30. Ellie
ELLIE
My eyes won't focus. The silence has weight, pressing against my eardrums until my teeth ache from clenching my jaw.
I do a mental inventory. No stitches pulling, no fresh bruises screaming, just this deep, bone-level throb that makes my skeleton feel three sizes too big for my skin.
I'm clawing out of the fog, but my hands won't move.
My brain's shouting orders they can't hear.
The sheets beneath me are wrong. Too soft. Nothing like the cold vinyl I've been strapped to. There's a blanket. Monitors beeping.
Panic slams into me.
Am I still there? Is this another test?
I force my eyes open. No white coat. No Grace, with that fucking smile she used to hide what she really was. Just a bedroom. Expensive and empty. Heavy curtains keeping the world out.
I try to sit up, and my body tells me to go fuck myself.
Muscles seize, cramping from weeks of being locked in place.
The room spins. I close my eyes and wait for the floor to stop tilting.
Someone dressed me, the torn clothes are gone, replaced with a t-shirt that hangs off me like a tent.
I don't remember that. The gap in my memory sends my heart rate spiking.
"Easy there, Ell's."
I flinch hard, whipping my head toward the voice. Kai's in a chair by the bed, looking like he hasn't slept in days. Hair a shaggy mess, dark circles under his eyes, a fresh bandage on his arm.
"Where..." My voice comes out croaky. Throat raw. I don't know if I've been screaming or if I just forgot how to use it.
"We are at a safe house." He reaches for a bottle of water on the nightstand, clicks the seal open and pours some into a glass. "Killian's place. Three hours from the city. No one knows we're here."
He holds the glass while I drink. The water's cold enough to hurt going down, but I don't care. I drain half of it before I have to breathe.
"How long?"
"Sixteen hours, give or take. I’ve spent the last half-day flushing Grace’s cocktail out of your system and replacing it with my own. It’s the only reason your brain isn't still looping. Your body needed the break."
I look at the clear tubing running into my arm.
It’s a different kind of leash. A chemical tether keeping me from spinning back into the dark.
My body. My mind. Two separate countries now, with no bridge between them.
I can feel where Grace separated me, the places she split apart and rearranged like puzzle pieces that don't fit anymore.
"Grace?"
Something vicious flashes across Kai's face. "Dead. Killian killed her. You don't have to worry about her anymore."
I wait for relief. The vindication. Something. But there's an empty space where the feeling should be, like she scooped that out too.
"The others?"
"Everyone's out. Jackson took a round to the shoulder, but he's fine. Won't shut up about his shirt."
I try to smile. My face doesn't cooperate. The expressions I've been using my whole life feel like someone else's now, borrowed and ill-fitting.
Kai sees it. He sees everything.
"It gets better. The numbness. The disconnect. Your brain's doing what it needs to do."
"I know the theory." A thread of the old me surfaces. "It doesn't make it easier though."
"No. But you're here. That counts for something."
Footsteps sound in the hall. I tense before I can stop myself.
"Gabriel," Kai says. "He's been checking on you every hour."
The door opens. Gabriel fills the frame, all muscle and scowl, but the scowl softens when he sees me awake. He's too big. Too loud. Everything about him is too much right now. I have to blink hard to keep him in focus. He's carrying a mug. Chamomile and honey.
I used to like that smell. I think I did.
I'm not sure anymore.
"Thought you might want this."
Gabriel doesn't bring people tea. Gabriel gives orders, and other people bring tea. But here he is, holding it out like an offering.
"Thank you." My hands shake when I take it.
He shifts his weight awkwardly. "Place is locked down. No one's getting close without us knowing."
"She doesn't need the tactical brief, Gabe."
Gabriel runs a hand through his hair. "Right. What I mean is…you're safe, Ellie. No one's touching you again."
"Where's Killian?"
They exchange a look. Some silent conversation I'm not a part of.
Wait. Did I already ask that? I can't remember.
"Giving you space," Gabriel says. "His call. Said you'd need time before seeing him."
Of course he did. Killian, who reads people like they're written in neon, who knew what I'd need even after he turned my world upside down.
"He's been outside your door most of the night," Kai adds. "Only left to shower an hour ago."
Part of me wants him here. Part of me never wants to see him again. The man who got me out. The man who killed my father. Both are true. Both impossible to reconcile.
"I want to see him."
Gabriel nods. "I'll get him."
Kai stands too. "I'll give you two space."
"Kai?" He stops at the door. "Thank you. For patching me up."
"That's what family does."
Family. The word doesn't fit, but I don't have another one. These men who kill without blinking, who leveled a building to pull me out. They’re what I have now. They didn't just save me. They stayed. They’re my monsters now. And that’s the only family I have left.
Before I can work through it, the door opens.
Killian.
My heart slams against my ribs. He looks wrecked, stubble, hair tousled, eyes bloodshot. Those gray eyes I couldn't stop thinking about, even when Grace was in my head trying to erase them.
We stare at each other. I’m searching the silver flecks of his eyes for the blood Grace promised was there.
If she lied, he’s my savior; if she told the truth, he’s my father’s murderer.
I don’t know which version is real, and the uncertainty feels like his hand over my mouth, taking the air away, like Reed did.
I want to believe that she lied. I desperately need it to be a lie.
"Ellie."
My name in his mouth sounds like sorry.
"She tried to break me." The words come out before I can stop them. "Grace. She tried to make me believe things about you. About us. About what's real."
Pain crosses his face. Anger. Something protective and feral. "What did she tell you?"
I shake my head. "Doesn't matter. Not all of it." I meet his eyes. "She failed."
Relief. But wariness too. He knows she had weeks to work on me.
"I don't know what's real anymore. What I'm thinking, what I'm..." The word disappears. I reach for it, can't find it. "... feeling. What I remember. She scrambled it all."
"We'll figure it out." He doesn't move from the doorway. "Together. However long it takes."
"Will we? Because I look at you and I hear her voice telling me who you really are."
His jaw tightens. "What's she saying?"
"That you're like them. That this was all manipulation. That you could never actually give a shit about someone like me. That I'm just a mission."
The words taste like poison, but I need them out.
"What do you think?"
I study him. Looking for the evil Grace kept showing me. But all I see is exhaustion and worry and something she swore wasn't there.
"I think Grace underestimated me. How well I can read people." I pause. "You're not the monster she tried to sell me."
His shoulders drop an inch. "I'm not perfect. I've done terrible things. She probably showed you."
"She did. But she also tried to tell me that's all you are. I know better."
"What do you need from me?"
"Time. Honesty. When I'm ready for it."
"You'll have both."
"And patience. Because some days her voice is going to be louder than mine."
"However many days it takes."
The words blur together. I'm losing the thread. What were we talking about?
"I'm scared." I didn't mean to say that. My brain-to-mouth filter is gone. Everything just spills out now. "Not of you. Of my own head. Of not being able to trust what I think."
He doesn't move closer. Just nods. "We'll work through it."
The exhaustion crashes over me. I can barely keep my eyes open.
"I need to rest. But Killian?"
He pauses. "Yeah?"
"I'm glad you came for me. Whatever else is fucked up between us, I'm glad you didn't leave me there."
"I would never leave you there. Never."
After he's gone, I sink into the pillows. Exhausted but steadier. Grace tried to poison everything, tried to make me see threats where there was safety.
She failed. Not completely, her voice is still there, whispering. But she didn't destroy what matters: I can still tell what's real.
Tomorrow I'll start untangling her lies. If I can.
Tonight I just need to hold on to this: I'm safe. I'm free.
The man who came for me is who I thought he was.
I think.