Chapter 30
Piper
I ’m fading in and out of consciousness. My thoughts are muggy and un clear.
All I can smell is the pungent scent of chemicals, like a mixture of antiseptic and something I can’t place. I try to move, but nothing’s happening.
My skin tingles, and my limbs feel heavy. Wrong. Like I’ve been rewired while I was sleeping. I try to open my eyes, but my lids are too laden with exhaustion to move. My eyebrows twitch as I focus on breathing.
Where am I?
As I realize I can’t answer that question, alarms vibrate under my skin, trying to rouse me.
But I’m too tired. A part of me doesn’t want to wake up.
Apart from the smell, I’m actually quite comfortable.
I’m warm, and the darkness calling me back with open arms is alluring.
I think I’m smiling as I move toward it, letting it engulf me again.
“Can you hear me, Toy?”
“Leave her alone,” someone snaps. A woman. “She’ll wake when she’s ready.”
There’s a low growl. “She fucking moved. I felt it.”
The darkness loosens its grip on me enough that I can hear the soft beeps of a machine. The sound is almost hypnotic. Like a song I’m meant to answer, but I don’t know how.
When I open my eyes, I’m met with a blinding white ceiling I don’t recognize, and I immediately try to sit up. But wires snag at my body, holding me in place like tentacles. Panic climbs up my throat, making it hard to breathe.
I call out, my voice raw and fractured.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
My skin prickles under the scratchy sheets. I squeeze my eye s shut, try to shut out everything. But it’s too much. My head throbs, and my limbs ache. I try to push up again, but the wires pull against me, and everything collapses.
“Easy, Little Toy.” Enzo. His voice is the only thing I can hold on to. It’s gravity. “I’m here.” His hand tightens around mine, anchoring me.
I look into his eyes… wait. I can see more than that. I can see his entire face.
Not sure if I’m imagining it or not, I blink against the blur. But as my vision clears, I still see him. With no blindfold or Halloween masks, this is the first time I get an unobstructed view of him.
His face is all sharp lines, cheekbones that could cut diamonds, lips I know to be soft and demanding. His jaw is clenched tight as though it’s the only thing keeping him from unraveling.
And those eyes… God, those piercing, cold and electric blue eyes. They keep me in place and strip me bare. My breath catches as I continue to stare. And he stares right back like I’ve finally caught up. Like he’s been waiting for this moment longer than I can understand.
“What’s happening?” My voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.
“You’re in my medical facility.” He speaks so evenly, like that explains everything. “You’re safe.” I want to believe him, and when I focus on his eyes, I do.
I push up again, desperate to feel in control. To feel anything but helpless. But my head spins, the world going black. When I open my eyes again, he’s closer. Leaning over me. He’s so close his nose brushes my cheek, and I can feel his breath against my skin.
“Shh.” He’s relentless. “You’ll be fine.” I want to believe him. I want to not feel so lost. But I can’t even remember getting here.
“Am I dead?” I ask.
He chuckles, but it sounds all wrong. “Try not to move,” he says, his hand finding my shoulder, holding me in place.
It feels solid, real. The wires slacken as I sink back against the bed.
The room tilts, and I close my eyes, just for a moment.
Just to shut out the brightness and the sharpness and the uncertainty.
When I open them, a woman is here. She moves quickly, efficiently. Checks the IV drip, checks the beeping machine, checks me. Her eyes are clear and unflinching, and I don’t know why, but it makes my skin feel tight.
“You must be feeling disoriented.” Unlike the room, her voice is warm and soothing. “But you’ll make a full recovery.” She doesn’t ask. She states. Enzo’s hand never leaves mine, not even as she examines me.
“Who are you?” The question takes too much effort. I’m too tired, too raw to care about the answer. “No, wait. I know you,” I croak.
“Yes, we’ve met before. I’m Dr. Voss.” She gives me a brief smile. “You’re lucky to have someone so devoted.” She nods toward Enzo, but he doesn’t react. His eyes are on me, searching, intense.
“What happened?” It’s a struggle to keep my eyes open, to focus on anything but the heaviness of my own body.
