Wrathling - Chapter 6
Series Rating: E
Ship: John Seed x Patience Ekner (deputy oc)
Word count: ~4.7k
Series masterlist
Read it on ao3.
“Fractured rib,” Dr. What’s-His-Face said at her gasp of pain, while he gently palpated her sides. He’d introduced himself to her, but she didn’t care to commit his name to memory.
Scribbling something down on a legal pad, he addressed Jacob. “Normally I wouldn’t suggest bed rest for a fractured rib. But, with the other wounds and contusions, I think she should spend two or three days in bed, minimum, maybe up to a week.”
Jacob nodded pensively, showing a level of interest Patience found surprising. “Does she need to wear a compression wrap?”
“No.” She doctor shook his head. “It could do more harm than good by restricting her breathing. She should ice her rib every few hours for the next couple days, as well as any of the more painful bruises. The wound should be cleaned, and its bandage should be changed daily,” he said, gesturing to the stab wound on her thigh. “More often, if needed. Watch for any signs of infection, including fever. Practice standard care for the new tattoo.”
Jacob nodded along with every new instruction. “Should the pain become unmanageable or interfere with her sleep, give her one of these pills. Just don’t overdo it. They can be habit-forming.”
The doctor ripped the note from the pad and passed it to Jacob, along with a small orange bottle of pills. Aside from when he’d first introduced himself, he had ignored Patience the entire time she’d been in the infirmary. She’d never felt more like a pet at a veterinarian, and she’d actually been treated by a veterinarian before. She wasn’t sure if he just had a terrible bedside manner or if it was just because Jacob was there.
Folding the note and tucking it into his pocket, the Herald turned to Patience and asked, “Can you walk, or do I need to carry you?”
She scoffed indignantly, despite the fact that walking was actually incredibly difficult and painful. She’d rather fall flat on her ass than let Jacob Seed carry her around. She only hoped that wherever she was to be kept was close by.
As she hobbled down the hall, she let Jacob help hold her upright, only because she had no other option. He slowed as they, finally, approached an isolated door down a long hall. Jacob let her fall onto the bed just inside as they spilled through the door. She worked to situate herself as painlessly as possible on the extra-long twin bed while Jacob closed the double-doors to the balcony, locking them with a key he deposited into his pocket.
“Can’t have you running off on me.”
Patience rolled her eyes and gestured up and down her bruised and broken body. “I don’t think I could.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t have a good sense of self-preservation.”
“Good enough to know I should leave.”
He snorted out a laugh, but otherwise ignored her words. Pointing things out in the small space he told her, “Bathroom is through that door there, but there’s no tub. So, no showering until you’re off bedrest. Record player’s on the dresser and albums are in that cabinet over there. I’ll get some clothes brought up for you. I’ll have someone come up to bring you meals, refill your water, and clean your wounds. Try not to get up too often.”
Patience was surprised. “You’re actually letting me go on bed rest?”
“I take care of what’s mine.”
A wave of revulsion flowed through her at that, and she made no move to hide it. “I am not yours.”
“Well, if you’re not mine, you’re John’s. And I’d take care of what’s his, too.” He smiled cruelly.
“John is the one who did this to me,” she said stonily.
“Well, Johnny’s always played a little too rough with his toys. Something you might want to take into consideration.”
She continued to glare at him, but stayed silent.
“I have things to attend to. I’ll send someone in with dinner for you in a few hours, and I’ll be back late tonight.”
“Why?” she muttered, absently picking at the pilling blanket below her.
He snorted again. “For bed. I know I have a lot of responsibilities, but I don’t actually sleep at my desk.”
A cold wave a fear washed over her. “For bed? This is your room?” She looked around the room with new eyes.
“Sure is.” That cruel smile was back. “Wouldn’t do to keep the Mrs. in a separate bedroom.”
Her eyes widened in shock and anger. The Mrs.? Patience didn’t even know where to begin in refuting that statement. She would never marry him. And even if they would be married, they weren’t now. And wouldn’t a religious cult frown on that? Besides, did he really think he could keep her here? Even injured, the Resistance would look for her. And she would kill Jacob before she let him lay a single finger on her.
Instead of any of those things, she said, “It’s a twin bed.”
“It is.”
She hated how calm he stayed while pressing her buttons, and liked to imagine she’d be able to keep it together better if she wasn’t in excruciating pain. And kidnapped.
Taking a shaky breath to compose herself, she said, “I’d rather stay outside in a cage.”
“Well, that isn’t up to you.” With that, he shut the door behind himself and left her alone, the lock clicking ominously into place.
