She couldn’t imagine that he’d think she was going to sing with his band. What? And watch women hang all over him?

“I don’t come inside your house. I’ll respect that. This is your space. But you respect mine. You don’t decide the clubhouse needs to be cleaned. You don’t cater a party or come to one. You don’t go into the laundry business.”

“You’ve lost your mind,” she whispered. Maybe he had. She felt a little as if she’d lost hers.

“I just want you to understand, Seychelle, because I mean every fuckin’ word I’m saying to you. You come to my territory for any reason, then all bets are off, and you belong to me. Do you understand what that would mean? You show up, you’re making the choice to be with me. That’s how I’m taking it. That’s what you’re declaring. And there won’t be any going back from it.”

She wasn’t a child. He couldn’t be making himself any clearer. She definitely understood every single word he said. It wasn’t like she was going to choose to go sing with his band. Or clean his clubhouse. Or wash his clothes. Or watch some woman blow him.

“I think I got it, Savage.” Her throat was so raw, it burned when she whispered to him.

“I’m not just going to leave you like this. I’ve texted Steele, and he’s on his way. Once he tells me you’re good, then I’ll go. He’s our doc.”

Fear coursed through her, bright and hot. She didn’t want a doctor examining her, not again. Never again. She didn’t want someone telling her—or him—her days were numbered. She didn’t need to hear that. She knew she looked scared. She could tell he saw too much just by the look on his face when she involuntarily pulled back, making herself small and giving a little cry of pain, both hands covering her temples and then her eyes.

Savage dimmed the lights immediately. He pulled her favorite tank she wore to bed from her drawer along with her little shorts, and impersonally pulled her shirt from over her head and then got rid of her bra. Without a word, he dressed her in her pajamas. Seychelle ignored him, rolling onto her side. She didn’t want to look at him. Her vision was so blurred anyway, trying to focus on anything, especially Savage, just made her sicker.

Eventually, she became aware of a second man in the room, sitting next to her on the bed, murmuring softly to Savage. She shivered violently, continually, her teeth chattering. She recognized those signs. Her body tried to rid itself of the toxic diseases she’d taken on from another party. Steele’s hands were cool on her temples. Then her ankle. He stroked his fingers over her skin. She ignored both men, wishing they’d just go away.

She must have said it aloud.

“I heard you,” Savage said.

Tears blurred her vision. “Please don’t come back.”

He brushed the tears from her face. “You remember what I said. Every word I said, Seychelle. If you come to me, there’s no taking that back.” Savage didn’t leave immediately. He stood there a long time and then framed her face with both hands. “I swear to you, I gave you the best of me.” He brushed a kiss across her lips, and then he was gone, taking her heart and soul with him. Taking everything and leaving her with nothing.

EIGHT

Savage didn’t like one single thing Steele had to say to him about what he found when he examined Seychelle. Steele had psychic talents. He had the ability to heal and the capability to do surgery psychically. He’d saved Player, one of the Torpedo Ink brothers, when no brain surgeon could have done so. He was a powerful doctor, a surgeon, healing both physically or psychically, and yet he didn’t hold out much hope for Seychelle.

“She’s a psychic healer, Savage,” Steele told him with a sigh, pushing a hand through his hair as they walked out the door of the cottage together. “I’m sorry, brother. I wish I had something good to tell you, but I don’t. She doesn’t heal others in the same way I do. She takes on the actual illness or injury, and I don’t do that. It could kill her. It is killing her. Her body is wearing out. She can’t keep it up, not at the rate she’s going.”

Savage’s breath caught in his lungs. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Her heart is damaged. She doesn’t have heart disease, but she must have tried to heal someone with heart disease, or she took it on. There are signs of all kinds of other illnesses. She has to stop and let her body rest, Savage. Seriously. That girl is worn out.”

Savage hung his head. He should have seen it. All along the signs were there. Seychelle did need him. Physical pain wasn’t the same as taking on disease. He’d been so worried about what he might do to her, what she might think of him, and all along she was killing herself slowly, allowing those around her to kill her because she couldn’t stop herself. That was what she meant by her lack of control. Now it was too late. Torpedo Ink had a code. He couldn’t go back to her until she invited him back. Unless she came to him. In the meantime, he had to find ways to keep her safe.

Tags: Christine Feehan Torpedo Ink Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net