The Cardinal Bird - Book 1: Reverse Harem Series (The Cardinal Series) Read online

  Chapter 16

  The bus hissed and growled as it pulled to a stop. Brown, leather seats zoomed past me causing a weird strobing effect between the bright afternoon sunshine and slightly cooler shade the tall seats cast. Seat five. Like me. I liked 5. It was how many fingers I had on each hand, how many toes I had on each foot, and how many senses Miss Burley taught us about in class today.

  How many friends I wished I had.

  I gave a shy goodbye to the bus driver as I hopped down. My eyes closed against the harshness of the sun glaring through. It was enough to heat my face, though it wouldn't be that way for much longer in the year. Already the leaves were beginning to change, the days getting shorter, and the nights greedily stretching out into cold, dewy wings that blanketed the earth.

  I took a deep breath, pasted on a smile, and walked up to the house. Mom had painted the front door a bright yellow because she wanted it to be cheery. Dad had said it looked like we were Wisconsin Cheeseheads, in the middle of Pennsylvania what with the green shutters and roof.

  Mom was waiting for me as soon as I stepped in. She took one look at my face and asked, "Wanna talk about it?"

  I shrugged my shoulder as I hung my coat up on the hook.

  Mom tilted her head. "Don't do that, missy. You’re not supposed to be a broody teenager for another eight years, at least. I know something’s bothering you. Might as well tell me."

  I wanted to peak over my shoulder so bad, but then she would see my face and know. Instead, I swallowed as best as I could. "W-we were learning numbers today."

  Though I wasn't looking, I just felt Mom still. "Numbers you say?"

  I swiped a grubby hand across my sniffly nose, using the back of my hand since it was the only clean place. "Y-yes."

  I expected to have to explain more but was surprised when I felt something warm touch my arm very briefly. "Was it Bryan?"

  I shrugged, finally turning to her. She noticed every detail, from my red eyes to the shallow scratches on my cheek. Her hands picked up one of mine, noticing similar red cuts on my palms after she brushed away the caked-on dirt. She eased my hand back to me, rightly assuming that my other hand-matched. "What'd he do?"

  "H-he pushed me down." Among other things, but I wasn't going to admit that. It was embarrassing enough having to admit that I didn’t have friends.

  "What's Bryan's last name again?" she asked carefully even though I hadn’t admitted it was him.

  "Weltz," I sniffed out as steadily as I possibly could. It was kind of crazy to be feeling how many strong emotions could be packed into my tiny little body. I wasn't sure how to act or what to do. Everything was shaky and unsure.

  "I think I know his mom," she said calmly, going to pull out her phone.

  I was equal parts terrified and hopeful. Maybe Bryan would stop picking on me after tomorrow. I hadn't wanted to tell Mom that it was getting worse. Bryan was starting to get his friends to pick on me. Everyone else in the class was backing off from me as well. When we were playing in the kitchen area today, everyone had slowly walked away as I came up to join them.

  Maybe this would work. Maybe Mom could fix things.

  She leaned close to me. "There you go, all better. Now, chin up. You can't let them see that they get to you. It only eggs them on. This'll all be fixed tomorrow. I promise."

  I nodded, just the smallest amount of doubt creeping in as I thought, 'but what if it wasn't fixed tomorrow?'

  She chuffed me under the chin. "None of that now. How about we go clean up your hands, and then we can have some blueberry muffins."

  When that only got a watery smile from me in return, she pulled out the big guns. "Aaand, if you're good, I'll let you play around in some 2nd-grade math workbooks I picked up today at a yard sale. How's that sound, bite-sized?"

  My eyes were big and round. I leaned towards her. "2nd-grade math? Really, really, really? You promise?"

  This was too good to be true. I had already gotten bored with the first-grade math stuff my mom had gotten me last month after the parent-teacher conference with Miss Burkley.

  She just laughed. "Callie," she said, smiling at me.

  I paused and looked at her. "What?"

  It was as if she didn't hear me. "Callie! CALLIE!" Everything disappeared.

  I groaned.

  "Callie!" a voice shouted.

  I felt myself being shaken, but it didn't matter to me.

  I wanted to go back to sleep. I hadn't had a good dream in so long...

  "CJ, something is--"

  "Callie! Wake-up! C'mon! The doctor says that you need to wake-up."

  I tried to. I really did. I went to open my eyes, but they felt like lead. I wanted to panic, but my body stayed limp. I didn't want to go back to sleep. My dreams were slowly morphing into nightmares.