That asshole.
Of course this was Jacob’s room. It was so obvious once it was pointed out to her. The old-fashioned record player, the balcony access, the red accents throughout the space, including the bedspread she was laid out on. The twin bed had thrown her for a loop, especially after seeing how John lived at Seed Ranch, but it was utilitarian in a way she thought Jacob might be pretentiously proud of.
Patience took a deep breath that, of course, hurt her fractured rib. She was tempted to get up and check the doors, but it wouldn’t matter. Jacob wouldn’t be sloppy enough to grant her an escape route and, as she’d pointed out him, she wouldn’t be able to make it very far even if she did get free.
She considered getting under the covers, but the amount of movement and adjusting it would require would hardly be worth it. Instead, she turned her head, burying it in the surprisingly soft pillow. Suddenly assaulted by the scent she’d recently come to associate with Jacob, she whipped her head back up to stare again at the ceiling.
Three days. A week at the most. That’s what the doctor said. She could do that. Just heal. Regain her strength and get the fuck out of dodge. Rest…
Patience opened her eyes when the door slammed loudly shut. She blinked the sleep from her eyes, the bright fluorescents a shock to her system.
“Sleep ok?” Jacob asked in his low timbre. He strode into the room and stripped off his jacket, tossing over the edge of a chair. He toed off his boots and ran a large hand through his hair, looking at her expectantly for an answer. As if this was routine, normal. A regular domestic exchange.
She stared blankly at him.
“Slept heavy it looks like,” he said, gesturing to the bedside table.
On the table was a tray of food. A sandwich in saran wrap, a whole apple, a baggie of pretzels, and bottled water. Beside the tray was a folded pile of clothes in that shade of white that Adelaide had once dubbed “Peggie mayonnaise.” She hadn’t heard anyone enter before Jacob, so she must have really been out of it.
“Are you hungry?”
She shook her head no without thinking, still processing, not fully awake. Jacob took the tray and put it on the floor outside his room before locking the door again. He left only the water and apple on the nightstand, in case she “changed her mind.”
“It’s late. Go into the bathroom. Use the toilet, brush your teeth, whatever you need to do. You need help getting up?”
Once again, she shook her head no. She pushed herself up and swung her legs onto the floor. She managed to keep herself silent, though she was definitely grimacing. Rising to her feet and hobbling toward the bathroom, she was hyperaware of his eyes on her. A few steps before she reached the bathroom, she turned back and spoke for the first time since he’d returned.
“Pass me the clothes.”
“You can change out here.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she otherwise remained unmoving. Jacob acquiesced, crossing the room to gather and hand her the clothes. She took them and yanked her arm away from him, in spite of the ache the motion produced.
She slammed the bathroom door behind herself as he called with a smile in his voice, “Just shout if you need help changing!”
Patience looked at her reflection, hardly recognizing the woman in the mirror. Her long hair was messy from sleep, but her eyes were still rimmed by dark circles. Small cuts and bruises were interspersed with her freckles. She looked terrible, but mostly she looked tired.
Being kidnapped, tortured, and sold off into marriage will do that to a girl.
Scanning the countertop and medicine cabinet didn’t yield a hairbrush, though she did find a comb. It would be woefully inadequate on the amount of hair she had, so Patience just skipped it. A new toothbrush, still in the plastic wrap, sat beside the toothbrush cup holding a used one. Though it was clearly set aside for her, she ignored it as well, turning her attention to the clothing.
Unfolding the pile, she found a pair of socks and a tank top. The sweater included was very thin and slightly oversized. But it was thankfully plain, not emblazoned with their bastardized cross, so she pulled it over her head. The only bottoms in the pile were a soft pair of shorts, presumably to keep her thigh wound accessible for cleaning.
Dressed in a shade of white nearly matching her pale skin, she looked like a bruised, bed-headed specter.
Despite the hours of sleep she’d just gotten, she was still exhausted. Exiting the bathroom, Patience was confronted with Jacob standing just outside the door. A lot of Jacob. A lot more than she’d ever want to see.
The soldier stood before her, arms crossed and legs apart, emulating the stance he’d been in when she arrested his brother. Unlike that time, though, he was wearing only a pair of boxers and the chain around his neck. Now that they were visible, she could see that his scars went all the way down his body. They looked like they had been horrifically painful to receive, and if he were somebody else, maybe she would’ve felt sympathy for him. As it was, she simply brushed past him and made her way to the bed.
