A Small Price To Pay

Jarrod woke with agony ripping through his belly and he curled up tightly. He hoped he wasn’t about to throw up as he shook with unexpected chills, but the nausea abated slightly and he took a shaky breath. His whole body ached and as he tried to sit, he realized that his right hand was firmly splinted to a board. Then he moved his leg the wrong way and the pain shooting through his groin was enough to almost send him back into unconsciousness.

“Take it easy, young man.”

Jarrod tried to focus and the image of the doctor he’d seen briefly became clear. Everything slowly came back to him, his abduction, Jordan’s abuse and how he finally killed him as the doctor tucked a pillow behind his back and helped him sit up.

Then Jarrod was overcome with trembling and sweating and the doctor barely got a basin in position before he lost what little was in his stomach. A hand gently gripped his shoulder as he heaved and when he was done, the doctor held a glass of water so he could drink.

“Your hand is broken and some of your cuts are infected. And,” the doctor sighed and dragged a hand over his face, “your genitals were severely damaged. I’m sorry, I had to remove one of your testicles but I’m optimistic that you’ll still be able to father children.”

That revelation was almost more painful than the actual injury. He closed his eyes and tried to tell himself it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. He was alive and Jordan was dead. In that light, a testicle probably wasn’t a big price to pay. He still had half his manhood, but it was a severe blow nonetheless, even though he knew more than one woman who would argue with him if he suggested that a pair of balls was necessary to be successful in life.

“Normally I’d call the law in when someone so obviously beaten stumbles through my door, but due to the nature of your injuries… Did you kill him?”

Jarrod didn’t want to cause the doctor any trouble. He also didn’t want anyone else to know what Jordan had done to him and what he’d done in return, but he finished with hiding the truth. “Yes.”

“I suspect it was in self-defence.”

Jarrod nodded and the doctor rested his hand again on Jarrod’s shoulder.

“Can you tell me your name, son?”

“Jarrod Barkley. My… family’s from Stockton.”

“I can send them a message if you’d like.”

Jarrod nodded again, grateful that the doctor made no more mention of contacting the authorities. If he felt he had to, Jarrod wouldn’t hold it against him, but he appreciated the doctor’s compassion.

“I’ll leave a basin here if you feel sick again,” the doctor told him, “and I’d like to give you some morphine. The pain relief will help you recover faster.”

Jarrod almost shook his head. He reckoned part of how he felt was due to the opium Jordan gave him and the sooner he got it out of his system, the better off he’d be. But he hurt like hell and the relief that the drug would bring was just too tempting so he nodded instead. He held still for the injection, the pain receded and he eventually managed to fall asleep.

He woke a few times, nauseous and in pain. The doctor gave him water, bathed him with cool cloths and gave him a few more doses of morphine. He found out he was in one of the poorer districts in San Francisco, not far from Chinatown, and that his brother Nick had sent a message saying he would be there on the next train.

The doctor finally felt Jarrod could keep down some broth and was helping his patient eat when a loud voice was heard from outside.

“Doc? Doc? Is anyone here?”

“Don’t people realize there might be patients resting?” the doctor grumbled as he set down the bowl and Jarrod smiled for the first time since his abduction.

“It’s just my brother. That’s his quiet voice.”

The doctor snorted, but went out and returned with Nick in tow. Nick set down his hat. “Hey, Pappy, how’re you doing?”

“Could be better.”

“I’ll leave the two of you alone,” the doctor told them. “If you wouldn’t mind helping your brother with that soup, Mr. Barkley?”

“Sure thing.” Nick sat in the chair beside the bed as the doctor left. “Jordan?” he asked as he held a spoonful of broth for Jarrod to take.

“Yeah.”

Nick nodded grimly and fed Jarrod some more soup. “Do I need to go after him?”

Jarrod shook his head slowly. “Nope.” Nick didn’t ask for details as he helped Jarrod finish the broth.

Nick set down the empty bowl. “We searched everywhere when you went missing,” he told Jarrod. “I also checked on Jordan’s whereabouts, just in case. Right before the doc contacted us, I got a message that he was seen in the city about four days ago, but no one’s heard from him since.”

Four days. Jarrod had no idea how long he’d been Jordan’s captive or how long he’d been under the doctor’s care. “How long has it been?”

“Almost a week.” Nick eyed him closely. “Doc says you’ll be okay. What do you say?”

Jarrod sighed and closed his eyes. Nick knew and accepted most of the sordid details about his relationship with Jordan and that support meant the world to him, but there was no way he was going to tell his brother how he’d been maimed. “I don’t even know what okay is anymore, Nick.” His eyes opened when Nick’s strong hand held the back of his neck in a comforting grip.

“I’ll get you home, Jarrod, and you just let us take care of you, all right? All anyone needs to know is you were attacked and robbed on the street and it took a few days before you could let anyone know who you were.”

Jarrod’s eyes welled up. “Thanks, Nick,” he whispered.

“And if Jordan’s body turns up, he was shot by an unknown gunman,” Nick added grimly.

“He wasn’t shot.” Jarrod had to pause as he tried to come to terms with how his attacker died. “I beat him to death, Nick. I smashed his face to a bloody pulp. I doubt anyone will be able to identify him.”

“Huh.” Nick was silent for a moment and then grabbed his brother’s arm supportively. “Well, you just hang tight. I’m gonna go see when the doc thinks I can take you home. I’ll be right back.”

Jarrod sank back against the pillow. Jordan was dead and he was alive. His family was intact, even more than intact with the addition of Heath, and there was finally a light at the end of the tunnel. Even though Crowne was a tough businessman, Jarrod got the sense he would be more willing to deal than his predecessor and he was confident they could work out something that would satisfy progress and the farmers.

He’d never completely be free of what he’d endured at Jordan’s hands. The scars in his mind were at least as deep as the ones on his body and he was under no illusion that they’d ever fade away. And he knew the image of Jordan’s ruined face after he’d beat him to death would always be there when he closed his eyes, forever reminding him of the monster that lurked deep inside.

But all that really mattered was that he still had his life and his family and if he told himself that enough times, one day he might actually believe it.