Page 64 of Vicious King

I can’t even finish the sentence because it’s unthinkable.

“Fuck, it’s silenced,” Carson growls. “I’m sorry, baby.”

His hands are on my back, and it makes me feel a little better.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

“Scared the fuck out of me. Are you hurt? Are you okay? Where’s Spider?” I look over his shoulder and see his number two walking behind us. He gives me a reassuring nod.

“We’re fine,” Carson says as I let my legs fall and he sets me on my feet. “But I have to have you looked at. Where’s Charlie?”

“He’s in his room for quiet time. Why do you need to have me looked at? I’m fine.”

We join the doctor and Mildred in the kitchen, and Carson gestures for me to sit on a stool.

“We’ve been interrogating your father,” he says to me as he runs his hand down my arm and links our hands. “And I know how he was able to figure out where you were.”

“How?” I frown at him, then over at Spider. “Did he have me followed? Is he in cahoots with Damien?”

“No.” Carson blows out a breath, his face grim. “He put a fucking tracker in you at some point, Rina.”

I scowl. “No, he didn’t.”

“He did,” Spider confirms.

I sit quietly, thinking back. “Never in my life has my father come near me with a needle. I’m telling you, I would have remembered that.”

“He likely drugged you,” Dr. Asgood says. “And when you were unconscious, he would have injected it.”

I don’t know why, out of all the things that have been done to me in my life, this feels the most violating.

“The battery likely died some time ago,” Carson says, “but it wouldn’t have mattered. He would have known where you were by then. But we can run a machine over your skin to find it.”

I turn to the doctor. “And you’re here to get it out.”

“It would seem so,” she says with a nod before turning to Carson. “Start with her inner biceps and the back of her neck. Those are the most common injection sites for it.”

He nods, and Spider passes him what looks like a phone.

“This is so fucked up,” I whisper, watching my husband.

“This is the easy part,” he assures me. “Come here, Sunshine.”

But I don’t have to move at all. Carson comes in close and runs the little box thing over the inside of both my arms, but the light stays red. I lift my hair so he can run it over my neck.

“Is it there?”

“No,” he says grimly.

“Try her inner thighs and behind the knees,” Dr. Asgood says.

I stand and turn my back to him and feel him run it over my legs, and then he sighs.

“The fucker put it in the back of her motherfucking thigh.”

“He probably thought she’d notice the discomfort or bruise from it less there,” the doctor replies. “I need to get you to the infirmary so I can x-ray you and locate it to remove it.”

“Where’s the infirmary?” I ask.