23. Bianca #2
“I’m good.” The words come out too quickly. “Gonna hang out with Winnie for a bit.”
Mom kisses Winston’s forehead, and they both leave, promising to be back soon.
The moment the door closes, Winston’s entire demeanor changes.
“Sit.” He points to the chair beside his bed. “And tell me why you look like someone ran over your dog.”
“I’m fine.”
“Bullshit. You’ve been crying. And you keep...” He gestures at my neck. “Stop touching your scent glands.”
I hadn’t even realized I was doing it.
“I wasn’t...”
“Yes, you were. Don’t pick at them, Bee. What’s going on?”
I sink into the chair and feel myself crumble.
“Whitney’s coming back tonight.” The words come out as a whisper. “Changed her flight. They have to go back to her.”
Winston’s expression sharpens. “And?”
“And they can’t get out of this, Winston. The bonds... Montgomery told them trying to break them will kill them.”
“And you believe that?”
“I don’t know what to believe.” I press my fingers to my neck again, and Winston’s hand shoots out to stop me.
“Stop that right fucking now. You’ll make yourself bleed.” His voice carries that sharp concern that means he’s switched into doctor mode. “Think about this logically. Would their fathers really agree to this if it would kill their heirs?”
“I don’t know. They’re allowing awful things to happen to them. Really, really awful. But you’re right, that doesn’t make sense.”
“It could be that Montgomery is a lying sack of shit and this is his way to keep them compliant.” Winston shifts forward. “Fear is a powerful motivator. And if they think resistance equals death...”
“But what if you’re wrong? What if trying to break the bonds really would kill them?”
“What if they spend the rest of their lives as prisoners because they’re too scared to find out?”
“What exactly did they tell you?”
“That they’ve tried to break them before. That the consequences were... horrible. They wouldn’t give me details, but Winston, they looked terrified. Traumatized.” My voice cracks.
“Pain doesn’t necessarily mean death.”
“But what if it does?” I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “They’ve been trying to find a way out for five years, Winston. And they’re no closer to freedom than when this started.”
“Bee, I don’t think they’re afraid of dying.” Winston’s voice is low. “They’re afraid of what happens to you if they’re gone. That fear makes them easy to control.”
His eyes meet mine.
“What can I do? I can’t tell them to risk their lives based on a theory.”
“You could give them more information to work with. Help them make an informed decision instead of one based on fear.”
“Like what?”
Winston is quiet for a moment, studying my face. “Have you told them what we talked about? About the pre-bond and scent match?”
My stomach drops. “No.”
He looks at me pointedly.
“I’m scared.” The admission comes out quiet.
“Of what?”
“Of losing them again. Of encouraging them to fight and then watching them die because I’m fucking wrong.”
“What’s the alternative?”
I look at my brother, really look at him. At the concern in his eyes, the love, the fierce protectiveness that’s always defined our relationship.
I’ve missed him so much.
“What would you do, Win?”
“I’d stop letting fear make my decisions for me, especially without proof.” He squeezes my hand. “But that’s easy for me to say. I’m not the one who has to live with the consequences.”
“I have a lot to think about.”
“And hey, promise me you won’t do anything reckless. If anything happens to you…”
I look at him, this man who’s always been my safe harbor.
“I promise I’ll be as smart as I can about whatever comes next.”
It’s not the promise he wants, but it’s the only one I can give.
“Bianca.” Winston catches my hand as I turn to leave. “Whatever happens… I’m proud of you. You’ve survived things that would have broken most people. Trust yourself.”
I squeeze his hand and leave before the tears in my eyes can fall.
Outside in the hallway, I lean against the wall and try to breathe. My chest feels tight, like I can’t get enough air. Too many decisions. Too many unknowns. Too much at stake.
I need air. Space to think.
The hospital garden is quiet this time of day, just a few scattered visitors on benches among the carefully maintained flower beds. I find a spot in the corner where no one can overhear and call the emergency line at the refuge.
Ezra answers on the second ring.
“Bianca? What’s wrong?”
Just hearing his voice makes my throat tight. “Everything.”
“Hold on.” I hear movement, then Megan’s voice in the background. “She’s here. Bianca’s on the line.”
“Talk to us,” Megan says, her voice warm but concerned. “What’s happening?”
So I tell them. Not everything... not the intimate details. But enough.
The silence on the other end stretches long enough that I wonder if the call dropped.
“Jesus,” Ezra finally breathes. “Bianca, this is...”
“Fucked up beyond belief,” Megan finishes. “Are you safe right now?”
“For now. But I don’t know what happens next.”
“You need to get out of there,” Megan says immediately. “Come home. We’ll figure out the rest later.”
“I can’t leave them.”
“We’re here if you need us,” Ezra adds. “Whatever you need. Extraction, backup, someone to hold your hair while you puke from stress. Just say the word.”
“I love you both so much.” The words come out thick with tears I’m trying not to shed.
“We love you too,” Megan says fiercely. “Which is why we’re worried as hell about you getting caught up in this mess.”
“Just... be careful, okay?” Ezra’s tone turns serious. “These people have resources and power and no conscience. Don’t underestimate what they’re capable of.”
“I won’t.”
“If things go sideways, you run.”
I close my eyes, grateful beyond words for these people who chose to be my family.
“I’ll call you again soon,” I promise.
The line goes dead.
Now what?