Read Online Skin Deep by Marissa Doyle - Free Book Online Page B

from a physical blow to the head to meningitis or encephalitis. Do you want to risk him dying or being permanently disabled?”
    “If you touch my son, you won’t leave this dwelling alive.” Alasdair now stood by his bed, swaying on his injured feet but clenching his hands into fists.
    “Stop it!” She stepped between the two men and pushed Alasdair back down onto his bed. “Sit down before you fall. No one is going to hurt anyone in my house.”
    “I wasn’t going to fall.” He glowered at her.
    “Yes, fine, you weren’t going to fall. Don’t you dare get up again.”
    “Thank you.” Rob’s voice was still quiet and even but edged with anger. “Will you please explain to this—”
    “Rob, wait. Trust me.” She led him a few paces away from Alasdair’s bed, then turned back to Alasdair. “I won’t let anyone hurt Conn. You know I won’t.”
    The fury faded from Alasdair’s expression. “I know you won’t. But you don’t understand. We can’t leave here. We can’t leave you . Not yet.”
    “This is getting ridic—” Rob began.
    She glanced at him and shook her head.“Why can’t you leave?”
    “When I am strong again, we will go.” His voice was not much more than a whisper. “I promise. But not yet.”
    She met his gaze. It was unwavering, and there was something else in it too: despair, heavy enough to crush a grown man under its weight. And if it could crush him, what about a child?
    She looked down at Conn then looked again, startled. Conn’s eyes were open, and he was gazing up at her with wide golden-brown eyes exactly like Alasdair’s. She fought down the impulse to exclaim out loud and channeled it instead into a smile. “Well, hello little sleepyhead,” she said, and sat down next to him. “How are you this morning?”
    “He’s awake?” Rob was there in an instant.
    “Conn,” Alasdair breathed, and rose again.
    Conn didn’t react to either of them. He kept his eyes fastened on her face for a few seconds longer then squirmed up and wrapped his thin arms around her neck, burying his face in her shoulder.
    “Okay, okay.” She lifted him up and settled him back on her lap, just as they’d sat last night. “I’m not going anywhere.”
    “Umm, right,” Rob said. He squatted next to the chair and tried to catch the boy’s eye. “Hello, Conn. How do you feel?”
    “He’s not going to your hospital,” Alasdair said. He staggered the two paces to Conn’s bed, sank down on it, and leaned toward him stiffly. “Conn, ciamar a tha thu?” he murmured.
    The boy didn’t respond aloud but made a small motion with his head and snuggled even closer to her.
    “It’s all right,” she said to him gently. “I’m not going to put you down if you don’t want me to.” What had Alasdair said? What language had it been? If they were from a foreign country it might explain some of Alasdair’s unfamiliarity with everyday things, but not entirely. “How are you, Conn? Can you tell the doctor?”
    He didn’t move.
    “Does he understand what I’m saying?” she asked Alasdair. “Does he speak English?”
    “Enough of it,” he said shortly, as if unwilling to reveal any more. “But he does not speak much in any language.”
    “Look,” Rob said. “If you put him down on the bed, I can make sure he’s—”
    “He’s…he’s in some pain, but not a lot,” Garland found herself saying as she peered down at Conn’s face. He looked back up at her from under his long eyelashes. “The bandages feel funny and the deeper cuts ache, especially the one under his ribs on the right side. Mostly he’s confused and scared. And he’d rather I didn’t put him down just now.”
    There was a silence, broken only when Rob cleared his throat. She looked up. Both men stared at her, Alasdair looking shocked and Rob dubious.
    “Garland, what’s going on?” he said. “How do you know that?”
    “I don’t know. I just do.” She leaned back slightly so that she could see full into