She and Jacob didn’t speak to each other as she climbed under the covers, relief washing over her at the feeling of lying down once again. The relief was short-lived, though, as the bed dipped under the man’s weight when he sat down. Patience froze, muscles tight, and squeezed her eyes shut against the dark. She had been almost certain, based on what he’d said earlier, that he intended to share the twin bed with her. But feeling him slide under the blankets and press his large body against hers was another thing all together.
He draped an arm over her, squirmed around in the small space, and finally settled comfortably. Patience opened her eyes, staring into the dark, breathing shallowly, as quietly as possible, trying not to move. To not draw any undue attention to herself.
But when Jacob moved his leg over to cover hers, his coarse, red body hair brushed against her exposed skin and let out a small squeak in surprise. He chuckled lowly and brought his rough lips to her ear, his beard brushing against her jaw while he whispered.
“Relax, honey.”
“Don’t,” she shakily said, fearing the worst from this man who’d claimed she ‘wasn’t bad to look at.’ She was in no shape to defend herself. “I’m on bed rest.”
The hand draped over her rubbed small circles over her stomach. It may have been intended to soothe, but it only served to scare her further.
“Just sleep. I’m not going to do anything.”
She nodded rapidly, further brushing their faces against one another.
Not believing her, he sighed and told her, “I won’t touch you unless you want me to. You might end up married to John, and I don’t think he’d take to kindly to his brother having fucked his wife.”
She nodded again, ignoring his crudeness and unwilling to refute the claim that she’d marry one of them. If that was the only thing keeping his hands on this side of her clothes, she’d nod and agree with him all night.
“Sleep.”
He followed his own command much faster than she did, eventually falling into repetitive snores, his hot, humid exhalations puffing against her neck. Stuck between him and the frigid wall, Patience had trouble relaxing enough to sleep. But somehow, eventually, she did sleep.
And when she woke, she was blessedly alone.
Light streamed in through the uncovered window, the sun warming her face. She was again greeted by the discomfort of her various injuries, but she was hardly surprised. Turning her head, she was confronted by a handheld radio with a sticky note affixed to it. It took her a moment to decipher the messy scrawl, which read “Finish the water and apple. Then radio me.”
The note was unsigned but obviously from Jacob. She wanted to disobey just to piss him off. But the fact was that she was starving, parched, and in pain. And she imagined she probably wouldn’t get ice or painkillers until she let him know she was awake.
So she cracked the seal on the water bottle and downed the entire thing without pausing for breath. She doubted it was drugged and, honestly, wasn’t so opposed to the idea that she felt bothered to check. Drugs brought pain relief, after all. She flattened the empty bottle and started in on the apple.
Red delicious. Ugh.
She grabbed the radio and, assuming it to be programmed to the correct channel, called out for Jacob.
“Be right there,” was his only response.
Damn. She’d hoped he would just send someone to help her. Now she had seeing him to look forward to first thing in the morning. Great. Patience didn’t know where his office was, but it couldn’t be too far away, as he was entering the room within only a few minutes.
He set down a new water bottle and first aid kit and dragged the chair out of the corner of the room to sit beside the bed.
As he folded the blankets down over legs, exposing the bandaged stab wound on her left thigh, he abruptly said, “I’m not interested in playing games.
Yeah. Apparently not, given that opening.
“Okay…?”
“So here’s what’s going to happen– you’re going to end up married to me or to John. That is a fact and there’s no way around it. You’re not escaping. You’re not getting rescued. This is happening.”
Patience raised one arching eyebrow and scoffed.
Intentionally jostling her while he rebandaged her leg, he said, “The sooner you can accept that, the smoother this all goes.”
“Have you considered that I’m escaping, though?”
He ignored her sarcasm. “I don’t know if my brother talks to God or not. But I do know that he hasn’t been wrong yet.”
She pointedly did not respond to that.
“You can choose John or you can choose me. I frankly don’t care who gets you, as neither of us are too eager to take you. So, here’s what the deal is: You can marry whoever. But if you marry me, I have conditions, as I imagine John would. We don’t need to like each other; we just need to get along in public. You’d be faithful to me, and I’d be faithful to you. I would expect consummation of the marriage.”
Patience raised a shocked eyebrow at both the statement and the matter-of-fact way he said it.
“You would need to contribute,” he continued. “You wouldn’t need to join as a soldier if you didn’t want to. You could hunt or fish, work in the mess hall, laundry facilities, whatever. You would not be allowed to aid the resistance in any way. You would have to be loyal to the Project. And I’d expect you give me the Whitetails’ location.”
“Yeah, no, I’m not going to do any of that.”
