Taken by a Monster (In the Arms of Monsters 2)

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Her speech was slow, filled with chattering lips.

“This isn’t what I wanted.”

She chuckled. “We never get what we really want. You took me and now I’m going to die.”

“You’re not going to die.”

“You don’t know how I feel, and I’m going to die,” she said. “It is probably best. With all the ink, Preacher wouldn’t want me now anyway.”

“Then he doesn’t deserve you.”

“You only want me because of him.”

He held her even tighter. Before he could respond, she passed out again, and he cursed. “Fuck!”

It felt like hours before the doctor finally arrived and when he did, Reaper was pissed for waiting so fucking long. “Fix her.”

He didn’t want her to die, and he also didn’t want to think about the reason why he didn’t want her to die. All he wanted was for the doctor to fix her.

Climbing out of bed, he pulled on a pair of jeans and waited.

The doctor made some assessments. “She needs to go to the hospital.”

“No,” Reaper said. “You need to keep her alive here. Whatever life you think you have waiting for you back at home, I will take all of that away if you don’t heal her.”

“She’s very sick. I’m suspecting hypothermia.”

“Then do what you need to do. My boys and I will get what you need, but do everything you can to make her well, otherwise, I’m going to use you to practice all of my painful torture methods.” Reaper stepped away and watched the man work.

He hated to see Robin so ill.

Running a hand down his face, he thought she looked close to death.

What would he do if she did die?

When he first took her, he’d intended to cut pieces off her and send them to Preacher to taunt him. He’d given up the very idea of that. Now, he … he enjoyed her company. What the fuck was wrong with him? All of this started purely for his hatred of Preacher, and now, well, he didn’t even know what to do with his feelings.

Preacher had always had a superiority complex and as the years went on, it had only gotten worse. He believed he was better than anyone else, harder, stronger, fiercer, but he wasn’t anything, not to Reaper.

Look at the way he was running around like a fucking loser trying to catch him. The prick couldn’t find him, and why would he? Preacher thought his reach and fear were so great but they weren’t even close. He would make sure Preacher knew real pain in this life, but he was starting to believe Robin wasn’t the key to do it. Not anymore.

The doctor finished his assessment. “I need these supplies,” he said, handing him over a list.

Reaper looked over them and didn’t understand what they were, but he knew he could read. “Keep her alive.”

****

Robin opened her eyes. Everything seemed a little … slow. She lifted her hand to touch her head and even her arm ached. What was wrong with her?

“You’re awake,” Reaper said.

She turned her head. Reaper sat in a chair beside the bed. He got up and stepped closer to the bed.

“What happened?”

“You were sick. The doctor suspected hypothermia and there’s been a bug going around. A strong one.”

She closed her eyes, wincing at his talking.

“Am I speaking too loud?”

“Yeah, sorry, and a little too fast.”

“I’ll slow it down.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for.”

“For being sick. I don’t remember anything.” She frowned. “We were at a mall, right?”

“Yes.”

“That makes some kind of sense. Who am I kidding? It makes no sense.”

He chuckled. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been run over by a truck. I think I’ll live though, right?”

“Yeah. Let me go and get the doctor.” He looked reluctant to leave.

When he did, she sat up, trying to clear the fog from her brain. It didn’t take long for him to return. The doctor asked her a bunch of questions and checked her pulse and blood pressure.

“You’re over the worst. I recommend resting for a few more days. No strenuous activity and continue taking the course of treatment I’ve set until it’s all gone. You were lucky. This could have taken your life.”

“I’m a strong woman, Doc. It’s going to take a lot to get rid of me, or for me to give up that easily,” she said. Her voice sounded croaky even to herself.

Reaper saw the doctor out, and she pushed the blankets off her. She was wearing a long shirt.

“What are you trying to do?” Reaper asked, coming to her side.

“Go to the bathroom. How long was I out? Do I need to shower?”

“You’ve been out of it for a week and a half. Let’s not worry too much about showers and all of that.”

“I really need to use the bathroom.” She lifted her arm and sniffed. “I don’t stink. Did you shower me?”