“You were drugged.” She checks the machine again, adjusts a setting I don’t understand. Her fingers are quick and mechanical. “I’ve flushed your system, so you’ll be fine. You’ll need rest, but as I said, you’ll make a full recovery.”
“Drugged… rest,” I repeat, the words sounding foreign, like something I’ve never heard before.
“I’m afraid so. Two weeks of complete bed rest should do it. And of course, I’ll want to do some follow-up tests.” She writes something on a chart, hands it to Enzo like he’s the only one who needs to see it.
“Of course,” I huff, not even bothering to hide my growing annoyance.
Dr. Voss presses her lips together in what looks like a tight line.
I have the feeling it’s to hide her smile.
At least if the spark in her eyes is anything to go by.
“We’ll be monitoring your progress closely.
But you’re in good hands with this one.” She pats Enzo’s shoulder, and even though Dr. Voss is old enough to be my mother, I’m not okay with her touching him.
The lights blur around me, and just as I think I might pass out again, I feel him. The weight of his stare. The weight of his hand.
“Piper.” God I love the way he says my name. He doesn’t need to raise his voice, doesn’t need to do anything but say my name. It roots me, pulls me back from the edge. “Tell the good doctor you understand. I need to get you the fuck out of here before I lose my mind.”
“Yes.” The word is a breath, a whisper. “I understand.” I don’t know if I mean it, but I know what he needs to hear. And maybe I need it, too.
“Good.” She nods once, crisp and precise. “I’ll make sure everything is ready so you can leave.” Then she walks out. I watch her leave, feeling the sound vibrate in my bones.
“Enzo.” It’s the only word I can find, the only one that matters.
He releases my hand only long enough to brush hair from my forehead, knuckles grazing my cheek. “I’m here.” He tucks a blanket around me, smooths it down, and I sink under the weight of it. Under the weight of him. The world narrows to his presence.
“Don’t leave.” The plea is ugly, too raw, but it’s out before I can stop it.
“Never.” He says it like a promise, like a threat.
I don’t bother asking him why I’m here, I already know he won’t answer me. Not until he deems it necessary for me to know. That should piss me off, right? Then again, denial has always been my best friend. Maybe that’s why I’m content lying here until we can leave.
When Dr. Voss returns, she finally disconnects me from the tangle of wires like she’s disarming a bomb. “Do you want your clothes back on before you leave?” she asks, gesturing at a bag with what I presum e to be my belongings.
“No,” Enzo answers for me. “We’ll be fine.” He takes the time to shake her hand, smirking when he notices the way I narrow my eyes whilst slowly pushing myself up.
My feet barely touch the floor before Enzo scoops me up, grabs the bag, and carries me out. Each step is making me nauseous, so I close my eyes, not opening them again until I feel fresh air on my face.
Breathing hurts when the ice cold air hits my lungs, but it’s a good hurt. I greedily inhale as deeply as possible, relishing the burn. It’s making me feel alive.
“Wait,” I insist when Enzo opens the car door.
He doesn’t ask why, doesn’t put me down, and doesn’t seem impatient while I have a weird ass moment with the fresh air. Reaching up, I cup his cheek, running my fingers across the stubbled skin, all the way down to his lips. Damn, he looks really kissable right now.
Instead of taking advantage of seeing him for the first time, I sigh. “Okay, I’m ready to go.”
He gently sets me down in the car. Then he slides in next to me, wrapping his arm around my body while telling the driver to go. I’m too tired to ask where we’re going or who’s driving. I just want to go back to sleep.
I must have dozed off because the next thing I know, Enzo’s nudging me awake. “We’re here,” he announces softly.
He carries me into the building Teddy owns, refusing to let me walk. “You can put me down,” I protest.
“I could.” The corners of his lips lift, and he smiles. Damn, seeing his smile is something. “But I won’t,” he continues.
“I feel silly,” I grumble as he unlocks my front door and carries me inside the apartment. If I’m honest, I’m not sure my legs could carry me right now, so instead of arguing further, I press my lips together.
“You’re fucking beautiful.” He says it like a decree. Like it’s never been up for debate. No, he genuinely means it, and I hate that I believe him. That part of me preens under the weight of those words.
