Prologue #2
And if I didn’t notice him sitting beside me, who else might I have missed?
Her.
Shit. He won’t save me, then.
Fine. Fine. I’ll save myself. First, I need this mask off me. Need these tubes out of my veins and the morphine or whatever it is out of my system.
Pain would be better than this. Better than deluding myself that someone cares.
My fingers go to the crook of my arm, wrapping around the tube, about to pull it.
“Easy.” A warm hand covers mine. His face comes into view, his large body towering over me. “Don’t try to move.”
Beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep.
Help-help-help-help-help-help.
Get me out of here!
“If it’s the pain in your abdomen you’re worried about, the ultrasound came back clear.” A line forms between Alaric’s thick eyebrows as he watches me. “No internal bleeding. You only had a few lacerations and bruises.”
That’s great. Except I won’t stay alive for long unless I get away from her.
“You passed out from the shock,” he adds when my pulse won’t settle. Then he pats my hand once before pulling away. “In simple terms, your body hit its limit. That’s all.”
Where is she?
Help me.
Since the words won’t come out, I gather what courage I can and tear my gaze from his, scanning the room for Mom. A broken gasp rushes past my lips when I realize it’s just him, me, and the curtains shutting out the rest of the world.
She isn’t lurking by the end of the bed. Isn’t about to charm, bribe, or threaten Dr. Lockwood to give me up.
My head understands.
My pulse hasn’t caught up. With the monitor still beeping, my doctor frowns, then presses the stethoscope to my chest over my hospital gown.
Just as the beeping starts to steady, the rustle of the curtain at my side sends it racing all over again.
Not her. Not her. Not her. Not her.
A quick glance confirms it’s a woman in scrubs. That I’m, once again, safe. A shuddering breath fogs my oxygen mask, my attention returning to the person I trust the most. Him.
“Yes?” Dr. Lockwood quips, his expression serious.
“Her heart rate jumped. Is she in pain?”
He doesn’t answer, just keeps listening to my pulse with his gaze trained on the wall. It’s like he’s doing his best to make me feel at ease.
Strangely, it does the job.
Until he looks at me again, his gaze dragging over my face, my hair, while he snarls.
Heat gathers behind my eyes, a humiliating burn that makes me want the ground to swallow me whole.
I’m a wreck of a kid, barely able to move. With swollen eyes and a busted lip.
With Mom’s finger marks around my throat.
And then there’s the bald spot on my head. Mom tore out a chunk of my brown hair when I tried to escape. I don’t know why, out of everything, this is what hits the hardest, but it does.
“She’s awake and…” His voice snaps me out of the spiral. Any sign of anger has been wiped off his face. There’s no pity or disgust in it either. None. He’s simply…there. “Anxious, I believe. Is that it, Lilith? Anxiety? Blink once for yes, twice for no.”
I desperately want to blink twice. Want to open my mouth and tell him—just him—that it’s more than a simple case of anxiety. That I fear for my life. That he has to keep his word and save me from Mom.
Problem is, we have company. I don’t trust that nurse.
I don’t trust anyone but him.
So I blink once.
“That’s good.” A hint of warmth settles on his face.
“You know, we can take care of Miss Rayne here, in the ICU. You can go back to trauma, Doc.”
Please, don’t go. Please, don’t leave me alone with them. Please.
“She’s my patient.” His harsh tone has a tear rolling down my temple. “I’ll stay a while longer.”
“Okay, then. Hit the call button if you need me,” the nurse whispers. “Sleep tight, honey.”
The curtain slides closed.
We’re alone.
Alaric and I.
His eyes cut to the monitor as the beeping slows.
He nods to himself before meeting my gaze. “I’m going to remove the mask, okay?”
One blink.
Once I’m mask-free, Alaric stares at me for a long beat. While he does, he cracks his knuckles almost angrily.
“Where’s Mom?” I croak. I have to know. Have to plan ahead.
“Your mother…”
Then—oh, shit. He’s turning to the side.
Is he about to call her?
Did she get to him? Did she threaten him too?
Did she force him to keep the injuries out of my records?
No. No.
No.
The all-consuming panic subsides, just barely, when instead of getting Mom, he grabs a cup of ice chips from the table by my bed and offers it to me.
“Take one.”
Still, this one act of kindness doesn’t mean I’m out of the woods.
“Where is she?” Since my throat is dry, I do as I’m told. “You have to tell me,” I add, then pop the ice chip into my mouth.
“Your mom’s been taken into custody.” His free hand balls into a fist at his side. His attention flicks obsessively between my face and the machines. “She won’t come anywhere near you. Not anytime soon.”
He ends the sentence with a growl. Doesn’t say anything more.
But as dreamy as it sounds, it can’t be real.
I wait for the ice chip to melt, for the cool water to wet my throat.
Preparing for a crushing disappointment, I say, “At some point, they’ll let her out.”
“There’s a protective order in place.” As if Alaric is that protective order personified, he squares his shoulders, standing taller. “She’s not allowed to see you or contact you.”
“She has people.” My body sags deeper into the bed. A cloud of despair descends over me as I realize I was way too optimistic earlier. Though my doctor is huge, easily over six-four, he’s no match for Mom’s clients. “One of them will come for me.”
“No one’s coming anywhere near you.” A vein bulges in his throat. His feet remain planted in place. “Security’s been notified. You’re safe here.”
I almost cry with relief, except… “What happens when I’m back home?”
“You won’t be discharged so fast.” A strand of dark hair falls over his forehead, and he’s quick to push it back.
My lips tremble. Teeth clicking. “Eventually, I will.”
“You won’t be returning to that place.” One sharp shake of his head. “A social worker stopped by while you were out. Because you’re a minor, they’re arranging a foster placement. It’s supposed to be temporary, but…”
He pauses, his gaze drifting inward for a brief second before returning to me.
“But what?”
“With the photos, the charts, and my testimony, there’s more than enough evidence to lock her up for years.”
“Oh.” Fuck me, these new tears. There are so many of them. They’re unstoppable, streaking my cheeks. My temples. The salt stings my swollen eyes. “Oh.”
His teeth grind hard enough that I hear it over my sobs. Staying efficient, he grabs a tissue and carefully pats my soaked cheeks.
“It’s been going on for a while, hasn’t it?” Once done, he crushes the tissue in his palm, his knuckles turning white. “It just never got bad enough to land you in the hospital.”
Emotion clogs my throat. He’s the first person who’s ever asked me that. “How did you know?”
“Your medical files are clear.” Before he finishes the sentence, his pager goes off. “But your scans showed healed fractures. I saw a dental implant too.”
He scowls as he grabs the pager, making my teeth chatter in fear. “D-do you have to go?”
“Soon.” His focus returns to me as he clips the pager back onto his waistband. He taps the tip of his nose, probably indicating the bump on mine. “That was her too, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, and, um…” My chest hitches as I try to silence another sob. “You checked on me?”
You really, really care?
“I always do with domestic violence cases.” His pager goes off again. “Especially with kids and the elderly.”
The pager won’t stop beeping now.
“I’m sorry. I have to go.” And yet he still takes the time to offer me the ice chip cup a second time.
I snatch one greedily. “Will you be back?”
“I won’t. But don’t worry. The nurses and hospital security will make sure you’re safe.”
Beep, beep, beep.
“Thank you.” I don’t want him to leave, but I’m not the only one in Manhattan who needs him tonight. “For saving me.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” He scoffs as if I’ve offended him. “You’re alive. That’s all that matters.”
With that, Alaric turns around. The curtain opens and closes when he leaves me alone.
Alone, but not scared.
He promised nothing would happen to me, and I trust him.