Chapter 29
It’s like I’m suspended between the sterile lights in the ceiling, burning through my lids, and the weird, fuzzy warmness of the bed.
They’re brighter than the goddamn sun, but it isn’t them I’m focused on.
The blanket is itchy, foreign, and uncomfortable.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been in this bed, but it’s been long enough for the pain and memories to continue seeping through the cracks.
The physical pain isn’t what’s hurting me. It’s deeper and darker.
Through my haze of drugs and exhaustion, I hear a voice I know, one that cuts through the noise in my head and always has since the moment we met.
Malik.
Was that my voice?
Did I just say his name?
Am I dreaming?
My body aches, every movement as though my limbs have been crushed.
“Malik,” I breathe his name again, but my throat burns, and then I feel it…at least I think I do.
His hand, touching the skin on mine, is warm as our fingers intwine.
“Isla?” a voice says, different but the same. “Isla, what have you gotten yourself into?”
My lids flutter, the blurry make-shift hospital room slowly coming into focus, the beeping machines and sterile air like a cage surrounding me, keeping me immobile. My cracked lips wobble as I grip onto Astrid’s hand.
“Astrid? Oh my god,” I whisper as she places her other hand onto mine. “Are you okay?” I ask, remembering I was on my way to see her.
“May I remind you that you are the one in a hospital bed?” She smiles sweetly.
“But, the blood…and…”
She shakes her head. “We can talk about it all later.”
Then it pummels me all over, the entire night coming back to me like a recurring nightmare. “Malik,” I rasp, the pain in my shoulder pulsing as I make a move to reach for my phone on the table by my bed.
“Isla.” Astrid glances over at a tall figure cast in shadows in the corner of the room. His arms crossed, he tips his chin up to look at me.
“He’s been arrested,” Emmett says, a sadness to his tone.
“I need to see him.”
“You cannot leave,” he says, stepping forward near the foot of my bed. “You’re now my responsibility.”
“I’m not anyone’s fucking responsibility. I need to see him!” I wince at the pull from my cannula as Astrid tries to calm me.
“Please, Isla, just listen,” she begs.
“NO! He’s going to be charged, and he’ll go to prison if I don’t do something.
” I raise my voice, annoyed that they don’t see what I do.
Then the blazing pain is back, rushing from my head and settling at the back of my eyes.
I suck in a breath through my teeth, covering my eyes from the brightness.
Flashes of images from the night in Benedict’s house mix with my memories of Malik, muddling them together.
In place of blue eyes, I see his. Handsome, powerful, and so recklessly possessive.
“I have to see him,” I grit out.
Emmett sighs. “They won’t allow anyone to see him.”
“He’s allowed a visit from his lawyer.”
“I don’t think that’s going to pass anymore,” Astrid says in a small voice. “Someone else is looking after his case now, remember?”
Fuck.
There’s a rap at the door, and I peel my eyes open to see Ezra step inside the room.
“Miss Knight,” he says, and the room stills. “Ask your friends to leave. I need a word with you. Alone.”
I nod to Astrid and Emmett, and they leave, one after the other, shutting the door behind them.
“Miss Knight, there are a few things you need to know about your father.”
“I know he’s mixed up in this somehow, but I don’t know the extent. Does he know what they did to me?” I ask, not afraid to know the entire answer.
He shakes his head, the suit perfectly tailored to his build, stretching as he runs a hand through his hair. “Before Tony died, he met with him.”
My saliva sticks in my throat, and I cough. The ache in my ribs is still present, most likely bruised from the countless assaults. He hands me a cup of water, and I take a sip.
“There’s more, but I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you.”
“Tell me everything.”
He pauses, considering if he should, but he doesn’t. Instead, he drags a metal trash can from the corner of the room to the side of my bed where I can see. He pulls a manila folder from his blazer and opens it to reveal my name.
“I’ll do you a different kindness as a sign of the respect I have for Malik.
” He opens the folder, revealing images of me and Beatrice covered in blood from the night he picked us up.
Then he does something I never thought he would.
He throws the files into the bin and chases it with an open lighter, the flames slowly burning the photographs.
“All soft copies are also now permanently deleted.”
I feel my brows crease. “Why would you do this for me? I thought you’d want to hold this over me until I died so I could continue doing your dirty work.”
He sighs, watching the flames. “Sometimes even the smallest of hardships deserve mercy.” He shakes his head. “If my brothers heard me say that, they’d call me soft. But over the years, if there is one thing I’ve learnt, it’s that some things can be won by force. And others by trust.”
“You trust me now?”
“After you learn about your father’s history, I doubt you’ll want to be on his side anyway. So, yes, I trust you to make the decision I would…the decision that Malik would.”
“Don’t leave anything out.”
He showcases a smile I haven’t seen before. It’s mixed with victory, trust, and allegiance. “I’ll tell you the stories that are mine to tell…But I think you’d prefer to hear them come from the source, no?”
It’s the only thing I’ve wanted since they forced me into that car, and all my memories started to come back in fragments. The only piece that’s missing is how and why Judge Gordon is involved in all of this.
“First, I want to see Malik, and I know out of everyone, you have the power to make that happen.”