred twisted hole where his eye used to be.

Plucked from his head by Ivar as a punishment.

I remember it like it was yesterday, his scream staying with me even now, as blood ran in horrifying rivulets down his face.

Ivar stood over him, the man’s eye clutched in his hand like some sick kind of trophy, with a vicious smile on his face.

The man was wailing hopelessly, so full of agony on the ground below Ivar, clutching at his face.

It was the first time in years I had smiled, living for it, loving him getting a taste of his own medicine.

Of course, I didn’t know then that it would warp his mind, that the pain and horror would break him until nothing existed but a crazed warrior intent only on bringing others pain.

Dreven wasn’t Ivar’s torturer, no that sick son of a bitch will be by his side, but Dreven here was his warrior. His fighter, because he didn’t fear anything. Hell, it’s like after that day, he never felt pain again. His mind was always locked on his next slave, his next fight.

He is one of the monsters I left behind, one even my mind tries to block me from remembering. My days spent in his tender care are some of the worst of my life, until all I knew was the scent of my own blood and the feeling of agony racing through my veins like a fire he controlled at whim.

My father brought me to the holding cells and I picked the first one, guess I’m just that lucky.

Apparently, they captured four Berserkers with the other four already being dead.

Two of those Berserkers didn’t last the night due to wounds from my guys, so it leaves us with him and another one I haven’t been in to see yet.

Staring back at me through the one-sided glass mirror is one of the men who features in my nightmares.

He looks smaller without all his weapons, namely his knife.

The one he named Lijepa bol, which means beautiful pain.

The one he took great pleasure in using on me.

My hand drifts automatically to the scar on my hip.

The one I got when he slammed the blade into me, tearing through skin and muscle, and pinning me there like a butterfly as he approached me, the lust clear in his eyes.