Page 25 of Thorns That Bloom (Venusverse #3)

Amanda shrugs. “It’s just an injury to his hand. They’ve patched it up. He’s conscious and all that, and he asserts he can wait. The policy says—”

The policy says the person should wait instead of wasting the on-the-clock time of the other workers by leaving their station and taking them to the hospital, losing precious time that could be spent producing, producing, producing...

With a sour grimace, I look at her. “At the manufacturing floor? I just finished. I can…I can drop them at the hospital on my way home, I guess,” I mutter.

Her face immediately changes. It’s bright and light now—artificially so—as she suddenly grabs my hand. “Oh? Perfect! Yep, he’s in the kitchen there. That would be very kind of you. If…you feel up for it, of course,” she adds, glancing down.

“I’m pregnant, not incompetent.” Walking past her with a firm expression, I take a deep breath and head to the manufacturing floor.

With each step, doubt inevitably stalks me. Like my reason finally catches up to my spontaneous, altruistic decision, I start thinking about the alphas at manufacturing, and the prospect of being alone in a car, at night, with another man. Who’s possibly an alpha.

“Not incompetent,” I repeat to myself, clenching my jaw. “You’re fine. Can’t back out now.”

I open the door marking the Manufacturing Area and cautiously look around.

The massive hall is quieter than the other times I’ve been here.

Though the hum of the state-of-the-art machines is still present, it’s clear that not as many people work at night.

It’s Sunday, too, which could have something to do with it.

Holding my hand over my stomach, almost like I’m actually gripping another person for comfort and support, I take slow, controlled steps forward.

Soon, I hear faint voices discussing something.

I still remember where the kitchen was, from taking the plate there.

Memories and intrusive thoughts of Theo flood my mind again, like they often do in the evening when I try to fall asleep.

His widening eyes, as he spoke outside that restaurant, are forever imprinted in my memory.

The realization dawning on him. The panic spreading once he knew he’d messed up.

His words faintly ringing behind me as I ran away like a coward…

I swear I can almost smell the scent of spiced coconut as well.

“You can’t be serious,” I hear a feminine voice.

When I carefully poke my head into the door of the communal kitchen, the exact same thought pops into my mind: You can’t be fucking serious.

Theo blinks and widens his eyes at me in shock. He stares at me from a chair by the sink, where he sits holding a bloodied towel wrapped around his hand.

I can smell his pheromones. It wasn’t just in my head.

And neither is the tall, muscular woman standing by him.

She turns to me, her hands resting on her wide hips, and her pheromones waft through the air toward me.

She, too, is an alpha. Roses and oak. A faint smell.

Not as terrifying as most, for some reason.

Maybe because she's a woman. An older one. The sort of person I imagine would have a family and a partner. Not that she couldn’t do whatever she wanted with me if we were both in the heat of it, but—

I cut my spiraling thoughts and adjust my eyes back on Theo, making sure this really is happening. “I…heard someone got injured,” I finally choke out. My voice comes out much shakier than I would like.

Theo looks pale, like he’s seen a ghost. Or maybe it’s the blood loss.

“Yeah. But apparently, he’s totally fine,” the woman says sharply, throwing her arm up at Theo in frustration.

He smirks, shifting his eyes from me to her. “It’s not like I’m going to die, Pauline.” The faint smell of blood mixes with his pheromones. I get a little queasy when glancing at the towel, but don’t step away like I want to.

“Oh, right! Your finger is basically coming off, and you think you can just sit here, waiting for—”

When Theo notices my disturbed expression, he jumps in. “It’s not coming off, it’s just…a little… Look, I checked online, and it says that as long as I keep pressure on it and keep the bits together, it should be fine until they can spare someone to treat me.”

Internally gagging at the mere idea, I furrow my brows. “I-I can take you,” I blurt.

Goddammit. I was supposed to stay away.

This is the very fucking opposite of staying away.

“N-No!” Theo protests, shaking his head.

“I’m fine, really! I don’t even feel faint anymore.

And-and it’s not bleeding that much.” With every word that leaves his mouth, I slowly realize why he sounds so freaked out.

Something between anger and comfort pulls at me.

He’s trying to push me away so I don’t get upset or uncomfortable.

