Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
XAVIER
Even standing outside her door is too far away.
I want to be right beside Lucy, close enough to watch the slow rise and fall of her chest. Close enough to stand beside her, taking her pulse, feeling the steady thrum of her heart beneath my thumb.
The machines she’s hooked up to all tell me the same thing—that she’s breathing, her heart is beating, she’s not in terrible danger—but it’s not the same.
Not after five days of fearing the worst.
Rationally, I know she’s safe.
With me and my teammates standing guard, the FBI and local police waiting down the hall until Lucy’s ready to give a statement, there’s no possibility of anyone hurting her.
And the doctor said she’s stable. Dehydrated, malnourished, fighting an infection from the wounds on her wrist, not to mention traumatized and exhausted, but stable. As the attending doctor told me after I lied and said I was Lucy’s fiancé, “Physically, Miss Thompson should make a full recovery. She’ll need to stay here a couple of days to rehydrate and treat her infection, and then a few weeks of taking it easy at home, eating lots of nutrient-dense foods and increasing her activities slowly, but her prognosis is excellent.”
“But,” he added, his expression going solemn, “I would highly recommend counseling, Mr. Stone. After what she went through…”
And that’s why I hate being away from her.
I thought I knew what to expect when we burst into that cabin, but reality was so much worse.
My Lucy, so pale I could see the blue of her veins, dark shadows beneath her eyes, her cheeks sunken from days of starving herself. Her wrist red and puffy beneath that hated shackle, clearly infected from the cuts she got trying to get free.
“I went a little crazy at first,” Lucy explained as Rhiannon carefully inspected the infected area. “I thought I could escape. But I couldn’t.”
I can’t even imagine how terrified she must have been.
Fuck.
And watching her cry…
Not just cry, but wrenching sobs that shook her entire body. Desperate, gasping breaths that had her on the verge of hyperventilating. Her eyes red but dry because she was too dehydrated to make tears.
I’ll never forget the look in her eyes when she saw me. Like I was the hero in one of her stories instead of the failure of a boyfriend who let her get taken.
But Lucy would never think that. She wouldn’t blame me. She even said it in the car on the way here, once she calmed down enough to talk. “You saved me,” she whispered in my ear. “I knew you’d come, and you did.”
Is it any wonder I don’t want to leave her side?
But I’m in the hallway with the rest of my team, conferencing about Lucy’s case while she sleeps. As much as I want to stay in her hospital room, I don’t want to risk her waking up while my team discusses her case.
Still. My gaze keeps sliding away from Dante and back towards the open doorway to her room. My attention is split between what he’s saying—something about the FBI—and listening for the steady beep of Lucy’s heart monitor.
So I’m startled when Dante nudges me with his elbow and asks quietly, “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I grimace as I notice my teammates all watching me with worried expressions. “Sorry. I got distracted for a second.”
“It’s fine.” Dante lifts his chin. “I get it. If you want to go back in there?—”
I know Dante understands better than most, given what his girlfriend Sarah went through only a few months ago. Back then, it was Dante in the hospital waiting for news, with the rest of us supporting him.
But Sarah’s attacker was behind bars at that point, not still out there, some anonymous person working for a sick online game. Sarah wasn’t still in danger. Not like Lucy.
And that’s why I need to maintain my focus. So I know everything about Lucy’s case, what the police and FBI plan to do, and how Blade and Arrow is going to keep her safe.
We’ll keep her at the ranch, obviously. But that’s not enough. We need to track down those sick fucks and put them in jail. Make sure Lucy and any other innocent victims aren’t hurt again.
“I want to be here,” I tell Dante, holding his gaze. “I want to do whatever it takes to close this game down and catch the people behind it.”
He lifts his chin at me. “I know. And we will.” After a short pause, he adds, “I talked to Cruz, and he’s asked his boss to be put on Lucy’s case. So that’s good. With Cruz involved, I feel more confident about the FBI’s involvement.”
Cruz Livingston isn’t just our primary contact in the FBI, but also a friend. We met him through Cole, the founder of the original Blade and Arrow branch in Sleepy Hollow, New York. After Cole separated from the Army, he worked for the San Antonio police department for almost a year before quitting to start Blade and Arrow Security. It’s one of the main reasons our Bravo Team branch is located here, so we can take advantage of the connections Cole made.
