Chapter 7
Cold.
I was freezing, laying naked on a table with small needles attached to leads up and down my arms and legs while larger adhesive leads were on my stomach, chest and back.
I was shaking against the restraints, a blinding light above me keeping me from seeing the shadowy figures talking behind their surgical masks.
They were going to cut me open, while I was awake, I just knew it.
And then what?
Why were they doing this?
I began to sob and another needle punctured my arm. I screamed, and begged them to stop before my lips went numb. Within seconds I couldn’t move at all, but I was still awake.
“Shhh, my beautiful girl,” said that voice.
Fingers ran along my forehead, my temple, down my cheek.
“I wonder what I’ll find when I crack you open?”
My shaking became more violent.
“Will you be as beautiful inside as you are outside? Or will you disappoint me when I meet the real you?”
I didn’t want to disappoint this man. I had a feeling that would be very bad, but I had no idea what he wanted.
Then the pain started.
Small at first, like electricity streaming up my arms. Then stronger, until it felt like they were putting fire in my marrow.
I tried to scream but no sound came out. My vision swam and suddenly my lips were working again.
The pain was everywhere, there was nothing else, not even the cold.
I let loose, and a screech bellowed up from my very guts. I’d never screamed like that in my life, I didn’t sound human, and it kept coming without the need to stop and breathe.
Something was crawling down my throat, wiggling and oily, and I was choking to death. I convulsed on the hard table, knowing that no one cared if I died here.
When it was done, I was being wheeled into a different room. My whole body was on fire and there was something inside of me, I could feel it trying to get out. I kept trying to dig open my chest, and the men in white were grabbing my hands to keep me from letting it out.
Eventually I got though and looked down into a gaping hole in my middle. Dark as midnight, a lake of black sat there.
I stared at it in shock and disgust.
“Ah, yes,” the voice said again, the dark shape of a man attached to it, “you are even more special than I’d hoped.”
And then I was screaming again.
Someone was holding onto my shoulders, calling my name.
I swam up from the terror toward that sound, that feeling. I knew there was safety up there, peace. It was like swimming through Jell-O, slow and confusing. I came to consciousness but my mind was fuzzy, my eyes heavy. When they did, I saw Darius’ face, close and staring down at me creased with worry.
I didn’t think, just threw my arms around him and started to cry. It was awful, this feeling of being so fragile, so torn up. I didn’t want him to see that, knowing the guilt he carried around for what had happened to me. But I couldn’t hold it back right now. The nightmare had felt so real.
“Shhh, baby, you’re safe.” He was rubbing my back with those massive hands of his, his voice soothing. “I’ve got you.”
“D-don’t let me go,” I whimpered as I clung to him.
“No. I’m not letting you go.”
I swore I heard a deeper meaning in his voice than just the simple assurance that he was going to hold me until I stopped shaking, and I let myself grab a hold of it, to fall into the sensation of his hard, enormous body against mine, the tree trunk arms holding me so tight. There was something more profound unfolding inside of me every time I came in contact with him. It was beyond safety, though that was part of it. It was warm and soft, it was comforting.
Home…he feels like home.
His reaction to kissing me earlier was confusing as hell; at first he didn’t want to, then he was acting like he would’ve gladly fucked me against that truck. But I wasn’t naive enough to think that it meant anything more than a biological reaction. Darius had always kept his distance, had always held that line.
But I’m special to him…I saw it.
Special how was the question. I still hadn’t been able to stop seeing all the dead bodies, the murders that haunted him alongside his jumbled up feelings about me.
“You’re shaking,” he whispered.
“I…I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize.”
He sat on the bed and put a few inches of distance between us. I wiped my eyes, tucking hair away from my face. It was a mess and I probably looked like some kind of crazed red dandelion. I tried to smooth it down and knew it was a lost cause.
“You want to talk about it?” he asked.
