Chapter 14 #2
"She's harming herself," he explained, his expression grave.
"We need to calm her enough to continue treatment safely.
I recommend a mild sedative, just enough to take the edge off her panic and allow us to help her without causing further trauma.
" The suggestion felt like a knife to my gut.
Sedating her seemed like another violation, another way of taking her control away.
But watching her thrash against the medical equipment, seeing the terror in her eyes as she relived whatever horrors she'd endured, I knew he was right.
She was hurting herself in her panic, and we needed to help her.
"What will you give her?" I asked, my voice rough with emotion.
"I'll start with a low dose of lorazepam," he replied.
"It's an anxiolytic; it should help calm her without knocking her out completely.
If that's not sufficient, we may need to consider something stronger, but we'll take it step by step.
" I swallowed hard, hating myself for what I was about to agree to, but knowing it was necessary.
"Okay," I said finally. "But I stay with her. The whole time." Dr Reynolds nodded.
"Of course." I returned to Cadence's side, leaning close to her ear.
"Princess," I murmured, "they're going to give you something to help you relax a little. It won't hurt you, I promise. It'll just make things a bit easier." I had no idea if she understood me, if my words penetrated the fog of terror that surrounded her, but I had to try.
The nurse administered the sedative slowly through the IV, and we all watched the monitors closely as it began to take effect. Cadence continued to fight it at first, her fingers clutching at my shirt as if it were a lifeline.
"Don't leave," she whispered, her eyes struggling to stay open. "Please don't leave me."
"Never," I vowed, my voice breaking on the word.
"I'm right here, Princess. I'm not going anywhere.
" Gradually, her body began to yield to the medication.
The tremor in her forearms faded, her jaw unclenched, her shoulders relaxed beneath the warming blankets.
Her eyelids fluttered, fighting the pull of the sedative, but eventually they closed, her breathing evening out into a rhythm that, while still shallow, was steadier than before.
"Patient sedated for distress and safety," a nurse announced for the scribe to record.
"Continuous monitoring ongoing." I kept my hand exactly where hers had last gripped it, letting her fingers slack around my knuckles.
With my other hand, I gently brushed a strand of matted hair from her forehead, careful to avoid the laceration at her temple that had been cleaned and dressed while she was distressed.
The warm hiss of the forced-air blower under the blankets, the soft click of a clamp, the sting of antiseptic as another laceration was dressed, these sounds filled the now-quieter room as the immediate crisis passed and the team continued their work with less urgency but no less care.
A woman in plain clothes entered the room, her ID badge identifying her as the hospital's lead nurse for safeguarding. She conferred quietly with Dr Reynolds before approaching me.
"Mr Bale," she said, her voice professional but kind.
"I'm Sarah Jenkins, the safeguarding lead.
I want to assure you that we've notified all the appropriate authorities, the police liaison, and the Sexual Assault Referral Centre.
I am also in liaison with the Trivium. There won't be any interviews or examinations until Miss Turner is stable and conscious enough to consent, but we do have procedures in place to ensure her safety and to preserve any evidence.
" I nodded, unable to formulate a proper response.
The clinical discussion of "evidence" made my stomach turn, the reality of what had been done to Cadence hitting me anew with each professional interaction.
"There will be a police officer posted outside," she continued. "Standard procedure in cases like this." Cases like this. As if there were other cases like this. As if anyone could have endured what Cadence had and survived.
Dr Reynolds returned to update me on Cadence's condition, his words carefully chosen.
"We've stabilised her vitals," he explained.
"Her temperature is slowly coming up, and the fluids are helping with her dehydration.
We'll keep her sedated, warm, and observed for now.
The next steps will be imaging to check for internal injuries and consultation with SARC when appropriate.
" I nodded again, unable to find words that wouldn't emerge as either a roar of rage or a sob of grief.
A nurse approached hesitantly.
"Mr Bale, would you mind shifting to this chair at the head of the bed?
We need to secure her lines fully, and it would be easier if you were seated.
" I moved a few inches to the chair, never breaking contact with Cadence's hand.
The chair was positioned so that I could still see her face and still touch her, but was far enough out of the way that the medical team could work more efficiently.
As they adjusted monitors and secured lines, I pulled out my phone, knowing that the others would be desperate for news. I typed a brief update to the main group that had been set up with my free hand, barely able to form coherent sentences.
Alpha Group:
Alive. In Resus. Sedated.
The replies came almost instantly.
Ryder:
Hunting.
Cole:
I'm here, just outside.
Bruce:
Thank you, on our way now.
Killingham:
Enforcer team en route to hospital. Full protection protocol.
Lynch:
Purcell, I got the hunt. Go see your girl.
Ryder:
Thanks mate. Logan, I’m on my way.
I slipped the phone back into my pocket, my eyes never leaving Cadence's face.
She looked impossibly small in the hospital bed, swallowed by blankets and medical equipment.
My jacket was still draped across her shoulders, my t-shirt still covering her torso beneath the hospital gown they'd managed to place over her arms. They were the only barriers she'd allowed, the only protection she'd accepted.
I thought of all the barriers I'd torn down since she came into my life, her defiance, her independence, her sense of self.
How I'd systematically stripped away her defences, justifying it with the contract, with the Trivium's rules, with my own selfish pride.
And now, looking at her broken body and shattered spirit, I silently apologised for every boundary I'd ever crossed, every wall I'd ever demolished.
"She's safe," a nurse murmured, adjusting a blanket over Cadence's legs. "The medication will help her rest. That's what she needs most right now." I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Rest. As if rest could heal what had been done to her. As if sleep could erase the horrors she'd endured.
The room grew dimmer as some of the overhead lights were switched off, marking the transition from the crisis phase to something more controlled.
The monitors beeped steadily, the IV pumps hummed, and Cadence's chest rose and fell in the shallow rhythm of sedated sleep.
The nurses finished securing dressings and lines, set the pump rates, and tucked the blankets more securely around her frail form.
I studied her face, bruised, swollen, almost unrecognisable, and yet still unmistakably her.
I counted each breath, syncing my own to match, as if by breathing in tandem I could somehow share my strength with her.
Carefully, mindful of the dressing at her temple, I leaned forward and rested my forehead against the crown of her head.
I closed my eyes, inhaling the scent of her beneath the hospital's antiseptic and the lingering stench of that hellhole; there was still something uniquely Cadence, something that had survived despite everything.
"Rest, Princess," I whispered, the promise forming itself without conscious thought. "I'll do the fighting now."