Broken Songbird (Vicious Games #2)

33. Chapter 33

D el and I make our way through the Thai food like we haven’t eaten in a year, and then Mum makes an unexpected appearance with arms full of flowers and tears already streaming down her face, followed by Dad.

After setting up the flowers on our side tables, Mum pulls Del into a hug and bursts into loud sobs. Del visibly relaxes into the hug and wraps her arms around Mum as much as she can with the cast.

They stand like that for a while, not saying anything, not needing to. Dad comes to my side and plants a kiss on top of my head, then regards me with a soft smile.

“How are you, darling?” he asks.

I grab his hand, needing his sure touch to anchor myself from the surge of emotions blasting through me. “I’m okay.”

He says nothing else, just squeezes my hand a little firmer.

Mum’s crying quietens, and she pulls back. Del wipes the tears from her cheeks, then kisses each one.

“I love you,” Mum says.

“I love you, too,” Del returns. My heart aches; I don’t think I’ve ever heard her say those words to Mum out loud.

Mum finally releases her, then turns to me with already watering eyes. Dad releases my hand and crosses to Del as she rushes toward me.

“Watch the ribs,” I say as she leans down and wraps me in her arms.

She sobs into my shoulder, making me tear up, so I close my eyes, wrapping my arms around her tight despite the move tweaking my ribs. We also don’t need to say anything. I can feel the wave of relief, the lingering panic and fear, the overwhelming love in the touch.

Mum pulls back a little more composed, and she cups my face.

“I love you,” she says, her voice hoarse.

“I love you too, Mum,” I say, my voice thick with unshed tears.

She takes in a deep inhale and releases me, producing a handkerchief from somewhere and dabs at her face.

My eyes flick back to Dad and he’s now looking at Del’s chart. This isn’t the children’s hospital, so Dad technically doesn’t work here, but he’s renowned in the medical field, so they obviously made exceptions for him in terms of our care when we got admitted. He mutters something discernible and crosses over to collect my chart, announces he’ll be back, then walks out, probably going to the nurse’s station.

Mum starts fussing over us, asking us if we’ve eaten, if we need anything, then insists we let her braid our hair so it’s easier to manage.

I’m super grateful she does because I knew my hair needed a good brush and doing that with broken ribs would have sucked .

As Mum is finishing Del’s second boxer braid, Dad returns with a smiling nurse wheeling in a cart of medical supplies.

Dad goes straight to the hand wash station and starts scrubbing his hands.

“I would like to look at your leg while I’m here,” he says over his shoulder to me as he’s drying his hands with paper towels.

Nerves flutter rapidly in my gut as I nod. The nurse helps me out of the chair I’m sitting in and back to bed. Dad comes over to my other side where the medical cart is with gloves on.

He gives me a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, darling. I just want to check there aren’t signs of infection.”

“It’s okay,” I reassure him. “I know.”

“If it gets too much, we can stop, and someone can check when you’re asleep.”

“I’d rather you do it.”

Dad searches my face for a moment longer, then nods, picks up bandage shears and cuts at the bandages. He peels them away, revealing gauze padding, then pulls that away slowly and carefully.

Mum sucks in a sharp breath as the stitched-up wound is revealed. I vaguely hear Del tell her to sit down as I stare at the initials now forever etched into my thigh.

“Piece of shit.” Those words from Dad shock me, pulling my attention from my thigh to him. A hardness I’ve never seen from him etches across his face as he regards the wound.

“I’m going to make some phone calls,” Mum announces with the ferocity that makes her a formidable lawyer. “The people I represent will make him go away permanently .”

A laugh bursts out of me, shocking myself and everyone in the room. The hysterical bark turns into garbled pained noises as it feels like someone hacks into my side.

Once I can breathe enough to talk without pain, I look at my beautiful mum. “I think me and Del dating two of the most dangerous people in this city, hell, this country, has that covered.”

She opens her mouth to say something but pauses, then sits back, closing her mouth.

I turn back to Dad, who’s moving my thigh slightly while he observes the skin around the wound, pressing gently but firmly in places.

“Any pain?” he asks.

“Not really, maybe a dull ache when you press it.”

He hums approvingly and then sits back. “It’s looking good.”

His words are supposed to be reassuring, but the tone and his face don’t match the words.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

He looks up at me, the worry clear in his face. “Are you?”

I take a moment to find the right words before answering him. “I know I’m going to have struggles to come, but we made it out. And this,” I gesture at my leg. “I know it’s going to scar. I’ve come to terms with that.”

“ I haven’t come to accept those terms yet,” he says.

I give him a knowing smile. “It won’t go away, Dad. And it’s going to remind me what happened, remind you , but we survived. That’s all that matters.”

His face turns contemplative as he opens a packet of gauze and places it over the wound, then picks up a new roll of bandage.

“I’d like you to see someone,” he says as he wraps my leg. “To talk to that isn’t me.”

“I will,” I say. “I want to.”

He looks at Del across the room expectantly.

“I’ve already gotten in contact with my psych,” she says.

“Good,” he says, then finishes wrapping the wound and tapes it down.

Once he cleans up, he speaks to the nurse about pain medication while Mum comes over and literally tucks me into bed. I let her—I know her fussing like this eases her nerves, which I’m sure are more than rattled.

“I know you’re an adult, and can look after yourself,” she says, grabbing my hand. “But I think it would be good for the first few days that you come back home and let us take care of you.”

“I—”

“Just for a few days,” she reassures me in a rush. “I know your father will appreciate it, so he knows you’re taking the antibiotics and doing the breathing exercises for your ribs.”

“I will.”

Mum blinks. I know she was expecting me to refuse, but being alone right now sounds awful, and I don’t want to burden Creed with my care.

“We’ll set up the guest room downstairs so you don’t have to go up the stairs,” she says, then kisses my forehead.

Mum and I chat idly while the nurse disappears and Dad checks Del’s arm wound. He’s finished by the time the nurse comes back with medication, and they say their quick goodbyes, promising to come past tomorrow.

Del and I both take our medication and the nurse clears out, after which we both settle into bed, waiting for the drugs to kick in.

I curl up on my left, facing Del, pulling the blankets up to my chin. I close my eyes and try to quieten my mind, but there are things I want to say to her.

“Del,” I whisper, not daring to open my eyes.

“Yeah?” she says just as quietly.

“None of what happened was your fault,” I say softly. “I know you won’t believe me, but there’s nothing to apologise for, and there’s nothing for me to forgive.”

She’s silent for a moment. “Okay.”

We fall into silence again, and I take a slow breath, finding the courage to ask the question that’s plagued me since our time in that house. “I…I want to ask you about something that…that Adrian said.”

“What is it?” she asks with no hesitation, her tone even.

“He said your… union was blessed.” Disgust laces my tone, and I clear my throat. “When you first met Dad at the hospital, was it because you were pregnant?”

She’s silent again. I’m about to apologise and promise to never ask again, but then she sighs. “Yeah, I was.”

I open my eyes. I knew deep down that was the case, but the confirmation still shocks me. In the dim light, I can see she’s lying on her back, staring at the ceiling.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that at all, but also do it alone.”

She rolls her head toward me and gives me a watery smile. “I feel so much sorrow for Delphine having to go through all of it,” she says. “The only good thing out of it all is that Del met her sister Scar in a safe place, and I absolutely love that for her. For me.”

A tear slides down my nose. “I love that for you and for me, too.”