Chapter 29
YELENA
“She’s going to be okay, Lark.”
I swallow the heavy lump in my throat as I hear Wren’s mom dissolve into tears on the other end of the line.
“I—I’m so sorry,” I choke as my own tears start to roll hot down my face. “I’m so, so, sorry—”
“Oh, Yelena, honey,” Lark sobs. “You have nothing to apologize for. I just…” She chokes on another sob. “Fuck, I don’t know how we missed this after her breakup with that asshole!”
She starts to cry again. So do I, then I get it together enough to talk.
“She’s completely stable now. They pumped her stomach, and said her throwing up on the way here was actually a good thing. She’s got a saline drip going to rehydrate her, too.”
“Thank you for taking care of my baby,” Lark chokes. “Really, I…” She starts to cry again. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
I’ve known Wren’s mom and dad my whole life, and they’re like a second set of parents to me. So to hear Lark, who’s usually so composed and cheerful, going to pieces like this is jarring.
But understandable.
Wren could have died tonight.
That’s no exaggeration. The doctors here at Greenwich Hospital said her blood alcohol level was 0.34%. Considering that Wren is five foot three and a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet, and that a BAC of 0.40% could easily kill a grown man?
Yeah.
Tonight could have been…bad.
Except Achilles was there.
Achilles, who just appeared out of nowhere when I needed him the most, scooped her up, and ran to his car. He decided against the campus safety offices and even the walk-in clinic at Hawthorne Harbor and roared here to Greenwich Hospital at breakneck speed with her, me, Lucia, Galina and Ari.
I’m not the reason Wren’s alive.
He is.
There's a shuffle on the other end of the phone.
“Hey, Lena,” Bane, Wren’s father, growls into the phone, his voice weary and strained. “How are you doing?”
I start to cry.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he says tightly. “You got our girl to safety, and you’re okay too. Right?”
I nod, sniffling as tears roll down my face.
“Lark and I are on our way, and I’ve gotten in touch with Laz. He'll get there quicker.”
“Okay,” I choke.
“Lena?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Yeah?”
“Can you do me a favor? Tell whoever got my daughter to Greenwich at the speed of light that they have my eternal gratitude for saving her life. I fucking mean that.”
Fresh tears stream down my face.
“We’ll see you soon, Lena.”
When I hear him hang up, whatever control I was still clinging to vanishes. I drop to my knees, my phone clattering to the tile floor of the waiting room as I come apart.
Suddenly, big, warm, powerful arms go around me.
Achilles kneels on the floor in front of me and holds me.
Tells me quietly that it’s going to be okay.
That he’s there.
That I’m safe.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m sitting with my friends, all of us silent and stunned. Achilles is little ways down the hall, talking quietly on his phone. He looks up, and when he catches my eye, I can’t help but smile just a bit.
I know how wrong I was about tonight now. I know that his cousin, Eva, called him in a panic while drunk at that party, needing him to come rescue her.
I know how fucking stupid I was getting jealous of that. And I really know, seeing the fury in Achilles’ eyes when it came up, how dumb I was to allow Kirill to take that stupid picture of me.
Not because Achilles was mad at me. It was Kirill he wanted to dismember.
But because now that I think about it, Kirill was clearly up to something when he wanted me to sit on his lap and kiss him.
There was a plot somewhere under that, a Jude-level Machiavellian scheme.
In any case, Achilles and I are past it.
I think.
“Hey, kiddos.”
My head whips around, and I grin when I see a familiar face smiling at me.
“Laz!”
Lucia, Galina, and I all jump out of our seats and crash into him, hugging him tightly. He chuckles, wrapping his strong arms around us and squeezing hard.
When we pull back, we all fill him in on what’s going on. A little while later, Ari and Galina are dozing in the waiting room chairs, and Achilles and Lucia have gone off in search of coffee for everyone.
Laz sighs heavily as he sits back in his chair. He, like my dad, really has aged like fine wine.
Ridiculously fine wine.
His dark hair has a few flecks of silver at the temples now, and there are a few more lines on his face. But they’re the kind of age lines that men get that society has decided makes them look wiser and hotter.
I mean, they do, annoyingly unfair as that is.
He’s also, like my dad, in really good shape. Better, actually, which is wild considering he’s in his late forties.
“How's school?”
I give him a wry smile. “Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the show?”
He grins.
“Eh, it's fine,” I shrug.
He nods. “Does fine include the obnoxiously handsome motherfucker who drove you all here?”
I swallow and look anywhere but his face.
“I was going to ask which of you he’s got his eye on before I murdered him,” Laz growls. But…” He pointedly clears his throat. “I think we have our answer.”
My face twists as I turn back to him. “Laz—”
“I’m not gonna tell your dad, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he grunts.
A smile tugs at my lips. “You’re not?”
He barks a laugh. “Oh, not out of charity to you, my friend. But because much as I love Nero, he’s a fucking lunatic, and I happen to enjoy having my head attached to my body, thank you. And you know what they say about messengers and getting shot.”
I grin despite myself. Laz sighs and levels a look at me.
“Seriously, though, Lena, what the fuck are you doing with Achilles Drakos?”
I don’t know.
I just know that he’s the only one I wanted when I needed help.
“Is it’s complicated too cliche?”
“Painting too sordid a picture, more like,” he grunts, wrinkling his nose. “C’mon, kid. I don’t need that mental image.”
I roll my eyes. “I didn’t mean that!”
“Right, because ‘it’s complicated’ means so many other things besides ‘we’re having sex but don’t know how to define our relationship’,” he grunts.
I hang my head.
“You’re a grown up, Lena.” He frowns. “Well, pretty much. But you’re old enough to date, and have sex, and…Christ, let’s change the subject,” he mutters.
“We’re done with that one?” I laugh quietly.
He makes a face. “Yeah, it suddenly hit me that I really don’t need to have that conversation with you.”
I grin. “Thanks, I appreciate that.”
He frowns. “He's good to you, though?” His eyes narrow. “I mean, really. Because if he’s not, forget your dad, I’ll fucking kill him myself.”
I grin and nod. “He is.”
“Great.”
We’re silent for a minute.
“Wren isn’t going to have to leave school, is she?” I ask sadly.
Laz puffs out a breath. “I don’t know, kid. I don’t think anyone wants that, but…” His jaw tightens. “She needs help, Lena. Bryce, motherfucker that he is, did a number on her.” His eyes narrow. “Speaking of killing with my own bare hands…”
We sit in silence for a moment.
“How’s your divorce going?” I eventually ask.
“Ugh. Not moving fast enough,” he groans.
“I'm sorry,” I say quietly.
He glances at me and shakes his head. “Don't be. It never should have happened in the first place and I’m relieved to be moving on from it. But, look, with Wren…her parents will figure it out. She does need help, but I’m sure there’s a way for her to stay at Knightsblood.
” He clears his throat. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.
Your boyfriend or whatever you want to call him is glaring fucking death at me, and I can take a hint. ” He winks at me and I turn around.
Sure enough, Achilles is standing across the waiting room, leveling an arctic look at Laz.
“Hey, Lena, speaking as a guy?” Laz lowers his voice and leans close. “We don’t look at other guys the way that fucker is looking at me unless the girl in question is something quite a bit more than it’s complicated.”