Chapter 30

30

"I love you, Soph."

I love you, too.

I wanted to open my eyes but they were too heavy.

"I love you, baby."

My eyes fluttered open and wooziness hit my stomach.

My hand lifted, warm lips pressed onto my palm, and the sweetest words I'd ever heard floated through the air.

"There's my Sophie."

I didn't know where "there" was, but wherever it was I never wanted to leave. I wanted to stay right there where it was warm and soft next to Valentine.

"I love you." My throat felt scratchy and raw but still I needed to tell him. "I want to stay where you are."

"Always, Sophie. Always."

Okay, good.

Always.

My eyes floated closed and the darkness pulled me under before I realized I hadn't seen him.

Bright light assailed my vision and pain blistered through me.

"Oh my God." I swallowed past the pain. "Hurts."

"Shh, baby, I'll get the nurse."

My eyes slid to the side and landed on a black t-shirt. It felt like it took a year for my gaze to travel to his face and when it did, my pain intensified.

The steel of his eyes a desolate, dull blue.

"What happened?"

With his jaw clenched, he leaned forward. The mattress under my shoulders depressed. Then all I could see was Valentine.

Bits and pieces flooded in. Khloe. The wheelchair.

Move .

I surged up needing to move, but I didn't get anywhere before a strong, warm hand gently stayed my effort.

"Relax, Soph. The nurse will be right in to give you something for the pain."

"Khloe," I whispered.

Valentine's stubbled jaw flexed.

"You're safe, baby."

I was safe.

"Can I move?"

"No, baby, you have to stay in bed."

"My legs? Can I move them?"

A sinister look passed over his features, so dark and dangerous it penetrated through the pain. Without warning he stood and yanked the blanket from the foot of the bed.

Cool air hit my feet.

"Your legs are fine, Soph."

He didn't understand.

"I couldn't move them."

More menacing vibes rolled off him.

"Lift your leg, baby," he demanded, staring at my feet.

I hesitated, too afraid of what would happen if my brain told the extremity to move and nothing happened. I opted to roll my ankle.

"Did my foot move?"

"Yes."

If there's a stronger word for relief, that's what I felt.

"Good afternoon," a sweet voice singsonged.

My gaze swung to the door. Pain ricocheted in my head, forcing me to close my eyes against the nausea that crept up.

How was it possible to hurt so badly?

"She woke up in pain," Valentine informed the woman .

"We'll fix that right up for you, young lady."

"Thanks," I croaked.

I heard a chair scrape against the floor. My biceps got squeezed by the cuff around my arm. Valentine's big hand engulfed mine.

I was safe.

The rest didn't matter.

Slowly, the pain started to recede. Then I felt nothing.

Soft voices woke me.

Valentine. Hayden. My mother.

My mother.

I kept my eyes closed to assess my pain. A dull, achy throb all over. From head to toe I hurt but it was bearable. Still, I wasn't ready to face the room.

"I'm not suggesting we lie, Valentine, but don't you think she's been through enough?" my mother asked.

Lie?

"Yes, Lorelai, she's been through enough," Valentine gently returned. Gently, not just quietly. What in the world? "But I'm still not withholding the truth."

There was silence, or at least the voices stopped. I could still hear the low hum of machines.

Then a sniff broke the quiet and my mother's broken voice replied, "You know her better than I do. Whatever you feel is the right thing to do, we'll do. "

What in the actual hippopotamus hell was going on? My mother was backing down. Conceding to someone else's point of view.

I must be dead or dreaming or in a drug-induced alternate universe .

"If you think you have a better way to explain this all to her I'll listen," Valentine said.

"No. You're right."

That did it. I was dead and having an out-of-body experience. I had to be.

I slowly cracked my eyes open. Through the tiny sliver between my eyelids I saw Hayden sitting next to my bed. A deep frown instead of his normally cheery, carefree smile. His gaze was on me. He knew I was awake but he didn't move. I opened my eyes wider and took more of him in. The only way to describe the way he was staring at me was miserable.

No, worse—guilt-ridden.

I hated that.

"It wasn't your fault," I whispered.

He shook his head.

"It wasn't, Winslow," I tried again. "I can't lose you to her."

"You're never going to lose me, Huxley."

Before I knew it, my mother was standing next to my bed opposite Hayden. Her hand grabbed mine before she gentled her grip and slid our palms together, barely wrapping her hand around mine.

"Are you in pain? Do you need the nurse? What do you need? Ice chips? Blankets?" My mother's rapid-fire questions made my head spin.

