Chapter 44
The pain came in waves, each surge more intense than the last. Even with the medication dulling the worst of it, every movement sent fire lancing across my back. But I couldn't stay in this bed, not with Ryder falling apart and Charlotte potentially in danger.
"Are you sure about this?" Luce asked, her face pinched with worry as she helped me sit up. The room spun for a moment, and I gripped the edge of the mattress, waiting for my vision to clear.
"No," I admitted. "But I can't just lie here while..." I trailed off, not sure how to explain the tangle of emotions in my chest. Hatred and love and fear and guilt, all twisted together until I couldn't tell where one ended, and another began.
"You don't owe them anything," Luce said fiercely. "Not after what they did to you." I met her eyes, seeing the protective fury there.
"I know. But I have to do this. For Charlotte. For..." For Ryder. But I couldn't say his name, couldn't admit that despite everything, I still cared.
Luce sighed but helped me stand, supporting my weight as I found my balance. The hospital gown gaped open at the back, exposing my bandages, and Luce quickly draped a robe over my shoulders.
"Careful," she murmured as I winced. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea."
"It's not," I agreed, but took a shaky step forward, anyway.
"But I'm doing it." The journey through the hospital corridors felt endless.
Each step was agony, the bandages pulling at my raw skin, the medication not quite enough to dull the pain.
Luce kept her arm around my waist, bearing as much of my weight as she could, but by the time we reached the elevator, I was sweating and dizzy.
"We can go back," Luce offered as the doors closed. I shook my head, leaning against the wall for support.
"No. I need to see him."
The secure wing was on the top floor, separated from the rest of the hospital by a set of heavy double doors with a security desk. As we approached, a stern-faced nurse looked up from her computer, her expression hardening as she took in my hospital gown and Luce's supporting arm.
"Can I help you?" she asked, though her tone suggested the opposite.
"I'm here to see Ryder Purcell," I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the pain. The nurse's eyebrows rose.
"Mr Purcell isn't accepting visitors outside of approved medical personnel and immediate family."
"I need to see him," I insisted. "It's important."
"I'm sorry, but rules are rules. Especially in the secure wing." She turned back to her computer, dismissing us. I felt a flare of anger, hot and bright against the constant ache in my back.
"Call James Killingham," I said, my voice sharper than I intended. "Tell him Cadence Turner needs to see Ryder Purcell." The nurse looked up, surprise flashing across her face.
"Mr Killingham? The High L-?" She cut off sharply, but I knew what she was going to say. It also confirmed my suspicion that this wasn’t just a private facility, but a Trivium run one.
"Yes," I said, not elaborating. Let her wonder about my connection to one of the most powerful men in the Trivium.
She hesitated, then picked up the phone, speaking in low tones. I couldn't make out her words, but after a moment, she handed the receiver to me.
"Miss Turner," Killingham's smooth voice came through the line. "I understand you're requesting access to Mr Purcell?"
"Yes," I said simply. There was a pause.
"Are you certain that's wise, given your current condition?"
"No," I admitted. "But I need to see him, anyway." Another pause, longer this time.
"Very well. I'll authorise it. But only you, Miss Turner. And only if you're sure this is what you want."
"It is," I said, though I wasn't sure at all.
"Then I'll inform the staff. Take care, Miss Turner." I handed the phone back to the nurse. She listened to someone on the other end, then nodded, her expression still sceptical before putting down the phone.
"You've been cleared," she said, sounding surprised. "But only you, not your friend." I turned to Luce, who was watching me with concern.
"I'll be okay," I promised. "Wait here?"
"Are you sure?" she asked, glancing nervously at the secure wing doors. "I don't like the idea of you going in there alone."
"I won't be long," I said, squeezing her hand. "And I... I need to do this by myself." Luce nodded reluctantly, helping me to a chair near the security desk.
"I'll be right here if you need me."
The nurse buzzed me through, and I stepped into a stark, fluorescent-lit corridor.
The air felt different here, heavier, charged with an undercurrent of desperation and restraint.
My heart pounded as I followed the nurse down the hall, past closed doors with small windows, glimpses of shadowed figures within.
The silence was punctuated only by the soft squeak of the nurse's shoes and the occasional muffled sound from behind the doors.