I shook my head and the movement triggered an extreme gag reflex. Bile shot up my throat and I bolted to the bathroom, Darius close behind. As I emptied my stomach in a motel toilet, he held my hair, and rubbed my back in soft circles. It didn’t last long, thank goodness. And when I was done, he helped me sit on the toilet, and bathed my face with a cold wash cloth.
Considering how many times he’d had to nurse me through drinking too much when he first started working for my family, this was familiar and therefore oddly…nice, normal.
He put toothpaste on my toothbrush, handed it to me and left the bathroom without a word. Even though he was just in the next room, I felt colder without him near and shivered. I brushed quickly and then got the tangles out of my hair enough to put it into a loose braid that would hopefully hold through the night.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, he was sitting up on his bed, legs stretched out, with a paperback open and face down next to him. The thing my gaze snagged on was his bare feet. It was strange, but in all the years he’d been with me, I’m not sure I’d ever really seen them. It was surprisingly intimate and it warmed the chill inside.
It’s just feet. Not like he’s asking you to go out…
I felt a flush rise to my cheeks as I made my way past him and back to my bed.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing, just a stray thought.”
He grunted, looked down at his hands, and I could guess what he thought it was about.
“It wasn’t any of your memories,” I said.
He grunted again and glanced up at me.
“It makes you nervous that I know, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“Not any more than you want to talk about that nightmare.”
I nodded.
“Got it.”
I snuggled back down under the covers but a restlessness was worming its way into my mind. The tension of my nightmare, and his past, was thick between us, a cloud that was growing to obscure any of the closeness we’d had. I understood why he didn’t want to talk about his past. I couldn’t imagine the pain he must have after…
First his family. Then his entire Archive Special Investigations Unit. And he blamed himself but he can’t remember either attack so how does he know his berserker did it or the person attacking?
I wanted to ask, to point out how the memory gap left a lot of things up for debate, how none of this changed a thing between us. Even if what I saw about me, that glimmer of happiness, didn’t mean he wanted me like I wanted him, even if all I ever had was friendship with him, this didn’t have to change that. At least not for me.
But as the minutes ticked by and I tried to fall back to sleep, with Darius sitting there, his shoulders tight and expression pinched, I knew that it had changed something for him.
“I’m sorry I kissed you,” I blurted out.
His eyes snapped to mine, red and narrow under furrowed brows.
“I mean, it wasn’t bad or anything, but you obviously didn’t want to and I shouldn’t have pushed.”
Darius paused, considering.
“It was a good plan and it worked.”
And then he went back to his book.
I stared at him, mind screeching to a halt as my body heated.
A good plan?
A good plan?
That’s all it was?
Not an incredible fucking kiss that forever changed the definition of the word?
Not a life altering experience?
Not even a moment of weakness where he let his guard down?
It was just a good plan?
Isn’t that what I wanted though? I didn’t do it for anything else but survival so how the hell can I be angry at him for seeing it for exactly what it was supposed to be?
It was a logical question and I didn’t give a shit.
I turned over with my back to him and let out a long breath in an attempt to calm down.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked.
“Nope.”
He was silent for a few seconds and I waited for the follow-up. I was about to turn around and see what the hell he was doing when he cleared his throat nervously.
Darius is never nervous.
“Do you…uh, I mean…would it help to...”
“Use your words,” I said, shooting a grin at him from over my shoulder.
He pressed his lips together in a frown but I could see the way his lips wanted to turn up at the ends.
“Thanks for the advice,” he said with a healthy dose of playful sarcasm.
“Any time, I know how socially awkward you are.”
He frowned at me.
“I’m not socially awkward.”
“You barely spoke two words to any of my friends. Ever.”
“Only because your friends didn’t talk about anything interesting.”
“Oh come on, you have to admit that Arya’s tirade about Prada versus vintage Channel was at least moderately interesting.”
“As it related to how society views wealth and the disposable mindset of the rich, certainly.”
I couldn’t help cackling at that, and I rolled over onto my back.
“She was one of my closest friends,” I said, with a tinge of sadness. “I wonder what she’s doing now.”
“She got married a few months back.”
“No! To who?”
