Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Kade
Isabelle falls back like someone pulled a plug from her mind.
Logan releases me, and I get off Michael’s bloodied body to rush to her side.
Panic rises in me at the sight of her lifeless body, but my mind calms when I notice the slow rise and fall of her chest. She’s breathing, but she’s out cold. Like someone who’s been drugged.
Given what I know about Michael, that motherfucker, I don’t have to ask if my assumptions are correct. I know.
“What did you give her?” I roar, glaring at Michael trying to pick his teeth up off the floor.
“Fuck you,” he spits.
Logan rams a fist in his face. “You heard him. What the hell did you give her?”
Logan proceeds to grab Michael around his neck and shake him. My friend can be worse than me because he has no off-switch when it comes to violence.
“Roofie and…ecstasy,” he coughs, spitting blood.
I growl, baring my teeth like an animal. The asshole drugged her, and he was going to rape her.
I know I can be over the top and I’m a handful for most people, but this is one time I’m glad that I am who I am. “How much?”
“Two tablets.”
Fuck. I would never use shit like that on anyone, but I know dealers who do. Two roofies means your target can be knocked out for the whole night. But this shit was mixed with ecstasy. I don’t know what that can do to a person’s system.
“Logan, I have to get her to the hospital.”
“Call 911.”
Several people have started entering the room, probably from hearing the commotion.
I pay no attention to them. Isabelle needs me, so I grab my phone and call for an ambulance.
I’ve never been more worried in my life than tonight.
I watched the paramedics load Isabelle into the ambulance, and I hated how helpless I felt.
I rode to the hospital with her. She was still unconscious right up until the moment we got there, then she came to and started mumbling.
Nothing she said made sense. It was all a load of sayings strung together until she fell asleep again, but even in her sleep she was restless. As if she were fighting demons.
The doctors did tests and placed an IV drip in her arm. It was only then that she started to calm.
That was fifteen minutes ago. I’ve been sitting by her side since.
Logan is here with me, so he’s been getting coffee. Between the journey here, the testing, and the waiting, we’ve been with Isabelle for nearly three hours.
Logan is out getting coffee again. When the door opens again, I think it’s him, but it’s the doctor.
“Hey, the results just came in,” he says.
“Is she going to be okay?”
“She is, but I will speak to her when she wakes up. I’ve notified her father with the details you gave me.”
“Thanks, but can’t you tell me anything more?”
“For privacy reasons, I can’t go into details.”
“But I’m her…” I stop myself because I don’t know what I am to her.
Quite likely, if this doctor knew how fucked up I was and how I stalked her for weeks before I launched my plans, he’d lock me up.
He stares back at me, waiting for me to finish my sentence.
“I’m her friend.” Isabelle and I have never been friends, but I think that’s how all relationships start.
“Okay, friend .” He offers me kind smile. “I can assure you she’s out of the woods. She just needs to ride out the symptoms. We’ll keep her here for the night for observation. Okay?”
I nod. “I’m staying.”
“I thought you might say that. There’s an extra pillow and a blanket in the cupboard.” He points to the cupboard across from Isabelle’s bed. “A nurse will come back to check on her vitals again in a little while.”
“Thank you.”
He dips his head and leaves.
I look back at Isabelle, wishing she’d wake up again. At least I’d know how she was doing if she were awake.
I keep thinking that if I’d been a minute later, fucking Michael would have raped her.
When Logan and I got to the Blue Rose, I went straight to one of Michael’s friends.
I had to rough him up a little bit before he told me Michael had gone upstairs with Isabelle. I didn’t know which room they’d gone into until I heard her scream.
It’s strange I knew it was her. When I kicked the door in and saw Michael on top of her with her dress torn off her body and him hitting her, I wanted to tear his skin from his body and rip him apart limb from limb.
Logan’s words stopped me from killing Michael.
If I went to Hallows, everything would be over and I would never see Isabelle again.
If not for that one tiny thing, I would have killed him. Instead of being sent to the Bratva compound in New York, he’d be in the morgue downstairs.