He brought his warm hands to her chest, removing the bandage from her tattoo and cleaning it with a damp cloth. He gingerly smeared it with ointment, and she sneered at his hands on her skin.
“I can make it easier for you. I can get you in my chair, condition you to feel love and loyalty to me or my brother.”
Patience froze in fear at his words. “…Joseph told you not to do that. It has to be real, he said.”
“Relax, honey, I’m not threatening you,” he said calmly, covering the tattoo once again. “I’m offering you an easy out. No guilt. You’d be happy enough.”
She leveled a glare at him. “You put me anywhere near that chair of yours and it will be the last thing you ever do.”
He simply snorts out a laugh in response. “Cute.”
Patience just crossed her arms petulantly over her chest while Jacob pulled the blanket back over her lap.
“Uncross your arms and take this.”
Jacob held out an ice pack wrapped in a stained kitchen towel, which she gratefully took and placed gently against her rib, grunting quietly at the cold. She continued to hold it lightly to her side as Jacob fiddled with the tray he placed on the bedside table, opening another bottle of water and grabbing the orange pill container.
“Do you want a painkiller?”
She nodded.
He placed the pill in her waiting palm, and she restrained herself from making a displeased face as his large fingers brushed her skin. She dry-swallowed the pill and hoped it would take effect quickly.
“Are you hungry, honey?”
Her eyes narrowed once again. “Don’t call me that.”
He continued to stare at her, unemotional, waiting for her to answer his question.
Eventually she answered. “Yes.”
“You slept through breakfast. The mess hall starts serving lunch in about two hours. You can have a snack in the meantime.” He gestured loosely to the tray. “You want a granola bar? Nut mix? Banana?”
“A banana and granola bar.” She fought her initial instinct to say please.
He peeled the banana himself before handing it to her, presumably because one of her hands was occupied with the ice pack. She resented it anyway.
“Do you need to go to the bathroom? Need any help getting up?”
“No. I’m fine here,” she said tersely.
“I’m busy for the rest of the day, but I’ll have someone bring you lunch when it’s served.”
Patience did not respond.
“I’ll leave the radio here for you. It’s tuned to my channel if you need anything or want to talk.”
Want to talk? She curiously arched an eyebrow.
He sighed. “The whole point of this is to get to know each other, see if we’re compatible. Can’t do that if we spend all day apart.”
She scoffed.
“You will leave the radio on and you will answer when I radio you. Understand?”
She pointedly did not answer, which he apparently read as agreement, as he pushed the chair back into the corner and gathered up the tray before leaving the room. He told her to rest before exiting the room and closing the door behind him, the lock clicking ominously into place.
Patience slid further down into the bed after he left, finishing her banana and fuming quietly. After tossing the peel in the trash bin, she grabbed the radio off the nightstand. A radio wasn’t just a means of communicating with Jacob. It was a means of communicating, writ large. Had he really been so stupid as to leave her a radio? Or did he simply trust her not to use it? She doubted that immensely. Maybe it was a test of some sort. Perhaps he had his men monitoring all the frequencies, waiting to see if she reached out to the resistance behind his back.
If that was the case, she was certainly willing to risk it, to take whatever punishment he would deem fitting for that. The chance alone was worth it.
She grabbed at the radio and attempted to switch the frequency. Unfortunately, the dial didn’t turn. Of course. Patience firmly grasped the dial and pulled, breaking the cap off the radio and exposing the mechanism beneath. Though she never actually seen one before, she was fairly certain it wasn’t supposed to look like this. It had clearly been tampered with, soldered into the base to keep it on this one frequency. Jacob’s frequency. She flipped the off switch and set it back on the table.
So much for that.
Patience set the ice pack on the table and slowly, carefully, rose to her feet. Despite Jacob telling her not to yesterday, she was going to take a shower. She felt disgusting and there was certainly nothing better to do. Just because there was no tub, didn’t mean she had to stand. Nothing was stopping her from sitting on the shower floor. Maybe the hot water would even help soothe some of her pain.
Once in the bathroom, she shed her clothes and bandages and placed a towel on the floor just outside the shower where she could reach it once she was finished. She took the only bottle in the shower off the ledge and moved it to the floor where she could reach it while sitting. It was a bottle off off-brand men’s three-in-one, one of those soaps that claimed to be body wash, shampoo, and conditioner while not actually doing a sufficient job being any.
Kidnapping, brainwashing, and murder aside, Patience felt quite comfortable saying she could never marry a man who voluntarily used three-in-one.
She turned on the water, triple checking she was happy with the temperature before she sat on the floor, out of reach of the dial. She sat on the cool shower floor, hissing in pain as the hot spray hit her tattoo and her cuts and wounds. The first thing she intended to do when this shit show was over and done with was get that fucking tattoo either removed or covered up.