But in the nine months we’ve been here, those connections have become more. Cruz, Quint with the San Antonio PD, Harley with the Sheriff’s Office, TJ with the highway patrol, Dax with the Rangers… they don’t just help us out and vice versa, but they’ve also become friends.
So I’m glad to hear about Cruz, but that doesn’t mean I want to step back from Lucy’s case. Meeting Dante’s gaze, I ask, “What’s their plan?”
“Well, they want to talk to Lucy, of course.”
“ Now ? She’s not ready.”
“Not now. But as soon as she can. I know it’s tough,” Dante interjects as I get ready to argue. “And no one wants to traumatize her more. But any information she can give is helpful.”
Rhiannon gives me a sympathetic look. “I know it sucks, Xav. But you know she has to.”
Shit. I know she does. “I know,” I grumble. “But I don’t like it.”
“I’m sharing everything I have with the FBI,” Matt says. “Hopefully it’ll help their tech guys find more victims. And I’m going to keep looking. Eventually, the people behind this will make a mistake, and we’ll be there to catch them.”
Dante nods. “And we’ll continue our own investigation in-house. I talked to Cole, and he said Leo’s making Lucy’s case a priority.”
“I’m going to talk to Leo later,” Matt adds. “Between the two of us, I’m hopeful we’ll find something that leads us to the group behind this.”
The band around my chest loosens a little. Matt’s our resident tech genius, and Leo holds the same role for the Sleepy Hollow team. With the two of them investigating, I can’t imagine them not finding some kind of clue.
“Once we can sit down with Lucy and get her story, we’ll make a more detailed plan.” Dante meets my gaze. “We’re bringing her back to B and A, obviously.”
“Of course,” I reply quickly.
“And do you want her in the client apartment?”
“No way.” It’s quick. Adamant. “Lucy shouldn’t be alone. Not after—” Swallowing hard, I pause before continuing. “I want her at my place. So I can make sure she’s getting enough food, rest…”
Rhiannon touches my arm. “Ask her first, Xav. I’m sure she’ll want to. But I think it’s important to give her the choice.”
I lift my chin at my teammate and friend of over six years. “You’re right. I’ll ask her.”
“So when is Lucy getting out of here?” Niall asks. “Jade’s been texting me, asking if there’s anything she can do. She and Sarah offered to go shopping, pick up some things to make Lucy feel more at home when she gets to B and A.”
“The doctor said at least two more days. Just to make sure all her levels are stable and the infection is under control. But if Jade and Sarah want to help…” I trail off as I try to corral my thoughts. “Lucy loves stuff that’s soft. She has this blanket, it feels like fur but it’s not… And she likes candles. Ones that smell like vanilla and cinnamon. Usually she loves to read romance novels, but I’m not sure about now…”
“That’s a good start,” Niall replies with a small smile. “I’m sure Jade will come up with lots of ideas.”
But that gets me thinking. How can I make my apartment comfortable for Lucy?
Her house oozes personality, filled with all her favorite things—cozy couches and chairs draped with blankets handmade by her grandmother, vintage wooden bookshelves exploding with books, lush plants blooming in nearly every room, and the walls covered with framed photos of her friends and family.
It looks like a home, as opposed to my apartment, which Rhiannon once called depressing, but Lucy kindly referred to as austere. But we usually spent time at Lucy’s place, not mine, so the appearance of my apartment didn’t seem that important.
Now, though… She needs to be in a place that makes her feel welcome. Safe. And the way my apartment looks isn’t going to hack it.
Glancing at Rhiannon, I ask somewhat desperately, “Can you help me decorate my apartment? Make it look nicer for Lucy? I’m not sure what to get, and I’m going to be here…”
For the record, I’m not asking Rhi because she’s a woman. But I’ve been in her apartment, and it looks like it belongs on an HGTV show. And not the kind where two flippers come in to fix up a rundown house, but the kind where an interior decorator went to town on it.
“Of course.” Rhiannon’s lips quirk as she holds out her hand. “I’ll just take your credit card.” Her eyes widen in innocence. “You don’t mind if I max it out, do you?”
