Chapter 25

Everything hurts. I mean literally everything .

I wiggle my toes, trying to find a sense of where I am. Am I in Cillian's arms on the little cot in his cell? I no longer feel the cool air of the room around me, but there is still a bone-deep chill that is present.

When soft sheets touch my skin, I crack one eye open. Fluorescent lights blind me before I can blink enough to clear away the haze. White walls, white sheets, a monitor with a very faint but distinctive beep.

The pain is all consuming as I tilt my head, hoping to find Cillian or Boris here with me. But…there's no one, and I can't hear anything aside from that faint beep.

This isn't right. If someone saved us, they would be here. Is this another trick? Did my father kill them once he realized I never would? Am I locked in here?

Glancing to the closed door along the wall without windows, my chest starts to heave in panic and ragged breaths.

They're dead. I held on for as long as I could and they still died.

I try to keep the sob in, but my ribs burn from the constriction. The pain somehow feels even deeper, digging into me as if it were trying to become a permanent fixture. And I don't know if my heart will survive it.

No, don't do this, Nessa. You have to get out of here. You can't let him take you without a fight. If they're gone, it won't be in vain.

Gathering all of the strength I can muster, I reach out and turn off the monitor, knowing that if I remove anything before clearing the screen, it will only set off alarms. Tearing open the gown, I find the stickers on my chest and remove them one by one. The adhesive stings, but the thought that I have lost the two men I love hurts worse.

I'm more careful with the IV, not wanting blood to spurt out everywhere. Peeling the tape from around my arm, I slowly remove the tip while adding pressure at the puncture site. Then, I tear off part of the gown and wrap it to keep from making a mess. The fluid in the IV drips on the ground, but I don't plan on staying long enough for that to matter.

Standing on shaking legs, I maneuver myself to the door. Much to my relief, I don't notice any cameras in the room with me and still no sounds can be heard from the halls.

As carefully as I can, I twist the handle, shocked to find it isn't locked. Bet these feckers didn't think I would just get back up from those injuries. They're too dumb to know redheads need more medication to keep them down than others .

Honestly though, I probably shouldn't be standing. I've to be moving on adrenaline alone at this point.

Cracking open the door ever so slightly, I pale as a person in green scrubs turns and looks directly at me.

"You shouldn't be awake." Her eyes are wide, and I feel bad for her because she probably has no idea just how much of a fight I plan to put up right now.

She rushes towards me, but I'm ready. The second she presses on the door, I pull it back and wrap an arm around her neck. She jerks back, her arm pressing into my surly broken ribs, causing me to cry out in pain.

"Help!" she manages to yell. I squeeze tighter, needing her to shut the feck up so I can get out of here.

But even I know that's a joke. I am losing strength fast, and my ribs now ache with new pain as the taste of blood coats my mouth.

Before I can neutralize her, two pairs of hands grab me and haul me up. I fight them, kicking and screaming in equal parts pain and sorrow as they wrestle me to the bed, yelling at me to make this easy on them so I don't get myself hurt.

Jokes on you, assholes, everything already hurts. It can't get worse.

Tears track down my face as everything builds within me. I scream and claw at the man who's trying to get a grip on my bandaged wrist. He grits his teeth as the other tries to inject me with something, but I slap it out of his hand before he gets the chance, leaving the needle to clatter to the floor where the nurse lays gasping for air.

Bitch.

It all happens so fast that I feel like my life flashes before my eyes. If my father finds me, he'll force me to marry that beast of a man. If he gets his hands on me, the torture Green put me through will be like a walk in the park because my father knows the one way to actually break my heart more than it already is.

I get my knees up, likely flashing the whole room while I want to vomit from the pain the effort causes. My foot shoots out and the man falls to the side, grabbing for his head and I smirk, going for the next one.

"You fucking bitch!" the first guy yells. That was a mistake. The eyes of the man still standing widen before looking down at his friend right as my hand goes for his throat.

I hit him hard and he goes down, struggling to breathe as I attempt to flee again. But this time, the first man grabs my ankle and I hit the floor with a cry of pain unlike any I have ever felt before. My broken ribs rattle as all of the wounds on my body feel as if they are splitting open. My neck aches in a way that makes me so dizzy I can't figure out which way is up and which is down.

Someone grabs me and I can't do anything but cry. Emotions choke me from the inside out before a familiar face finally comes into view, rushing into the room like his pants are on fire.

Doc .

I know the doctor well from my last injury. He saved me once before when the building collapsed on me, and I was impaled on a piece of metal rebar.

"Nessa, it's okay. Just take a breath." His furious gaze turns to the men who are now trying to basically hogtie me on the bed to keep me still. "Get your hands off her unless you want a bullet in your brain," he orders.

They both freeze, raising their hands instantly. I stare at him in horror and confusion . Could he be working for my father?