He thinks about what happened to me, and that I can’t handle being around him.

Pauline groans, clearly done with him. “Because you’re cutting off circulation! Take this lovely person’s offer and go get your fucking finger stitched before it rots off!”

Theo looks like a puppy getting a beating. And pale. Oh, he looks pale.

Worry grips me. Fuck. Why do I worry about him?

I guess it’s only human. It doesn’t mean anything. He’s a person who’s hurt, and I’m someone who can help. Nothing more than that.

Or maybe it’s my brain finally seeing a way to solve this thing that’s been torturing me for the past three weeks.

This unresolved tension I’ve refused to work through.

‘There you go, you idiot. Make it so you’re trapped in a car with him.

That way you’ll have to talk about your stupid feelings,’ it exclaims.

“I don’t have a car,” Theo says softly, looking at me in that careful way that makes me feel like I’m made of glass. “Otherwise, I would’ve—”

“Would’ve what, dumbass?!” Pauline shouts at him and raises her hand, about to slap him over the top of the head, but she stops herself.

“Would’ve driven yourself there with your finger all messed up and bleeding?

Goddammit, Theo. Can you please take him, umm…

?” She trails off, raising one of her brows to indicate she wants to know my name.

“Sam.”

“Sam. Hello.” She softens her voice for me, smiling briefly. “I haven’t seen you before. Anyway, please, can you get this idiot to the hospital? I’ve already written up an injury report about this. I don’t have a car either, so…”

“Sure. It’s fine. Let’s go,” I say, glancing at Theo before I turn in the door. The woman hushes him behind me.

His footsteps follow me now, and I wonder if he can sense how nervous I am. Can he smell it from my pheromones? My heart’s beating so loudly in my ears he might as well hear it, too.

I get a little ahead, but Theo catches up to me, slowing by my side. My gut twists, but I try to shake the feeling off. “You really don’t have to do this.” The low breathiness of his voice gives me goosebumps.

“I am doing this,” I reply, glaring at him briefly. “Can you walk fine? Are you not lightheaded?”

“I’m…I’m all good.”

At least he seems to have given up on convincing me I’m not really ready to do this. He shuts up and walks a few steps behind me until we get to the parking lot.

Why am I getting so frustrated?

Why did I open my mouth and agree to do this?

Sighing and rubbing the back of my neck, I turn back at him to make sure he’s not just faking being okay for the sake of his ego.

He’s holding his hand up in the towel, his gaze a little distant, but the second he notices my attention, his eyes light up, and he smiles as if to soothe me.

And goddammit, it makes me feel all…weird.

When we get to my car, I point for him to sit in the passenger seat, and he hesitantly obliges. The moment I turn on the engine, my mind starts swirling. It’s like there is a tornado in there.

I want to tell him how angry it makes me that he acts so damn careful.

How it’s the exact thing I wanted to avoid—being treated like this delicate, broken, sad little thing.

I want to tell him how violated I felt when I found out he knew about what happened, that he’d kept it to himself while waltzing around me, using it to his advantage.

But to each of those perfectly reasonable issues, this other, irrational part of me retorts with a completely opposing counterargument.

Isn’t alphas being cautious around me exactly what I wanted?

What I need most of all? Isn’t that the reason I can handle being alone in a car with him without my mind going to those awful scenarios it makes up when I’m close to any other alpha?

That I feel fairly safe with him, which is huge, as Dr. Stewart would say?

That the scent of his pheromones doesn’t send that horrible, prickling sense of panic throughout the tips of my fingers?

And how was he supposed to tell me? He said he’s heard whispers and put things together.

I guess my behavior in the restroom was hysterical enough for him to connect the dots.

I knew there would be some gossip. Knew it would come out at some point, or at least in bits and pieces.

So how is it his fault that the information got to him?

Did I expect him to walk up to me straight away, going, ‘Hey, I heard you got raped by a bunch of alphas, is that true?’.

I’m slowly going crazy, arguing with myself like a lunatic, until Theo’s voice snaps me back into reality.

“I didn’t do it on purpose, you know,” he whispers as I’m driving out of the parking lot and turning to merge onto the highway.

Thankfully, because of my appointments, I know the way to the hospital well.