  "Shit! Dr. Scott, she won't wake up. What do we--"

  "Jace, I'm going to let the Henley team know that we'll probably need an emergency landing directly in Norfolk. They'll have to let Air Traffic Control know so that customs can meet our flight there. It shouldn't be a problem since we have the extradition papers, but it's an international flight with a wanted..."

  That reality faded out as I was pulled back to sleep.

  "Plea...," I whimpered, using a tremendous amount of energy doing so. "Make...stop."

  "Callie? Can you hear me? Do you understand?"

  I tried to answer, but I couldn't. I was washing dishes.

  I was washing dishes when Mom came in and tickled me.

  No, that wasn't right. I had to focus.

  I had to be quiet, or Dad would come in. I didn't want him to come in. He might yell at me or take away my math books again.

  "Callie? It's me. CJ. Can you hear me?"

  "Can I go to bed?"

  My hazel eyes met Dad’s.

  I couldn't see the expression on his face because the moon was lit behind him, casting his face in shadows, but I could see his head move as he nodded. I carefully got down from the stool, waited a few seconds, and then went up to get ready for bed.

  The warmth in the rest of the house thawed my mind and body enough that I was curious about what Dad had gotten me. I was ready to pass out from exhaustion, but I made myself get out of the warm covers and cross the room to my desk. There was enough light coming in from the window that I didn't have to turn on the light. That was good.

  I carefully ripped away the brown paper and pulled out the object he’d given me earlier. It was easy to recognize as a book. Even from the back, I could tell that it had been well-used but cherished.

  I looked at the front of the book. Coding for Dummies.

  That was interesting. Dad never got me books. Especially after I was in trouble.

  I twitched, groaning.

  It was dark, pitch black. The large metal container could've easily held six of my bedrooms, so the groaning metal was a constant growl that made it hard to sleep, especially when it harmonized in a deafening roar with the countless other containers that I'd heard being loaded.

  There were at least three stacked atop of the one I was in. I'd lost count of how many had been stacked in rows around me, but I knew that it was a large enough number that I was definitely on a cargo ship.

  The floor pitched as the angry Atlantic slammed into the hull. We were a rubber ducky at the mercy of an angry child. I went sliding, colliding with the steel wall with a painful thump that was silenced under the thunderous cacophony from the other containers.

  I wasn't sure how long I'd been in here for. Long enough to know we weren't in US territory anymore. Long enough to eat half of the food that had been left, even while pacing myself. Aside from the rations and a bucket, there was nothing in here, which was why I was left to be tossed around, unable to brace myself. Thankfully the boat could only pitch side to side. It would be a 20-foot drop if I'd fallen forward.

  I wasn't sure how long I could hold out. Exhaustion was setting in, and I was sooo...tired...

  I fought to wake up, somewhat aware that I was trapped in my memories and knowing that my past would only get worse from here.

  It was a battle. I was nearly pulled back under. Thinking of all the things that I didn't want to relive only brought them up in my mind that much faster. Being kidnapped, all-consuming darkness as I was sent across the Atlantic in a shipping container, dangerous assignments, more dangerous assignments...Nikolai's punishments...the tank. Kaz.

  No! Not Kaz!

  I woke up.

  Chapter 17

  Iopened my eyes.

  My first thought was that someone had hit me, backed up, and run over me again for good measure. My other thought was that Nikolai must have found me because I was restrained to a bed, or at least it felt like I was. After a heart-splitting moment, I realized that it only felt that way because there were so many things hooked up to my body, restricting my movement.

  The racing of my heart had coincided with a beeping next to the head of the bed. A quick glance told me it was a heart monitor. I was in a hospital.

  The room was medium-sized with a huge window that illuminated the bright walls to a glaring degree. The walls were decorated with a large painting and a large whiteboard that had some of my and my nurse's names written on it in big loopy letters.

  Since the whiteboard said, "Hello Callie! My name is Ms. Hannah. I will be your nurse today!" I figured that we had made it to the US or at least to a country that spoke English.

  Lines and wires zigzagged a trail across my body, all hooked up and doing various things. Someone had taken the t-shirt and basketball shorts I'd been wearing and replaced them with a flimsy, seafoam green gown. I blinked a few times, feeling my head pulse in pain. Finally, my eyes seemed to adjust a bit, simmering down to a tolerable ache.

  I went to sit up and could feel the tight bandaging secured around my thigh and stomach as it restricted my movements somewhat.

  Before I could take any more details in, the door opened, drawing my attention.

