The Girl Who Dared to Rise by Bella Forrest

Author:Bella Forrest [Forrest, Bella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nightlight
Published: 2017-12-17T16:00:00+00:00

20

“Hold still,” Quess snapped as I edged away from his fingers, which were probing my ribs.

I shot him a mulish look and then forced myself to be still, fighting the instincts that urged me to stop the pressure he was placing against my aching ribs, lest they finally snap.

Pain bloomed as he carefully felt each rib, checking to make sure they weren’t broken, and I held my breath, gritting my teeth against the agony. I jerked again when he hit a particularly painful spot—but this time he didn’t say anything, just continued his probing.

I exhaled sharply when he finally removed his fingers, and then flinched when he placed them on my breastbone. I slapped his hand away. “Don’t,” I said.

I didn’t want to endure any more pokes and prods; my entire body felt like one livid bruise. But it was more than that. I was particularly sensitive there, given that it was where the sentinel had been trying to crush me. I didn’t want anyone touching that area.

Quess’s dark blue eyes grew a shade darker. “You’re being a baby,” he said flatly. “You won’t let us go to the Medica, but that doesn’t mean you can’t let me check you out.”

“You’re not a Medic, remember?” I shot back, still stubbornly clinging to my desperate need not to be touched right then. Okay, yes, I was being childish. But I had been almost crushed under the weight of a four-hundred-and-fifty-pound death machine—which had almost killed my friends. I was allowed to be childish.

Quess scowled at me, and then put his hands right back on my breastbone, ignoring my wishes. I fought the urge to punch him off, and instead clenched my teeth and tried not to cringe as he probed the bruised bone. His hands moved steadily upward, checking my clavicles, and then were finally, thankfully, removed. I closed my eyes and took a second or two to relax my clenched muscles, and then opened them again and looked around the living room.

It wasn’t hard to see our defeat as my gaze paused on each member of my group. It clung to all of us, as did the hefty knowledge that we had barely escaped with our lives. That we probably would’ve died, if the fighting had gone on just a few moments longer.

Maddox was lying on the floor, a pillow wedged under her head and a gelatin ice pack wrapped in a microfiber cloth pressed over her jaw. One leg was elevated over a chair, another ice pack wrapped around her ankle. Her mouth was pinched, her eyes dark and haunted.

Zoe had her own ice packs wrapped around her ribs, with one of our emergency broken bone packs pressed against her left side. She had likely suffered a fracture there when the sentinel kicked her, and even though we couldn’t be certain, Quess had insisted on treating her for it anyway. She and Eric were both lying on the couch, where he had propped himself up with several pillows from our bedrooms so she could recline against his chest.

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