Chapter Thirty
Parker.
“Sabrina, baby, she’s gone.”
Her shoulders slump forward just a bit more and begin to shake.
She’s the only one who’s stayed by her body after ordering the capos to bring her into the manor while Maksim is being checked out by one of the doctors Elena had on retainer.
Thankfully, none of our guys were seriously injured or killed.
Most of them have flesh wounds that Damon is helping with.
I take a seat beside Sabrina and put an arm around her waist, tugging her to me as close as I possibly can.
She hasn’t let go of Alice’s hand—or Raven’s—this entire time.
With the way she’s shaking, I don't know if either of us is the right person she needs to speak to, so what I am going to do… is let her feel everything she needs to feel. She leans into me, finally letting Alice’s hand go, pulling up the sheet we covered her with and placing her hand beneath it.
Raven places a kiss on her temple and stands, giving us a moment alone.
Sabrina sits back and shakes her head while wiping away her tears.
She tries to talk, but the words are too broken and her voice too hoarse.
“You don’t have to talk, baby, just feel everything you’re feeling and sit with it. But if you need me to grab Damon, just let me know.”
“I don’t even know what I’m feeling. I’m angry, frustrated, happy, and so…
so sad,” she sniffs. “I’m ecstatic I’m not there anymore, that I took Kane’s life, that Maksim is safe and with us, but my god, Parker…
I am furious it happened in the first place.
I am so angry with myself for not telling you I love you sooner—like it was this grand huge thing, when the reality is, I almost lost you and you never would have known.
I am so angry with myself for letting what Kane did to me almost cost me allowing myself to fall for Maksim.
And you. And I am so fucking sad that Alice died and I never got to know her.
I am so sad that I never… got to tell her thank you.
" She covers her face with her bloody hands. “And she didn’t get to see that she made it out.”
I rub circles on her back, then up and down her spine, feeling her relax just a bit more as she cries softly beside me. “Did you know you have the tendency to talk in your sleep, baby?”
She uses her sleeve to wipe her nose. “I do not.”
I chuckle, “You do. And you snore like the cutest little lawnmower when you’re super tired.”
“I DO NOT!” She glares at me, eyes like blades of seaglass rimmed red. Then her face softens. “Do I really?”
I nod with a smile on my face. “You really do. And I love it. You wanna know why?”
She blinks at me, waiting for me to continue.
“Because you’ve been telling me you love me in your sleep for years, Bri.
Even before what happened with Kane. I remember one night after a party I pulled some fuckhead you were dancing off of you because you were too drunk, and on the way home, you very confidently told me you were going to have my babies.
Granted it was right before you threw up in the car, but every time you told me some outrageous shit like that, I knew you meant it.
Even if you weren’t ready to tell me you love me to my face while you were sober or awake, every single one of your actions spoke volumes, baby.
“You protect with your heart because you protect your heart, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Would I have liked to have heard it sooner rather than on my deathbed? Yes. But you have made sure I felt cared for, loved, and treasured far longer than you probably think you have. You were worth waiting for, Sabrina.”
She lets out a wail and throws her arms around my neck, pulling me down to kiss her, but I stop her and open her little bloody hands. “You just rubbed these all over your face. How about we get in the shower, then I’ll draw you a bath?”
She inhales deeply with a hiccup. “Oh…kaayyy. Parker?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“How many did we save?”
I swallow. “Not enough.”
I give her a few minutes to collect herself, allowing her to turn back into the icy woman/mob wife they know her to be. Except she slips that mask on with a little more difficulty this time. After getting up, we pass Niko, who’s been waiting for us outside of the room. “Hey, Boss Lady.”
Sabrina stops in her tracks. “Yes?”
Niko’s chilly eyes look down at the ground, then flick back to Bri. “I don’t want to sound like an asshole, but what would you like us to do with… the body?”
My baby’s lips pout, but then her brow arches. “I see. Her name was Alice, Nikolai. Seeing as she was my father’s daughter, I believe she should be buried on the grounds. Just… not by Charlie. That’s my spot.”
He hikes a dark brow. “Who’s Charlie?”
“You’ll know who Charlie is when you see him,” I inform, which causes his gaze to shift slightly, not enough to make Sabrina notice too much, but just enough for me to be aware of it.