“Enzo, I—” He cuts me off with his mouth on my hair, a ghost of a kiss.
“You need to rest.” That’s not a suggestion, it’s an order. His grip is firm, unrelenting. “Or do you want a shower first?”
Ugh, now that he’s mentioned it, I definitely want a shower. “A shower would be nice. But I can walk by myself.” I stubbornly lift my chin, surprised when he lowers me to my feet.
“As you wish,” he smirks over his shoulder as he disappears into the bathroom, and I slowly trail after him.
God, why did I insist on walking? My legs are trembling, my balance shot to hell. I hate how weak I feel.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m by no means one of those girls who can run miles without breaking a sweat. But I can usually walk my ass around without feeling like I’m twenty-six going on eighty.
When I finally make it into the bathroom, Enzo’s already running a bath. Steam rises from the tub. I walk over and sit down on the edge, letting out a deep exhale as I do.
“Need help to undress?” he asks, his eyes glinting.
It’s only now I realize I’m wearing nothing but a hideous hospital gown. I still take him up on the offer. “Sure.”
To my surprise, Enzo doesn’t just untie the damn thing and rip it off me. He nudges my legs apart, kneeling between them. Then, with movements that are slow and measured, he unties it in the back. He moves as though he’s afraid I’ll break. Or maybe he’s afraid I’m already broken.
Now there’s a depressive thought.
Once I’m naked, I swing my feet into the tub and slowly lower myself into the scalding water. A gasp escapes me, and our eyes lock.
“Too hot?” he asks.
“No, it’s perfect,” I rasp. I’m about to tell him that I’m fine but the words dissipate on my tongue when he starts unbuttoning his shirt.
I don’t know why, but I expected him to leave me to bathe on my own. He doesn’t. He rids himself of all his clothes, unblinking as his penetrating blue eyes stay on mine. Then he slips into the water behind me. I feel the hard line of his body, the way he fits perfectly behind me.
He starts to wash me, taking his time. “Why?” The word spills out before I can stop it, unsteady and unsure.
“Because I want to.” His mouth is close to my ear, his breath hot against my neck.
A moan slips out from between my lips as he lathers shampoo into my hair. “That feels so good,” I admit.
I want to turn so I can study him, but his hands are insistent, pulling me back, and holding me in place.
“You don’t have to do this.” The words feel hollow. “I can wash myself.”
He dips my head back, the water rushing over my scalp, drowning out everything but the sound of my own heart. “I want to.”
His touch is gentle, but I can feel the intensity behind it. Sighing, I let myself sink back against his chest.
“You’re tired,” he says, the words a low rumble, the weight of his erection a constant against my spine.
“I’m not.” It’s a lie we both recognize. But he doesn’t call me on it. He just holds me there, skin on skin, until the water goes cold and the rest of the world falls away.
I don’t tell him that the reason I want to stay in the tub for as long as possible is that I’m scared what will happen once this bubble breaks. I’m not brave enough to demand answers. But I’m not blind either.
Something happened. Something I don’t want to remember—because the second I do, everything changes. And with that thought comes a lot of others. Like, where were we? A medical place, sure. But it wasn’t a hospital. At least not a public one.
Every thought brings more questions with it, questions I’m not sure I’m ready to have answered.
“Why are you taking care of me?” I ask, feeling like that’s a question I can handle the answer to.
Enzo tightens his hold on me. “Because you’re mine, Piper. Mine in ways you haven’t even begun to understand,” he rasps.
“For this year, sure. But that doesn’t answer my question,” I huff.
He bends down, biting the lobe of my ear until I yelp from the sting. “You’re not hearing me, Piper. You’re mine, and you have been since I first saw you.”
“At the interview,” I feel the need to clarify.
“It was before that. I saw you on your birthday when you were at the Carroway Café,” he corrects.
Stiffening, I demand. “Say that again.” Surely I didn’t hear him right.
“That’s when I saw you. You were sitting by yourself, and—”
“Stop!” I shout. Before I can process what I’m doing, I push myself out of the tub and reach for the plush towel on the heat rack. “Why would you say that?”