“Buy whatever you need.” Reaching in my wallet, I hand my card to her. “I don’t care how much you spend. As long as she likes it.”
Her eyes soften to a mossy green. “Lucy will just be happy to be home with you, Xav.”
A lump lodges in my throat. “I hope so.” Glancing around at my teammates, I admit the thought that’s been torturing me for days. “But how can she not blame me?”
Erik’s brows pull into a confused V. “Blame you for what?”
“If I wasn’t in Houston, I would have been with Lucy. She wouldn’t have been taken.”
“But it’s your job,” Erik replies. “And you can’t be with her all the time. I hate to say it, but if not that night, it probably would have been another.”
“Maybe. But I shouldn’t have waited until the next day to come back. I should have been more persistent. Especially when my gut was telling me something was wrong.”
Niall shakes his head. “No, Xav. I wouldn’t have thought?—”
But he’s interrupted by a terrified scream.
Lucy!
Even as I’m sprinting into her room, she screams again.
It’s panicked. Agonized. Desperate.
Logic tells me she’s okay, but my fearful brain has other ideas.
Could someone have somehow gotten past us? Past me?
Did the doctors miss something? Is she hurt more badly than they thought?
Why is it taking so long to cross such a short distance?
It’s less than ten feet, but it feels like ten miles to reach her.
As I enter the darkened room, my heart seizes.
She’s not there.
Not in bed where I left her.
Where’s Lucy?
Did I fail her again?
Then I hear a small whimper. It sounds like it’s coming from the other side of the bed.
There’s a rumble of noise—footsteps, concerned voices—behind me. But my only focus is Lucy.
As I skid around the bed, I see her.
And my heart fractures. Falls to pieces.
She’s curled into a tiny ball on the floor, her body trembling, each scared whimper a painful stab to my chest.
Fuck.
I knew I shouldn’t have left her.
Nightmare or flashback, the result is the same. Lucy is terrified and traumatized all over again. While I wasn’t there to stop it.
But my own guilt isn’t important now. That’s something to deal with later. Now, I need to make sure Lucy’s okay.
So I crouch down beside her and croon, “Luce, sweetheart. It’s okay. You’re in the hospital, you’re safe.”
I repeat it several times until she lifts her head up to look at me with tear-filled eyes. Her chin quivers as she asks, “Xavier?”
“Yeah, sunshine. I’m here.” Now that I know she recognizes me, I gently touch her shoulder. “You’re okay. You’re safe. The whole team is here. No one is going to hurt you.”
As she stares at me, I quickly glance at her hand, relieved to see her IV still attached. The way she must have launched herself off the bed… She could have ripped it out. Could have hurt herself.
The room fills with light and Lucy flinches. “It’s too bright,” I growl over my shoulder. “It’s hurting her eyes.”
Soft footsteps approach, and an unfamiliar voice says kindly, “Let’s get Miss Thompson back into bed. Then we can make sure she’s not hurt.”
Lucy scoots closer to me, and my arms come around her instinctively. She glances over my shoulder at the nurse and whispers, “I’m okay.”
“Luce, let’s let them check you out.” I slowly lift her to her feet. “Just a quick look, okay?”
But she is okay, or at least, she’s not hurt any worse.
Once Lucy’s settled back in bed, I take her hand, holding it gently. Feeling terrible, I say, “I’m sorry, Luce. I was in the hallway, I didn’t leave you. But I should have?—”
“I thought I was back there,” she interrupts quietly. “When I woke up. It was dark, and I saw the light from the monitor, and… I thought it was a dream that you rescued me.”
Oh.
My gut twists.
“Oh, Luce. I’m so sorry.”
She squeezes my hand. “It’s not your fault. It’s just the dark. It reminded me…”
“We’ll leave the lights on.”
After a pause, Lucy gives me a tiny nod. “Will you… lay with me? I don’t feel scared when you’re here.”
OH.
My heart.
There’s no hesitation. Fuck the hospital rules. Nothing could make me deny Lucy what she wants.
So I nudge her over on the bed and lie down beside her, carefully taking her into my arms. She snuggles into my side and lets out a soft sigh. “This is better.”
I can’t remember the last time I was this close to tears.
And I can’t remember ever feeling more thankful.
Pressing my lips to the top of her head, I murmur, “It is.”