We reached another set of doors, these leading to a small waiting area. The nurse swiped her keycard, and the doors slid open to reveal Cole and Logan, both sitting rigidly on uncomfortable-looking chairs. They jumped to their feet as I entered, their faces a mirror of shock and guilt.
"Cadence," Logan started, taking a step toward me. "I didn't think you'd-"
I held up my hand, stopping him mid-sentence. The sight of him sent a wave of complicated emotions through me: rage, betrayal, and beneath it all, a stubborn ache of something I refused to name.
"I can't," I said, my voice tight. "I can't deal with you right now." Cole stood slightly behind Logan, his mismatched eyes haunted.
"We understand," he said quietly. "We just want you to know-"
"Not now," I cut him off, unable to bear whatever apology or explanation he was about to offer. "I'm here for Ryder. That's it." Logan's jaw tightened, but he nodded.
"Aaron's on his way," he said, his voice low and urgent. "To 'sort out the mess,' as he put it. He'll be here within the hour." The news sent a chill through me. I remembered Aaron Purcell's cold eyes at the Alumni Dinner..
"What will he do?"
"Nothing good," Logan said grimly. "For Ryder or anyone else." I nodded, absorbing this but not responding. The nurse was waiting by another door, watching our exchange with barely concealed curiosity.
"This way, Miss Turner," she said. "Mr Purcell is in isolation." I followed her through the door, leaving Logan and Cole behind. The corridor beyond was quieter, with only three doors, each with a small window and a guard stationed outside. We stopped at the farthest door.
"He's been... difficult," the nurse said, her professional demeanour slipping to reveal genuine concern. "We've had to restrain him for his own safety. He keeps trying to hurt himself."
My stomach twisted.
"I understand."
"I'll be right outside if you need anything," she said, ”And there is an emergency call button should you need it.” She swiped her card and pushed the door open.
The sound hit me first, raw, animal screaming, a voice stripped of everything but pain.
Ryder's voice was unrecognisable in its agony.
I stepped into the room, and the screaming stopped abruptly, cut off mid-howl as Ryder saw me.
He was strapped to a hospital bed, thick leather restraints around his wrists and ankles.
His face was gaunt, his eyes wild and bloodshot, tear tracks staining his cheeks.
A bruise darkened one side of his face, and there were scratch marks on his arms, self-inflicted wounds stark against his skin.
"Cade?" he whispered, his voice cracked and disbelieving.
"Is that really you?" I stood just inside the doorway, suddenly unsure.
What was I doing here? This man had helped torture me, had held me down while the brand seared my flesh.
He'd betrayed me in the most fundamental way possible.
And yet, seeing him like this, broken and desperate, something in my chest twisted painfully.
"It's me," I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
"You came," he said, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. "I didn't think you would. I didn't think you'd ever want to see me again." I took a step closer, then another, drawn forward despite myself.
"I heard you were in trouble." Ryder laughed, the sound harsh and broken.
"I'm always in trouble, Poison. But this time..." He tugged at the restraints. "This time I think I've finally fucked up beyond repair."
"They're talking about sending you to Lexington," I said, watching his face carefully.
The effect was immediate. All colour drained from his face, and he began to struggle against the restraints, panic replacing the momentary calm my presence had brought.
"No," he gasped. "No, they can't. Not Lexington. Not again. My father, he'll, I can't…" His words dissolved into incoherent pleas, his body arching against the restraints.
"Ryder," I said sharply, stepping closer to the bed. "Ryder, stop. You're going to hurt yourself." But he wasn’t listening or couldn’t hear me. I looked back at the door, seeing no one in the tiny window, and then reached out a hand onto Ryder’s arm. “Please stop, you’re hurting yourself,” I whispered.
He stilled at my voice, his chest heaving with ragged breaths.
"You don't understand," he said, his eyes wild. "If I go back there, if my father gets control again, it's not just me. It's my mother. It's... it's my sister." I frowned, confused.
"Your sister? Ryder, you don't have a sister." His eyes darted to the door, then back to me.
"I do," he whispered, his voice dropping so low I had to lean closer to hear him. “But it’s a secret. No one can know. No one. But I do.” He looked at me with wild eyes.
“Ryder, I don’t understand,” I whispered along with him.
“Luce," he hissed, and for a moment, I thought I'd misheard him.
"What?"