8. Levy

Chapter eight

Levy

I learned a long time ago that there was no god, but this reality was drilled into me all over again as we sat helplessly around Sparrow’s tiny living room, listening to the sounds of Grace crying and retching.

“She’s coming down off a truck-load of meds,” Sparrow explained, “Ideally, we’d taper her off slowly, but that’s not an option now. Wren’s got a mild sedative that can take the edge off for her.”

It didn’t help us feel any better. Anders was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, his hand wrapped tightly around a mug of coffee. Wren had stitched him back up while Grace had been resting, admonishing him and muttering things like ‘permanent nerve damage’, but he hadn’t seemed to care. Jesse and Erik were on the couch, Erik’s leg bouncing up and down restlessly as he clearly fought the urge to get up and move. Sparrow wouldn’t let us go into Grace’s room because Grace was still very groggy and might get scared if a group of men stormed into her space.

My fists tightened. She didn’t deserve any of this. We should’ve taken better care of her; she never should have gotten separated from us at that warehouse. Fuck, she never should have been there in the first place .

A knock at the door had all of us leaping to our feet. Erik even drew his gun, signing for Jesse to stay beside him.

“No more caffeine for any of you,” Sparrow muttered, shaking her head as she opened the door. An older woman with long graying hair tied up in a sleek ponytail walked inside, a large medical bag over her shoulder. She looked over at us with narrowed eyes, and I felt like I was under a spotlight when her gaze fell over me.

“Ignore them, the patient is back this way,” Sparrow told her, leading her to the bedroom. Erik started forward, stowing his gun back in the holster.

“Wait, I’m not comfortable with Grace being alone with another stranger right now,” he announced, and Sparrow rolled her eyes, flipping her long hair over her shoulder.

“One of you can come, but you’re out the second she’s in any distress,” the older woman snapped.

“I’ll go,” I offered quickly, looking at Erik. He considered it for a long moment, before nodding, the muscle in his jaw working.

I followed after the two women before he could change his mind, slipping in behind them and trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, which was difficult at my size.

“How is she doing?” the older woman asked, directing the question to Wren, who was wiping a cloth over Grace’s forehead.

“Detoxing from the ridiculous cocktail of drugs they had her on,” Wren muttered. “She’s in and out, barely talking, confused as hell.”

The woman set her bag down on the floor and took out a few sinister-looking implements that had me tensing up. As if she heard my muscles clenching, she turned to look at me, and I dropped my gaze to the floor, struggling to stay visible.

“Big Fella, are you a friend of hers?” she asked, and I nodded quickly, shifting on my feet. “Good. I’ll need you to hold her still. This is going to feel unpleasant for her, and I can’t have her struggling and hurting herself worse.” I raised my eyebrows, and she stepped aside, gesturing toward the bed.

“Wren, she asked for the implant?” The woman confirmed, and Wren nodded, moving off the bed so I could take her place, my knees by Grace’s head. She was twisting and mumbling, her hands fisting the sheets.

“I got a few moments of lucidity out of her, and she consented,” Wren agreed, and the doctor nodded stiffly and pulled on a set of gloves.

“Well, it’s not the ideal situation but it will have to do for today,” she muttered. “Alright, Big Fella, hold her arm still and put a hand on her shoulder right there, so she can’t jerk away.” I did as she ordered, feeling Grace tense as my hands dropped to her body.

The doctor picked up the wicked-looking implement off the table, doing something to it before lining it up with Grace’s arm. “Brace her,” was all the warning I got before something nasty-looking stabbed into Grace’s arm. The whimper that escaped Grace tore my heart in two, and my grip loosened just enough. She thrashed suddenly and screamed blood-murder as she swiped at me, catching me in the face with her fist. I reeled back in shock, then wrapped my arms around her so she wouldn’t hurt the doctor, who had grabbed something else out of her bag and was waiting patiently for the fighting to settle .

“She needs to take this,” the doctor told me, holding up a small white pill. “It’s Plan B,” she explained, and my stomach twisted. She pressed the pill between Grace’s lips, and I held her tightly to my chest, trying to keep her from hurting herself.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” I whispered and plugged her nose with my hand, forcing her body to swallow the pill. Her body convulsed against me, slowly losing muster as her strength ebbed out. I helped her lay down on the bed as she fell back into a fitful doze, tears stinging my eyes.

I left the room without another word, closing the door behind me and walking back into the living room.

“What happened?!” Anders snapped, jumping up as soon as he saw me. “Why was she screaming?”

“Something… an implant,” I mumbled, rubbing a hand over my hair and fading out of view, unable to hold onto it any longer. I felt disgusting, I never wanted to aid in her pain like that ever again.

“An implant for what?” Anders snapped again, colliding with me as I took a step forward.

“Just… I don’t know, something in her arm,” I snapped back. What the fuck does it matter anyway? “And the pill, in case she… in case they…” I stumbled on the words, my throat closing up as they all stared at me, demanding answers I had no business to give.

“Oh,” was all Anders said, his face dropping as he realized what I was trying to explain.

“Douglas is a dead man,” Erik snarled, standing up and pacing to the kitchen and then back. “I’m going to rip him limb from limb, and then I’ll make him watch as I torch every square inch of his legacy and burn it to the ground.” The rest of us nodded in unison. Douglas would suffer for what he’d done, he would suffer, and I would take pleasure in every second of it.

We all had a fitful night camped out in the living room. Erik had staunchly refused to leave, even when Sparrow had pointed a gun at his dick and threatened to shoot the audacity right out of him. None of us slept; we just sat, listening to the horrifying sounds that filtered down the hall. Whimpers, crying, and fitful screams kept us on edge, and we’d nearly worn out Sparrow’s coffeemaker by the next day.

I must have gone to the bathroom a hundred times just for the chance to walk past Grace’s door and check on her as best I could through the solid wooden slab. It was on my hundredth and first walk past that I heard a thump on the other side of the door. Sparrow would kill me dead for this, but I was worried that Grace had fallen out of bed or something. Turning the handle slowly, I peered inside and caught a dart of movement as Grace tumbled into the bathroom. I yelled in surprise and ran for her, only to have a door slammed in my face, the click of a lock twisting a knife in my gut.

“Unlock the door, Grace,” I called out, knocking desperately. I tried jerking on the handle, seeing if I could break it, but it was damn sturdy and wouldn’t budge. Was she okay? What if she passed out and hit her head or something?! I started pounding frantically, until Wren shoved in front of me, pushing me away from the door.

“What the hell are you doing?!” she hissed, and I flinched back, pointing to where Grace had barricaded herself in their bathroom .

“I heard a noise and saw her fall into the bathroom! She locked herself in, I can’t get inside,” I explained, and Wren quickly turned to test the lock herself.

“Get out and go find Roe,” she ordered, and I balked, staring at the door behind her.

“Let me stay, I can hel-” Wren waved a hand to cut me off, her finger stabbing me in the chest.

“Get OUT Leviathan, all of you! Go home, and shower, and just… GET OUT!” I’d never heard Wren raise her voice before, and it was terrifying. I stumbled out of the room, and Sparrow nearly barrelled over me, her eyes flashing with rage as I backtracked out into the living room.

“We have to leave,” I told the guys, their dejection mirroring my own. My heart couldn’t take much more of this.