I would have preferred the latter. He’ll probably be stripped of his Knighthood and expelled from Raventhorn, then the Knights will deal with him in whatever way they see fit. I’ll see to that, but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough.
The door opens once more, and Logan walks in carrying two cups of coffee.
“Any change?” he asks.
“No. She’s going to be okay, though, once the symptoms pass.”
He walks over to me and hands me a cup. “Sorry, man. Never seen you like that before. Enraged .” He raises his brows, stretching the tattoos on his face. “Guess we’re not playing games anymore with her.”
“No.” I press my lips together.
“What do you need me to do?”
“I’m good. You should head back to campus. I’m gonna stay the night.”
“I can sit with you if you want.”
“Nah. I’m alright. Thanks for your help. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”
“Okay, bro. Call me if you need me. I’ll fill in Dmitri.”
We bump fists, and he heads back out.
I down the coffee and welcome the fix it gives me. I’ve had three cups already, so I should be able to stay awake all night if I need to.
I move closer to the bed and take Isabelle’s dainty hand. A bruise is still on her face from where Michael hit her. She actually has a shiner.
I don’t know how anyone could look at her and hurt her like that.
Time is so fucked up. Last night, the two of us were happy and free. We were enjoying each other, and I couldn’t get enough of her. Nothing else existed outside us.
Look at us tonight.
Suddenly, she opens her eyes and stares at me, but there’s a vague, listless look on her face that makes me think she’s not completely aware. A similar thing happened before, but now she seems more awake.
“Isabelle, baby, are you awake?”
She doesn’t answer. She just keeps staring at me, then she blinks into focus. “Kade.”
“Yes. It’s me.”
“Can you see her?”
She must be hallucinating again. “Who are we looking at?”
“My mother. Tell her she’s about to die.” Her whisper-soft words grip me. “I’m supposed to stay here and hide. She made me promise.”
“It’s just us in here, Lolita.”
“No, she’s right there. We drove to the warehouse. We’re in danger. There’s a man with a gun. He’s going to shoot her. Help her, please.”
She wasn’t talking like this before. Deep in my soul I know this isn’t just ramblings. She’s talking like she’s telling me something that happened. Something real.
“Isabelle—”
“Kade, he’s going to shoot her. The other man is going to tell him to kill her. Ubey etogo narushitelya spokoystviya seychas zhe,” she cries in Russian.
Kill that troublemaker now. That’s what it means.
“Save her, Kade. No one is going to believe me that someone else was there. They won’t believe me. But if we save her, then it never happens. She’ll still be alive.”
My mouth drops, and I realize she was there. She was there when her mother was killed. She saw it happen.
Tears stream down her cheeks, and all I can do is get up and pull her into my arms, holding her as she cries.
It’s morning now.
I didn't sleep last night. I held Isabelle in my arms until she fell asleep again, then the nurses came to check her vitals.
I stayed awake and watched her sleep because I couldn’t stop thinking about what she said to me about her mother.
Now that it’s morning, I’m thinking about it even more. And how I never knew what really happened to Isabelle.
It’s eight, and she’s still asleep. The doctors have just come by to check her again, so I’m going to get some fresh air and coffee. Her father will be here soon.
I haven’t seen Principal Kolyav since graduation, and since I know I was a nightmare to the man in high school, I’m not exactly looking forward to seeing him.
I’m sure he knows about the trouble Isabelle and I have had over the last few months— because of me. The man would also probably murder me before I could take my next breath if he knew I’d defiled his precious baby girl.
I get the coffee and take a walk outside while I drink it. Then I head back to the room, and my spirits lift when I see Isabelle sitting up in bed.
She looks drained but more like herself, and when she looks at me, she’s really looking at me. Those brown eyes are alive with hope, and they stare back at me with that same look of fascination she used to give me in high school.
“Kade,” she rasps.
“Lolita, you’re awake.”
“They gave me an injection, and it woke me right up.” She smiles weakly.
