Chapter 67
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
Drago
Song- Slip Away, UNSECRET, Ruelle.
I tap my finger against the desk, the sharp rhythm cutting through the low hum of the room as we wait for Enzo to join the call on the screen.
“You okay?” Reggie asks from beside me.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” I brush him off.
I’m not.
Something is fucking nagging me, a tightness under my ribs I can’t shake. The kind that doesn’t come from fear or violence, but from knowing something is wrong and not yet knowing what.
The call clicks in, and all attention shifts to Enzo. His face fills the screen. He starts talking, but my focus slips. Words blur together.
Something about a church. Something about how the peace talk is going to work.
I check the time on my watch. I’ve been itching to get back to Lily since I left this morning. Since the way she looked at me. Since the way she tried to cover whatever she was feeling with sex. With closeness. With distraction.
It didn’t fool me.
Her smile gave her away. The one she uses when she’s hurting and doesn’t want anyone to see it.
I glance at my watch again. Slower this time. My eyes snag on the date.
My breath stutters. I blink once. Then my heart slams so hard it hurts.
Fuck.
I stand up so fast my chair screeches back, nearly tipping over. The room goes dead silent. I’m suddenly aware of every pair of eyes on me.
“I-I need to go,” I blurt out, looking at Declan.
His jaw twitches. “Go? Are you sick? Sit back down, Drago.”
This day. Five years ago. The day Lily’s world shattered. The day she learned how to survive by locking pieces of herself away. She keeps the demons at bay better than anyone I know.
But anniversaries don’t give a fuck how strong you are.
“No. Lily needs me.”
Concern floods Declan’s face. “Is it an emergency? More important than taking down the Preacher?”
“Lily is more important than anything. Someone can fill me in after. I’m sorry. I need to go.” The words are final. No debate. No hesitation.
I don’t look back.
I’m already moving, already pulling my phone from my pocket as I jog toward my car parked out the back of Inferno.
I hit dial.
No answer.
“Fuck.” I hiss.
I call again. And again. Each unanswered ring ratchets the pressure tighter in my chest. It’s only a few minutes’ drive, but it feels endless.
I put my foot to the floor. I don’t remember half the drive. Just the roar of the engine and the single thought burning through me.
Please be okay, please be okay.
I slam the car into park and sprint inside.
Lev is in the kitchen, rubbing his eyes as he pours coffee. I barely register him. My gaze is already tearing through the room, searching.
“Drago? What the fuck is happening?”
“Nothing.” I snap.
I’m already moving again. I take the stairs two at a time and barge straight into her room.
The shower is running. And then I hear it. Her sobs. Muffled by the water, broken and raw. Each sound punches straight through me. I’ve never seen her on an anniversary. She always hides out at home.
I’ve never been this close to her when she’s had a full attack. I’ve never been able to see just how much the woman I love is carrying. Just how heavy the weight of it is on her.
All those other times, I wasn’t able to help her. Not this time. I’m here now. Never again will she have to do this on her own.
I can hear the pain in her sobs through the door. And every single one breaks something inside of me.
I don’t hesitate.
I kick the bathroom door fully open and step straight into the steam, letting it slam closed behind me.
The heat hits me like a wall, but it barely registers.
All I can hear is her. All I can see is Lily curled in on herself beneath the spray, arms wrapped around her middle like she’s trying to hold herself together.
“Hey,” I say softly, already crossing the space. “Hey, baby. I’ve got you.”
I drop to my knees in front of her, water soaking through my shirt, my jacket, everything. I don’t care. None of it matters. I pull her into me, her forehead knocking against my chest as she lets out a broken sound that shreds straight through my ribs.
She’s shaking. Violently. Like her body doesn’t know what year it is anymore.
“I’m here,” I murmur, wrapping her up tight, one arm around her back, the other cradling the back of her head, pressing her face into my neck. “You’re not alone. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
Her hands fist in my clothes like I’m the only solid thing left in the world. Her sobs hitch and stutter, breath coming too fast, too shallow.
I ground us both. Plant my knees. Slow my breathing on purpose. “Lily,” I say gently. “Listen to me. Look at me. Please, lastochka.”
She can’t. Her eyes are squeezed shut, lashes wet, mouth trembling.
“That’s okay,” I tell her. “You don’t have to look. Just breathe with me.”
I press my forehead to hers, water streaming down our faces, and start counting quietly against her ear.
“I-I think I’m dying, Drago,” she stutters.
“In through your nose,” I say, drawing the breath myself so she can feel it. “Slow. That’s it. Hold it… now out. Good. Again.”
She fights it at first. Her body bucks, panic clawing for air, for escape. I tighten my hold, not trapping her, anchoring her.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell her firmly. “Not now. Not ever. You hear me? This will pass. It always does. It feels like it won’t, but it will. You trust me, right? I promise you, you will get through this.”
Another breath. Then another. Her shaking eases just a fraction.
“That’s it,” I whisper. “Good girl. You’re doing so good.”
Her sobs soften into quiet, broken cries, her face pressed into my throat. I rub slow circles into her back, big and steady, the same motion over and over until her body starts to remember the present.
“I know,” I murmur when a fresh wave hits her. “I know what day it is. I should’ve been here sooner. I shouldn’t have left you. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Guilt coils tight in my chest. I should have remembered. Should have planned better. Should have never left her alone on this day. She’s dealt with this on her own for five years. Every single day battling the demons in her head. And it breaks my damn heart.
The brain makes you feel things that you’re trying to bury. It doesn’t let you escape. It’s not about strength. This doesn’t make you weak. It’s trying to simply survive the only way it knows how.
I fight back the emotions rising in me. The rage. The fury. The sadness that this is her reality, and I can’t dive into her head and make it stop.
All I can do is be here with her. But right now, all that matters is keeping her here. With me.
“You’re going to be okay,” I repeat. “This pain isn’t forever. It’s loud today, that’s all. Tomorrow it will be quieter. And the next day quieter still.”
She whimpers my name, barely audible.
“I’ve got you,” I say immediately. “I’ve always got you.”
I kiss the top of her head, then her temple, then just hold her there under the water, fully dressed, fully soaked, fully committed.
I’m not letting go. Not when she’s like this. Not when she’s hurting. Not ever again.
She doesn’t fight these ghosts alone anymore.
I stay there with her until her breathing slows, until her grip loosens just enough to tell me she’s still here.
And even then, I don’t let go.
She’s stuck with me forever.