“Oh, and Niko?”
“Yeah, Boss Lady?”
“When we get back to New York once my husband is fit to travel, I’ll need you with me when I go have a little chat with my father.”
Niko grins real wide, showcasing every gleaming, white perfect tooth. “You got it, Mrs. G. Anything else you need from me?”
She nods her head. “Yes, let me know when she’s ready to be buried, please. Thank you, Nikolai.”
He does a little head nod like he’s bowing to the Duchess and retreats, calling out for a few of the men that worked the tech side of everything here and gets them to go with him to look for a good place to bury Alice.
We make our way past the other people standing around, waiting to be seen by the doctor.
It’s when we pass the study that Sabrina pauses briefly and I stop too.
Damon casually gets up from where he’s sitting, strides toward us, and with a curt nod and a flex of his jaw, closes the door on us.
But not before we see Maksim sitting on the couch opposite of his chair, face in his hands, hair wild, and falling over his fingers in greasy, inky strands.
Sabrina inhales sharply just as the click of the door sounds.
The small whimper gets caught in her throat, trapped there along with her sob.
I know how much she wants to run to him, but her shoulders straighten and her back stiffens just the same.
I grab onto her elbow, check the rest of the corridor for anyone lingering, then tug her.
Because I felt it, too. It’s small, but it is a divide.
I know the thought ruminating in her mind is that Maks chose to speak to Damon instead of her—his wife.
“C’mon, Bri, whatever he’s doing in there, I bet he’s doing his best to prove to Damon he’s fit to come home with us. ”
I feel the tremble in her body radiating just from her elbow alone, containing it.
Fuck. I really hope we’re not back to that.
I yank her to me to pull her out of whatever other thoughts or insecurities are running in that pretty head of hers.
The last thing she needs is for it to get muddied with a barrage of lies her mind wants to tell her.
I just really fucking hope I’m right.
After removing my soiled shirt, shoes, and socks, I undress Sabrina slowly, wishing I could wipe away the stream of steady tears flowing out of her that hasn’t stopped since I closed our bedroom door.
“What do you need from me, baby?” I pull her hair out of her ponytail as softly as I can, that mane of hers cascading like a glorious champagne waterfall over her shoulders and around her breasts.
She briefly shakes her head. “I don’t even know.”
“Fuck, Bri,” I hiss when I see the hives all over her body running from her mid-thigh up to her shoulders and out to her forearms. Some aren’t just red; they’re irritated, angry. And scabbed over, obviously having been clawed to hell. “Baby, this is bad. What happened to not breaking?”
She scoffs and more tears pour out of her, making me feel worse. “It was either scratch at them or break completely. This is how I contained it, Savage. This is how I coped.”
I’m a fucking asshole. “Okay, baby. Let’s get you in the shower, and then I’ll run you a bath, alright? Let’s get these situated and have them start healing before they get worse.”
I open the door to the stand-in shower I’ve turned on as soon as we get in the bathroom and test the water that’s at her preferred boiling temperature, then add more cold water to make sure it’s lukewarm.
I send out a text to Raven and let her know the items I need that I made sure Tildy had stocked in the fridge before the massacre took place.
I guide her inside, ignoring the soft groan when she turns around and the water hits the back of her head.
Through the steam rising, I can see her skin flushing a glorious pink shade already.
If we were home, if our husband were not sitting with a psychiatrist right now, if she had not just killed her rapist, if I had not just had to consistently remind myself I was in a different kind of warzone—the kind where I had to beg the demons on my back to stop writhing—I would ravage her, just like I did the day I woke up.
But as the blood and grime sliding off her beautiful body swirls and seeps down the drain, I know she’s not ready. Not right now. Besides, what she needs is Maks, then us, then me. In that order. She’s processing too much, and it’s all leaking out of her eyeballs.
The tiny knock comes through. I open the door to find Raven and Jonas there, holding two bags each of everything I had Tildy stock in the fridge.
Quarts of oat milk, cooled extra-strength calamine lotion.
I grab what I need and have Jonas take the rest back down with a thank you.
Raven lingers for a tad, brown eyes big and bug-eyed.
I sigh, “Just give me a few hours with her, okay Karma?”
She lifts her hands and signs I can help.