  A slender woman in her late fifties or early sixties pushed the door open with her back so that she could continue writing something on the clipboard in her hands. She was a petite, tall thing with frizzy, white-orange hair and warm brown eyes. Her movements were strong and assured despite her petite stature and older age.

  I very carefully bent my wrist back to slip the IV line out of my arm. My eyes stayed on the woman as I tried to keep my movements as still as possible. I had the needle out and gripped like a spear in a white-knuckled fist before she even looked up. Our eyes met, and she nearly dropped the paperwork she had been so absorbed in.

  "Oh, you scared me, Callie," she said, her hand fluttering to her heart. Her familiar manner at using my name so casually caught me by surprise. She had a slight English accent.

  Were we in England? That hadn’t been the plan.

  How had they cleared me through customs, unconscious? And surely, wherever we were wasn't the place they had planned to go originally. Who takes a direct international flight from Estonia to...wherever we were now?

  I went to speak, had to swallow and clear my throat, and tried again. It still came out like a hoarse croak. "Where am I?"

  She smiled at me all warm and grandmotherly, but I had seen someone smile like that before. They’d been wearing the same grin as they carved up a body with an electric knife. My hand tightened on my pseudo-weapon as she got closer.

  "You're in Norfolk. Norfolk, Virginia to be exact."

  So we made it to the US.

  The woman held her hand up, cutting off my next question. "And before you hurt your throat trying to ask more questions, let me take a guess at them. I've been doing this for a while. Uh, let's see...okay, you've been here four days. You're healing just fine. There were several surgeons that operated on you, but it was all done anonymously due to the secrecy of your case. Because of that, Dr. Scott declared himself your main doctor. It was unusual but allowed. Also, Dr. Harper had already been read in on your case, so he is also your advising doctor.”

  I wondered why it was unusual for Dr. Scott to declare himself my main doctor. Did he not usually do that?

  The woman marked something on her clipboard. “The way they tell it, you were in a right state when they brought you in. You were barely a hair's breadth from sepsis, and things were touch and go. As it is, you're still fighting off some of the staph infection. Those boys were very upset with you for not telling them you were experiencing those symptoms Dr. Scott told you to look out for, by the way.

  "Brock was supposed to take guard shift that night to watch your room, but they had to switch him out because they couldn't get him to stop hitting things and scaring all the other hapless patients." Her eyes had...something in them. Something knowing. Something sly. "Of course, he was able to pick up the very next round because they threatened that they wouldn't let him in at all if he couldn't get his anger under control. As far as I know, he hasn't left since except to shower or eat. You must have left quite the impression on him, Hun."

  I was sure that whatever she was implying was nowhere in the vicinity of being correct, but I felt my cheeks heat up anyway.

  "Now," she said, patting my knee through the blanket. "If my skills haven't gotten all rusty in my years, that should've answered your most pressing questions. I'll let you think all of that over while I go track you down some ice chips." She set the clipboard down and gave me a quick once-over. "And maybe some breakfast as well. Are you hungry?"

  I nodded my head. Always take food where you can get it.

  "Sounds good." She gave me a wink and left, murmuring something to someone that was out of view just outside the door. They didn't come in whoever they were.

  Idly, I wondered if it was Brock. Something Jace had said triggered in my mind...Brock only yelled if he cared?

  That thought strand was potentially dangerous and painful if I let myself ponder it too long, so I tried to focus on something else—like the fact that we had actually made it to Norfolk.

  Idly, I wondered if my mom and dad were still living in the same green and yellow house in Pennsylvania. If so, they were only a few states away. It was an emotionless thought, like what I imagined someone would feel if they were wondering how their ex from ten years ago was doing. If I had been in this situation a month ago, I would've probably been chomping at the bit to go home--but that was then, and this was now. Nikolai Ivanov may have tried to break me with the information he’d shared the last time I tried to escape, but at least I was no longer ignorant about the true nature of my parents.

  I didn't want to think about my parents any more than I wanted to wonder if it was Brock diligently guarding me just outside the door, so I continued my examination of the room instead.

  Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and, at any rate, the nurse had given me more information than anything I had received from the room. I'd almost stopped my perusal completely, but then my eyes zeroed in on the clipboard.

  I went to sit up and felt a deep burn and ache as if all of my muscles had been lined with sandpaper and were rubbing against each other. I fell back against the bed, shaking. I tried again with similar results. Like a Band-Aid, I coached myself as I surged forward. The pain wasn't so bad once I was vertical. I had been grazed and shot before but never thrown in the cesspool of the tank immediately afterward. It would take some adjustment to get used to the infection. I hoped I was never in that situation again.