The Son of Red Fang by Diana Sockriter novel Chapter 62

The Son of Red Fang.

Chapter 62

He lifts his hand slowly. As if he’s expecting me to smack it away as he reaches for the cup. When I make no further moes he slowly tilts the cup back taking his first sip of food since the previous night. He startles hard back into me but relaxes almost as quickly before taking another small sip. I can’t help but smile as his willingness to accept, even this tiny amount of food, increases with every sip. It actually hurts me when he whines as I slow him down during one of his longer drinks.

“Relax Cole. You’ve done nothing wrong. You just need to break long enough in between drinks to breathe. I’m not going to take it away. I promise this isn‘ a tease. Your oxygen is still low and your lungs are still quite restricted.”

He’s breathing hard, exaggerating his wheezing, as my firm yet gentle pressure keeps him from resuming his drinking. Angela comes back over to as, handing another cup to Jamie.

“This stuff actually smells pretty good.”

I see Angela smile as we all hear his stomach grumble.

“Unfortunately, I wouldn’t recommend you eating it as it’s rich with added vitamins, minerals, protein and fats. It’s a special blend we use when wolves can’t handle regular food. That’s also why we keep the servings small but since he’s showing us he’s hungry and willing to eat, I brought just a little bit more over for you.”

She smiles as she reaches out to him, touching the side of his face.

“I need to check your eyes really quickly while you catch your

breath.”

I feel him nod against my shoulder. I’m surprised at how relaxed he’s starting to feel in my hold.

“Keep your gaze on me. I have to move slowly to see the change I’m looking for since your eyes are so dark.”

It only takes a moment for her to do her assessment on his eyes and his breathing has calmed enough that I gently encourage him to resume drinking the soup. Jamie stays silent as Cole finishes both cups that were prepared for him.

I can’t help but be reminded of my own son as I listen to the soft, rhythmic wheezing that signals the young man is sleeping. Angela comes over with the two shots and four wipes. I’m relieved that she’s planning on using the lidocaine wipes which will decrease any pain from the needle pricks he feels.

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She helps me get from behind him and lay him gently on his side. He grabs a hold of the warming pillow as soon as it touches his chest and I help him get into the position he desires. It’s in this 45 degree angle towards his stomach that I see his back under the brighter lights of the room. Angela was correct about him having fresh wounds in addition to the scaring.

“Cole, are you still with me?”

I ask as I touch his shoulder. He shifts slightly but not enough to really be awake.

“You have the same marks on your back that you have on your chest. How far down do these go? Angela, have you seen this yet?”

She walks over as I gently untie and fold over one side of the hospital gown he’s in. I take a deep slow breath in as I gaze upon the damage I didn’t see this morning. There’s a thin but long area of skin that’s black and blue in color. Obvious severe bruising along his ribs. The same, inch wide, angry red lines that we found on his chest cross his back from his left to his right.

“Look.”

I just about whisper as I trace two of the lines across his back to where they fade into the blackness of the bruise. I can easily trace at least ten of these marks leading into the same long bruise.

“Angela, look at this stray one. The bruising looks to be a belt buckle.”

I follow the lines across his back to his hip where it ends in a nasty bruise and stab. More cuts catch my eye and I can’t help but gently fold the waistband of his boxers down until I expose about half his rear exposing the same cuts and bruises. I’m so stunned by the discovery that I nearly miss Angela trying to touch his bruised ribs.

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