Darius shrugged.
“Some rich guy.”
“That narrows it down, thanks.”
My smile faded as I thought of the things I’d missed while I was held captive. Not just holidays and growing up as normally as the daughter of a billionaire could, but the little things. The movies and concerts. The silly dramas and fallings out, the weddings and break ups.
“What are you thinking?” Darius whispered.
It surprised me enough to drag me from the darkness of those musings so that I didn’t fall into despair. He’d never asked me that before. I glanced over to answer and the words faded on my tongue.
His gaze was so open, soft. I’d never seen him look at me like that before, like he wasn’t my bodyguard, he wasn’t fifteen years older than me. He was just my friend, someone who cared about me. Maybe something more…
“I’m sorry,” he looked away with a start, “that was…”
“No, it’s…I was thinking about how my life would’ve been different if I hadn’t been taken.”
He waited, eyes back on me but wary.
I licked my lips and his red gaze followed it. Was that a hungry look? Or just…
“I wish I could’ve stopped it,” he said, his voice hard with regret.
“You almost died to save me. It wasn’t your fault.”
“You should’ve been going to friends’ weddings, to club openings, shopping, not…”
I sat up on my elbows and frowned at him.
“You think I miss club openings? That I would’ve just gone on as I had been without any change?”
My voice softened at that last question as the truth of it hit me.
“Nina, that’s not—”
“I would’ve,” I said with shock and a bit of self-loathing. “I would’ve just floated along and…what would’ve been different? Nothing was making me change, no one was requiring it of me.”
“You would’ve made the decision when you were ready.”
“No, I wouldn’t have. I’m not saying I’m glad this happened, not even close. But…maybe if I can use it to change my trajectory, make a better life, a more meaningful one than what I was building…maybe then it wouldn’t just be nightmares and panic attacks.”
His beautiful mouth tilted up into a crooked smile and he gave a breathy chuckle.
“What?” I asked.
“You. That right there. It’s why I know that, even if this hadn’t happened, you’d never be satisfied with just being someone’s accessory, just another rich girl with a perfume line. You’re strong, Nina. Brave and brilliant. You were always destined for so much more.”
It was dizzying how Darius could go from cold and reserved to so open and warm, looking at me like I was the most amazing woman in the entire world.
I remembered what I’d glimpsed when I’d touched his blood, his vision of me, the memories he held dear. I wanted it to mean something, but in reality, it could just be friendship; goodness knows Darius didn’t really have any friends or family to speak of. And we spent plenty of time together so maybe I was…
A little sister? Ugh, no! He wouldn’t have kissed me like that if that was the case. But maybe…maybe it is friends…
But that didn’t really capture it either. At least not completely. There were certainly shades of that in what I saw, but there was something else too. Did I dare poke at that and try to find out what it all meant?
It was a lot to take in and try and figure out. I was exhausted from being saved and running for my life, and everything was topsy turvy. I didn’t have any safe place to land. And here was Darius looking at me like I was some kind of treasure, and saying words I would’ve killed to hear before all of this.
“And what does ‘so much more’ look like for me?” I asked him, not missing the brief glance to my tits.
With the way I was propping myself up, I knew they were thrust up to full advantage.
“Whatever you want it to,” he answered.
I thought about that. What I would want if all of this went away, if I wasn’t Nina York, heiress, and just…me.
“What’s that look?”
I glanced over and his face had softened around the eyes and mouth, without losing any of the intensity that made my stomach flip.
“I was just thinking,” I said, “about what I’d do if all of this didn’t exist.”
The words sat between us, full of tension as we stared at one another. I almost asked him what he saw when he looked at me like that but I wasn’t sure he’d tell me.
I almost looked away when Darius finally broke the silence.
“You’d want a little coffee shop in a little town,” his voice was husky, sending shivers across my skin.
I wanted to ask him how the hell he knew that. I’d never told anyone, mostly because it was a pipe dream. In what world would I be able to be so anonymous that I could own a coffee shop in the middle of nowhere? My friends would’ve been horrified that I wanted something so small, something that far away from the shops and parties that defined their life.