"You're safe, Nessa. I'm here now."

My jaw drops open even as tears track down my cheeks as he picks up the syringe from the floor. I no longer know if they're from pain or fear. Doc looks at me like he wants to apologize, and that can only mean two things.

"No!" I scream. I will not accept condolences if they are really gone. "No, no, no!" Throwing my hands over my ears, I try desperately to shut out this reality. I was raised to be strong, but this is too much. Like a dam breaking in my chest, I have no idea how to control the wave of emotions as I slowly begin to fall apart. I actually think I'm dying from the agony.

That is, until a booming voice begins yelling outside the door before it slams open, making me flinch. Dark eyes and tattoos appear in my line of vision, his tall frame taking up every inch of the doorway as he prowls towards me.

Cillian .

All of those emotions come flooding back, rearing their ugly heads as I begin to shake with sobs, relief flowing through every part of my being. I reach for him, and he scoops me into his arms gently, holding me so close I can smell his perfect scent of amber and wild grass as it surrounds me.

"Where is he?" It's all I can ask as I cling to his shirt for dear life. I need to know they are both okay. I need to see them both, feel them under my hands to know they are real and alive.

"I am right here, Lisichka ." Boris rounds the bed and Cillian hands me to him as if I were nothing more than a child. I don't care though. I have them both here.

Their combined scents envelop me as Boris holds me between the two of them on the bed, soothing the ache in my chest as I cry and let it all out. No one says anything, but Cillian rubs my leg where there are no visible injuries and Boris rocks me slowly, his fingers running through my hair.

"We leave to shower and grab a coffee and you take down a nurse and break free of all the fancy equipment Doc hooked you up to?" Cillian's voice is amused but also concerned.

I reach for his arm, pulling him close until I am sandwiched between them. The pressure of their bodies against mine causes the wounds on my body to burn in protest, but I pull them closer still.

Part of me doesn't believe this moment is real, that the three of us are here and we are okay. But the other part can't help but bask in the sense of rightness that floods me.

Peaceful silence follows until my breaths are less labored and my sobbing has quieted. Boris sits up slightly, but I grab his shirt.

"I am not going anywhere, Little Fox. I just want to ask the doctor a question."

I nod, feeling silly for needing him. Trauma aside, I am not normally a clingy person. Cuddly, yes. But needy, no. I really need to get a handle on my emotions right now, I'm a mess.

"Did they hurt her?"

Immediately, I know he's talking about the men who tried to restrain me. They may have been doing it to help me, but they were rough and really feckin' rude. But I don't want Boris to leave me to deal with them. I need him here even if it feels weak to admit it.

"Don't leave," I beg, my eyes still closed to focus on my breathing, and to stay away from the sensitive lights around me. I think I hit my head a little harder than I thought.

Boris pulls me close as Doc responds.

"They could have caused some damage, but I will handle it."

I crack my eyes open to see Boris nod. He lies back on the bed, his warmth bringing me more comfort than I ever thought possible.

"She will need a new IV, and I want the monitors on her in case anything goes wrong or the medications aren't working."

I stiffen but understand. Now that I know we are all okay, I'm much more likely to cooperate without trying to kill anyone. I hope.

I attempt to sit up to agree when my ribs spasm in protest, aching more with each breath as I begin to hyperventilate from the pain.

"She needs something now, Doc."

Cillian's clipped tone leaves no room for argument but I panic anyway. I can't wake up without them again.

"Don't leave me," I say as Doc approaches with a syringe.

I trust him, but I don't want to be left alone while I'm vulnerable. Anyone could come in here and take me, including my father. I have no fight left in me to give at this point. If he came in here, it would be over.

"Sweetheart, we are not going anywhere." Cillian tucks some of my wild hair behind my ear.

"I will not leave your side ever again, my little fox. We will be here, together ." He threads his fingers with mine, and even though I can still feel the prickle of pain from where needles were jammed under my nails, I squeeze him tight.

"To-together," I stutter.

"That's our good girl," Cillian praises.

"Just let Doc help you." Boris pleads with me. "We are not going anywhere."

My lip wobbles as Doc looks at me.

"I need your consent now that you are awake. This will help with the pain, and you'll be able to get some rest. When you're comfortable, I'll start a new IV to help with the infection and dehydration."

"Okay. J-just don't let them leave."

A soft smile touches his lips that has my body easing. I can trust him, I do trust him.

"They will stay right here, you have my word. I will have those we trust bring you all anything you might need."

" Lisichka , I will not leave you again. No matter what." I can hear the promise in his voice, feel the vow from the way his body presses into me.

I close my eyes and nod my head in agreement before a prick of pain greets my arm. It takes a minute, but soon everything starts to feel heavy. The last thing I hear is Cillian reprimanding Boris as if he were the child in the room.

"The fact that you have to say ‘again' is a problem we need to discuss, Old Man."