“I hate injections, too.” I walk toward her. “How are you feeling?”
“Like hell, but it could have been worse if not for you. Thank you. Thank you for saving me. Thank you for going to the club. And for being here.”
“It’s okay.”
“I was only with Michael because he wanted to talk to me. I wasn’t going to do anything with him. I… promise.”
A thin smile spreads across my face. “It’s funny. I never once thought you might do anything with him.”
“How did you know?”
“He’s not your type. I am. You liked me first, remember?”
Her eyes fill with tears. “Yes, I remember. I liked you first.”
I nod and take her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She stares back at me, but then the smile in her eyes fades and they cloud with sorrow and pain.
“I said some stuff to you last night. About my mom.” She speaks in a careful tone, as if she’s scared the walls will hear her.
“That was real, wasn’t it?”
Slowly, she nods and brings her hands together in her lap. “I…didn’t mean to talk about it, but it was like I was there again.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you saw it happen.”
She drags in a breath. “Not many people know that. I wasn’t going to bring it up again, but I thought I should because I said so much. In my state of craziness, I really thought you could save her.”
“I would have if I could.”
“I know.”
“Isabelle, you said there was someone else there and no one believed you.”
Something dims her eyes, but she nods. “It wasn’t just the shooter, but I never saw the other man. He spoke in Russian, and they left after they killed my mother. I was so scared I couldn’t move. I watched her die from my hiding place, and I kept thinking the men would come back to kill me.”
“No one has been able to identify the other guy?”
“No. No one. There’s no evidence. Everyone tried everything. Even me, and I nearly made everything worse.”
“What did you do?”
She takes a moment to think before speaking. “When I was fifteen, I worked at a gallery with a man I thought was him. I didn’t have a plan other than to get close to him.”
The moment she says the word gallery, my interest piques.
Is she going to tell me what connection she had to Nikoli?
It has the same circumstance. She worked in one gallery when she was fifteen. The same gallery my father was hosting the exhibition.
“What happened?”
“Nothing at all. I met a man there who told me he could help me get information on the man I was tracking. I was desperate, so I believed him. You’ll believe anything when you’re desperate. He claimed that the paintings in the exhibition were stolen, and he wanted to get them back. So, he needed my help. In return, he’d help me, but he turned out to be a hacker. He used me, and when he hacked the system, he left me high and dry with nothing.”
My stomach flips and my insides churn. Fuck. That’s the answer on how she became involved.
The answer I never bothered to seek.
That is the thing I never cared about because I considered Isabelle as guilty as everyone else who pulled the trigger and slaughtered my family.
That hacker must have been from the Malina. He used her to get to my family by preying on her desire to find her mother’s killer. “The hacker just left?”
“Yes. I never had a name, and no one knew who he was. No cameras picked him up. It was like I made him up. I couldn’t even identify him properly with a drawing. I could have gotten myself and my family in some serious trouble. And it was all for nothing. That was the last time anybody tried to find the man who wanted my mother dead. That was the last time I tried.”
She only helped the hacker because she wanted the truth. A lead.
I can’t blame her for that.
What she did is something I would have done. It’s something I would do now for justice.
She releases a heavy sigh. “Apart from my father, I’ve never told anyone that story.”
“It’s safe with me. I will never share it with anyone.”
“Thank you.”
“Rest up. Try not to worry. I’m here.”
An appreciative smile floats over her lips, and I squeeze her hand again.
The crude revelation sinks in along with that dark feeling of despair.
We both have unsolved mysteries from the past that weigh down our souls. Mine torment me day and night, but I can’t imagine how she must feel after seeing her mother die and knowing the killer still walks free.
I was there, too, when my parents died, but I never watched them die.
It was wrong of me to blame her. And it’s best I don’t tell her anything about what that hacker really did. Or how he used her.
I thought about this the other night and knew that telling her would hurt her to no end.
She’ll want to know at some point, but I’ll cross that bridge when we have to.
Not today.