“It would have large windows to let in the sunshine, bright flowers in pots out front and hanging from the ceiling,” he continued, and my breath hitched. “You’d probably have a kids’ area—”
“Coloring station,” I whispered, hardly able to get the words out. “And every Thursday night I’d host trivia night. How…how could you know…?”
He looked away and shrugged.
“It was my job to watch you, so I did. And after a while…” he rubbed his hand across his mouth, one of the few nervous gestures he had, “I dunno, it was the way you’d talk to shop owners sometimes. The things I’d see you pin on your Pinterest boards. The way you’d look around a space. How you started to decorate your rooms. I just…it just made sense.”
I could hardly breathe. A thousand tiny moments that anyone wouldn’t notice and Darius did. But not only notice, he pieced together what they meant. The air thickened between us, full of so many unanswered questions and unspoken wishes. I wanted to poke it, see what rose to the surface, see if I could get him to reveal something. All these years and, while Darius had found my secrets, I had uncovered so few of his.
“What about you?” I asked, my voice too breathy in my ears. “If you didn’t have to do this, what would you want?”
He looked down at his hands, brow furrowing. I knew from him clutching me against that truck, that his hands were calloused, hardened and huge. Was he thinking of all the times he’d used them to end someone’s life? Was he thinking about the truck?
“I…I would like a book shop,” he said after several long minutes. “Nothing fancy, someplace with a loft for reading and tall shelves.”
“And a back room where you could hide from customers,” I said with a chuckle.
He snorted.
“Definitely.”
“Maybe next to a coffee shop?”
His smile turned as wistful as I’d ever seen Darius be, and his eyes locked me in place when they met mine.
“Yeah, that could be nice.”
We stared at each other, the moment dragging between us until I couldn’t take it any longer and I cleared my throat.
“You’d be really good at that. You’ve read enough, that’s for sure.”
He shrugged, and it was the first time I’d ever seen him uncomfortable.
“It’s a nice dream but that’s all it is. I made my choices.”
The words sapped the simple joy that the conversation had conjured, and I wanted more than anything to make him see that he didn’t need to live this life if he didn’t want to. That there was more to him than he believed.
“If I survive this, I’ll get you that shop,” I said.
“You will survive,” he replied, and it didn’t escape me that he had ignored the last part of my statement.
“You sound as if it’s foregone conclusion.”
“It is.”
I shook my head and smirked.
“Because of you?”
“Yes,” he said bluntly.
I turned to him, all humor wiped off my face.
“Let me make something clear, Darius. If you ever put yourself in the line of fire for me like you did when I was taken, I’ll bring you back from the dead myself and kick your sexy ass. Clear?”
His smirk widened.
“You think my ass is sexy?”
“Indisputably.”
“My job is to be in the line of fire.”
“Not anymore. I’m not that same woman. And I’ve got some game, if you haven’t noticed. From now on, we’re a team, we’ve got each other’s backs.”
That wiped the smile off his face quick.
“That’s not—”
“You’re not my employee anymore.” My face flushed with a rush of anger. “You’re…you’re more important than that. So please, Darius, please let me stand beside you, not behind you. Not anymore.”
“I can’t,” he shook his head sharply.
“I know,” I whispered, his pain leaking out of my voice because I felt it too. “Baby steps. Trust me just a little, please?”
He let out a sharp breath through his nose and glared at me.
It was the ‘please’, it always got to him if I said it just right.
“Go to sleep, Nina.”
It was a victory, whether he admitted it or not.
I snuggled down under the covers and closed my eyes.
“Read to me?” I asked.
“You don’t even know the book.”
“It’s not about the book. It’s about your voice. It’s soothing.”
He didn’t say anything and I had my eyes closed, so I wasn’t sure what was going on. But then, his rumbling, low voice filtered to me as he read the book.
And in a few minutes, with the sound of his voice in my head to keep the nightmares away, I was drifting off.