I shifted my head on the pillow and there she was. Not her normal, put-together self, she looked like she hadn't slept in days. And Valentine… my big, strong Hot Cop stood behind her like a bodyguard. Mine, not hers. I knew if she said one thing to upset me he'd carry her out of the room kicking and screaming.

My protector.

"I'm fine, Mother."

She frowned but quickly softened her face and nodded.

"What don't you want to lie to me about?"

My mother's face paled, Hayden picked up my other hand, and my gaze shot to Valentine.

I'm not walking out of here, is that it? I shifted my legs under the blankets. They moved. I twisted my arms the best I could with my hands being held but they moved. My body was no longer numb. I could speak again.

But something was wrong. Something bad.

"Someone please tell me, am I dying?"

"No!" My mother's firm answer made me relax. "The doctor says you'll make a full recovery."

That was good news.

But there was still something wrong.

"We need to talk to you about Khloe," Valentine explained.

Right .

The crazy bitch who stabbed me .

My eyes immediately went to my stomach. How had I forgotten?

"She stabbed me."

"Six times."

Six?

Six times?

"Six?" I screeched, and instantly regretted it when my throat burned.

"Two deep. Four superficial. Thankfully, her angle of attack meant she didn't do internal damage."

Well, thank God for that. But the crazy bitch stabbed me six times. Also thank God, I only remembered the first one.

"Where is she? Did you find her?"

Valentine waited until I dragged my gaze back to him before he laid it out. "She was killed during the rescue."

The rescue.

Khloe was dead.

I turned to look at Hayden. My head swam with the quick movement, but when I regained focus, Hayden was already shaking his head.

"Hux, I love and adore you, but if you ask me how I'm doing, I'm gonna be pissed."

"She was…you were…" I didn't want to say he was screwing her in front of my mother so I settled on, "Seeing her."

"Then she drugged you, kidnapped you, and stabbed you," he said, like that said it all.

And in a way I guess it did .

"Sweetheart."

That was not Valentine calling me an endearment. It was my mother .

Sweetheart?

I might not be dying but there was definitely something going on.

"Someone please tell me what's going on," I demanded.

I was still staring at Hayden when my mother asked, "Should we call the doctor first?"

The doctor?

"She doesn't need her doctor, Lorelai," Hayden spoke up. "Valentine?"

"Alright, Sophie, look at me, baby. Lorelai, go sit by Hayden, yeah?"

My attention went to Valentine—slowly this time to avoid the dizziness—but it was diverted when my mother squeezed my hand.

"Everything's going to be okay, Sophie Lynn, I promise."

With that she let go of my hand and did what Valentine had directed her do. Who was this woman and what happened to No-One-Tells-Me-What-To-Do-Lorelai? Valentine took my mother's vacated place and moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Did Khloe say anything to you before she took you?" he asked.

I cast my mind back to letting Khloe in. Her appearance now made sense. She had her drugging and kidnapping outfit on, complete with sneakers instead of heels.

"Um, she said something about doing it the easy way. She made a comment about me not being at the apartment very often. I don't know, I don't remember much."

Valentine slowly nodded but the small gesture contradicted his stiff posture.

"And when she had you, did she say anything?"

She said a lot of stuff. None of it made sense and I couldn't piece it together with big chunks missing. I had no recollection of leaving my apartment other than being wheeled to the front door. I didn't know how I got to wherever she'd taken me to. I remembered her screaming at me. I remembered being terrified I couldn't move. I remembered the pain of being stabbed.

I love you, Soph.

I remembered hearing Valentine. But that memory was nothing more than a whisper, like it wasn't real, something my mind had conjured up.

"She said I didn't look anything like her. She yelled about being a family. She just yelled and ranted about stuff I didn't understand. Something about her dad being wrong. I was more concerned I couldn't move than what she was saying. I remember begging my legs to work and them not working."

I paused to swallow down the tightness in my throat. "It was getting hard to breathe. I was scared I was going to die and Hayden would blame himself." I heard a grunt that didn't come from Valentine. "And I was afraid I wasn't going to live to call my mother back and work things out."

My mother's sob tore through the hospital room and I wondered why I couldn't stop my thoughts from spilling out.

Regret—that's why. I'd been drugged, kidnapped, and stabbed. I was terrorized with fear, made immobile, and during that time when I thought I was going to die I had regrets.

I held Valentine's gaze and told him the truth. "I was so scared I was going to die without telling you I loved you. That's what I thought about when she stabbed me. How much I regretted not telling you."

I watched his eyes slowly close. When they opened, his hand moved to my face, palm to my cheek. His touch was feather-soft—achingly gentle but excruciatingly sad.

I both hated and loved it.

"I love you, Soph."

I knew he did.

He'd already told me as the darkness took me. The last thing I'd heard was his voice.