Chapter 7
Kael
“I’m not coming myself,” Zia said over the phone before I could barely get a hello out.
“What do you mean you’re not coming?”
“I don’t like what you’re doing, and I don’t want to be involved. But I’m sending someone I trust. Her name is Lena. She’s worked at a clinic in Miami with heavy detox cases. She’ll be there in an hour.”
She hung up without waiting for a reply.
I sneered at the blank screen and tried to drown out the sound of Bunny crying from upstairs.
She’d been up all night, begging and bargaining, offering me her body, her soul, anything if I would just make the pain stop.
I felt like the devil when she cried like that.
At this point, I was starting to wonder if I had underestimated exactly what I’d taken on.
I scrubbed my hands down my face and headed to the kitchen to prepare some soup. She hadn’t eaten in at least eight hours.
Exactly fifty-three minutes later, I heard a car pull into the driveway. I stopped what I was doing and met the woman at the door myself.
The woman who stepped out was tall and confident, with pale skin, sharp, cat-like eyes, and dark hair pulled into a sleek ponytail.
She carried a large medical bag like it weighed nothing.
Her fitted scrubs hugged her curves as she walked toward me, and the moment her gaze landed on me, her full lips curved into an appreciative smile.
“Well, hello,” she purred, looking me up and down openly.
She extended her hand. When I shook it, her grip lingered, her thumb brushing over my knuckles.
I narrowed my eyes. I’d had this reaction from many women before; it was easy to ignore. As long as she helped Bria, I didn't care.
“Kael,” I said curtly, already turning toward the stairs. “She’s upstairs. Let’s go.”
Lena followed, her heels clicking confidently on the hardwood. “You know, most men who call for private care like this are usually the ones who caused the problem. But you… you don’t seem like the type.”
I ignored the flirtation.
We reached the secure room. I unlocked the door and stepped inside first. Bria was curled on her side in the bed, trembling under the blanket, her skin slick with sweat. Her breathing was shallow and ragged.
Lena stepped in behind me, her playful demeanor shifting instantly into professional focus as she took in the scene.
“Jesus,” she murmured. “How long has she been like this?”
“Third day,” I said. “It’s getting worse.”
Lena moved to the bedside, setting her bag down and pulling on a pair of gloves. She checked Bria’s pulse, then gently lifted one eyelid to check her pupils.
“When did the addiction start?” she asked without looking up.
I hesitated. “I’m… not entirely sure. Her ex got her hooked.”
Lena glanced at me, one eyebrow raised. “You don’t know the timeline? How long has she been using heavily? Daily? What’s her usual amount? Any previous medical complications?”
I stayed silent. I didn’t have those answers, and Bria didn’t look capable of giving them.
Lena sighed softly but didn’t push. “Alright. I see Zia sent the equipment I needed, but she didn’t have any information either, so we’re flying a little blind here. I’ll assume heavy, long-term opioid use, and we’ll treat it as such.”
She worked efficiently, checking vitals, starting an IV with fluids, and administering medication for the nausea and seizures. While she worked, she explained everything in a calm, steady voice.
“Dehydration is the biggest immediate risk right now. Her fever is too high—we need to bring it down safely. If she seizes, we have to protect her airway. This isn’t ideal without proper monitoring equipment, but we can manage for now.”
She looked up at me, her eyes lingering on my face. “You’re very tense, Mr. Voss. When was the last time you slept?”
I ignored the question. “Will she make it through this anytime soon?”
“With proper care? Yes. But she needs real medical oversight. This kind of cold-turkey detox is brutal on the body.” Lena stood, peeling off her gloves. “I’ll stay on-site for the worst of it. Zia said your… guest’s mother approved this arrangement.”
I studied her for a moment. She sounded like she knew what she was doing. Confident.
“Fine,” I said. “You handle the medical side, but you follow my rules. No questions that don’t concern her immediate care. No contact with the outside world unless I approve it. And if she asks you for help leaving…”
Lena tilted her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “I’m a professional, Mr. Voss. I know how to stay in my lane.”
I gave her a cold look. “Good. Don’t forget it.”
I turned toward the bed. Bunny stirred weakly, her eyes fluttering open. They landed on Lena first, then on me. Fresh fear filled her gaze.
“Kael…” she rasped.
I moved to her side immediately, sitting on the edge of the mattress and brushing the damp hair from her forehead. “This is Lena,” I told her quietly. “She’s a nurse. She’s going to help you through the worst of it.”
Lena watched the exchange with a carefully neutral expression, but I caught the slight raise of her brow. An observation, then a conclusion.
“Interesting,” she murmured.
“What is?”
“Is she your girlfriend or your wife?”
“Neither, but she’s mine.” I stood, giving the nurse space to work. “Take care of her,” I said, my voice low.
Lena smiled, but there was something sneaky about it. “Understood, Mr. Voss.”
I left the room to give them space.