She rubbed the scented wash into her body and hair as her muscles relaxed. Though, she couldn’t be sure if that was the hot water or the painkiller finally kicking in. It didn’t really matter though. She just leaned against the shower wall and relaxed…
“Rook…!”
Patience opened her eyes to someone calling her name and shaking her shoulder, jostling her sore body as they did so.
“Hey… stop that…”
“Rook, come on, wake up, what are you doing?”
Looking down, she found a towel covering her nudity. The water had been turned off, but her fingers were pruned. Strong painkillers, then.
“Rook.”
She looked up, startled to see Staci crouching beside her, worry in his hazel eyes.
And Patience was suddenly alert, sitting upright abruptly, despite the twinge of pain it caused.
“Staci? Oh my god, Staci!”
She threw her arms around the man she hadn’t seen in weeks.
“Rook…” He gently extracted himself from her arms. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be in bed.”
“Who gives a shit? Staci, how are you? Are you ok?”
He didn’t answer, simply hoisting her up as she held the towel to herself.
“Can you get dressed on your own?”
His voice was softer than she was used to. His shoulders were slightly hunched. Small differences. Barely noticeable. Oh, but they spoke volumes…
“Staci…” He didn’t react to his name, and so she just nodded. “Yes. Yes, I can get dressed.”
He nodded worriedly, stepping back. He turned his back on her, giving her privacy while not leaving her unattended. She didn’t dare ask him to leave. Seeing her cocky friend so uncharacteristically meek… It unsettled her.
When she was dressed, she cleared her throat, letting him know she was done. He gingerly escorted her back to bed and tucked her into bed as though she were a child. He sighed, as if in worried exasperation.
“Rook, you have to take it easy. He’s going to be pissed when he finds out you were pushing yourself like this.”
Patience scoffed. “Jacob? He doesn’t give a shit about me and the feeling is mutual. And if he’s really that pissed I took a shower, he can get over it or shove it up his ass.”
“Patience,” he sighed.
That froze her. Staci had never called her by her name. Not that she could remember at least. From her day on the job, he’d playfully hazed her as ‘Rookie.’ He’d been the first to shorten it to ‘Rook,’ giving her the name she’d been known by most of her friends and allies in the county. Hearing him use her name like that felt wrong in a way.
“Patience, he’s not going to just get over it. He’s going to get mad at you. And he’s really going to get mad at the people he assigned to take care of you.”
Him, he meant. She had done something that would upset Jacob, but Jacob would take it out on Staci.
Fuck.
“…I’ll fix it. I’ll apologize and let him know it was all me.”
Staci sighed in exasperation as he offered her the lunch tray.
“Don’t. That’ll just make it worse. Just don’t do it again.”
“…Ok. Sorry…”
Patience allowed the awkward silence to remain as she ate her food, with Staci simply supervising, watching her eat, but seemingly not really seeing.
Eventually, she broke that silence, warily speaking. “Staci… it’s me. You can talk to me. It’s not like I want to be here. I’m not on his side, you know that, right?”
He scoffed, like she was the one being foolish. “See, that right there is your problem, Rook. You’re way overestimating your hand. Whatever you think you know about Jacob, whatever you think goes on here- it’s worse. You need to start playing nice with him.”
“We need to get the fuck out of here, is what we need to do. I’m not going to just stay here and play happy housewife to Jacob fucking Seed, are you nuts?”
He shot her a look. It was odd, him looking at her like that, like he was world-weary and wise while she was foolish and naïve. She really didn’t feel a man who just months ago had been pulling over attractive women just to shoot his shot ought to be looking at like her like that.
“Playing happy housewife to him is a hell of a lot safer than being his enemy.”
Staci took the handheld radio off the nightstand and turned it back on. She wouldn’t be turning it off again, not now that she knew he would be held responsible if she did. He took the empty food tray and left, shooting her one last pitying look.
And pity from this version of Staci was definitely not welcome.
She was only afforded a few minutes of peace before Jacob’s voice crackled over the radio.
“What do you want for dinner? Bison or elk?”
Her answering tone was biting, freshly livid with him after seeing how Staci had changed. “I thought I didn’t get to choose? The cafeteria decides what we get and all that?”
“Well, tonight you do. Bison or elk?”
She frowned at his no-nonsense tone. “Whatever. Elk, I guess.”
“Elk it is. I’ll see you in a few hours. Radio if you need me.”
“Don’t fucking count on it.”