Broken King: An Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance by Penelope Fifield

Author:Penelope Fifield [Fifield, Penelope]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: After Midnight
Published: 2020-07-02T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

As I wait to be wheeled to the CT scanner, I consider unhooking myself and escaping the hospital. What kinds of things can they do with indisposed, battered young women? I could hardly form proper sentences an hour ago, and there could potentially be a bleed in my brain from an unknown source.

I know that the odds are stacked against me as far as protecting my true identity. And goddammit, I need to find Adrian!

Conflict pulls at my guts as I weigh the potential for disaster on either side. If I stay, my injuries will be taken care of, and I can likely enlist the help of my new social worker to find a new life, a normal life, somewhere safer.

However, if I stay and my family finds me, I’m as good as dead anyway. Both of my sisters are most likely dead on my behalf, and I’ve weakened the mafia’s fortress against law enforcement by showing up here. I’m sure that if the doctor’s looked up my surname, they’d discover a slew of arrest records and investigations related to Adrian’s side of the family. My involvement would not go unnoticed.

If I were able to find Adrian, we could leave again like my sister said. We could leave the country this time. But, of course, if I leave the hospital prematurely, there’s a high chance that I’ll be fucked up forever, from my fractured ribs to my newly-limited mental bandwidth.

Before I’m able to spiral into a complete tailspin, a small woman dressed in blue scrubs knocks lightly on the glass sliding doors of my room. I gesture for her to enter, and I read her ID badge, which has her labeled as a transporter.

Good, at least now I won’t be in the same place if my father comes looking for me. The transporter gives me a spiel of dos and don’ts for the harrowing journey to the CT scanning room, most of which I tune out. As she pulls my bed out of the room, I glance down the hallways frantically searching for any sign of my parents, or even of Adrian.

The transporter chatters with other transporters as she wheels me down a myriad of hallways, each as beige and lacking character as the last. The transporter tells me that she needs to stop by the nurse’s station, and she parks me by a wall near an exit leading to a courtyard.

As I see her scuttle over to the help desk, tapping away on her phone, the urge to leap from my bed consumes me. I’m still wearing my original clothes, and now that I’m unbound from the cervical collar, I can move freely. The transporter is clearly preoccupied as she shows a video of a chihuahua to an unamused nurse. Would she even know if I disappeared?

I carefully release the IVs from my hand, immediately placing pressure on the pinprick left behind. The fluids from the bag begin to drip onto the floor, and I panic. The transporter is still holding the nurse hostage with dog videos and photos of her nephew.

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