Chapter Thirty-Six
Caius
I think they forgot about me.
And that’s the most hope I’ve had since landing my ass in this bed.
I need them to slip up just a little. Then I can pounce on the opportunity and escape.
I’m regaining movement in my arms and legs. I wriggle my toes and flex my fingers, hoping to kickstart the ability to move all over.
Wherever I am, I know in my soul it’s a fucked-up place. It has all the markings of a hospital, but I know better. Sometimes the ugliest things are dressed up in the most beautiful packaging.
Leaving this place is my utmost priority.
Move your body, man.
It takes an incredible amount of strength and effort, but I manage to force myself into a sitting position. My head is woozy, but I’ll be damned if I let it keep me from getting the hell out of here.
The first thing I do is rip the tape off that’s holding the needle for my IV in place. Carefully, I pull it out and then press my thumb on the hole to apply pressure. I’m done getting drugged against my will.
Now you know how Romy felt all those times…
The thought of Romy right now sours my gut. I have no fucking idea where she’s gone or what they’ve done to her. I don’t even know who “they” are. All I know is she’s been taken from me.
Once I’m sure I won’t keep bleeding after removing pressure from the IV needle hole, I begin ripping off the leads stuck to my chest. I’m no longer on oxygen, but I do have more leads stuck to my head.
What the fuck?
Parts of my head have been shaved where the leads are. I don’t know what the hell they’ve been doing to me, but I don’t like it.
After detangling myself, I slide off the edge of the bed. Unfortunately, I miscalculate my ability to use my muscles and crash to the floor, knocking a water carafe off the bedside table. It hits the floor with a loud clatter and the lid flies off, sending water everywhere.
Seconds later, someone rushes into the room. It’s a different nurse than last time. With her hands on her hips, she frowns at me.
“Mr. Crowne,” she chides. “You are in no condition to get out of that bed.”
Rather than helping me, she slips back out the door. The gown I’m in has fallen off one shoulder, revealing my pectoral muscle. I get a view beneath the material, quickly learning I’m not wearing a stitch of clothes underneath.
I feel at such a disadvantage right now, trapped on the floor, barely clothed, and helpless to move.
I’m sure Romy’s felt this way before…
It’s not lost on me that this is some sort of payback for what I did to her. If her life wasn’t in peril, I’d allow myself to feel the pain of the punishment. I’m remorseful for what I’ve made her endure. She didn’t deserve any of it. My obsession to find Calista overshadowed any morals I may have had.
So what changed?
You’ve been like this for a long time, man.
She changed me.
Between the yacht after I killed Gareth and now, I somehow grew attached to the woman. She’s mine and I want her back.
Deep voices can be heard nearby and I know I’m fucked.
Sure enough, two men in white lab coats stride in, both rushing over to me. I grunt and attempt to fight against them, but I’m no match in my weakened state. It’s not until they’ve placed me back in bed and restrained me with straps do I even recognize them.
Two familiar men whom I don’t like.
Doc Junior and Dr. Portman.
“I want out of here,” I growl, pinning my glare on Doc Junior. “Now. You can’t keep me here.”
He shakes his head as if I’ve got it all wrong. “I’m afraid that statement is untrue, Caius. We, in fact, can keep you here. You’re what we call research property.”
What in the hell is he talking about?
Dr. Portman shakes his head. “You’ll have to forgive him. He’s lacking in bedside manner.”
Turning my attention to Dr. Portman, I snap at him, “I’m no one’s fucking property.”
“That’s not what the paperwork says,” Doc Junior chimes in. “It’s been on file for quite some time. You’d think you’d have worked to change that once you became an adult of consenting age. It’s been sitting dormant all along.”
My brain splinters at his words. “Bullshit.”
“Not bullshit,” Dr. Portman says, patting my shoulder. “Your father has conservatorship over you because of your past need for psychological care.”
I shake my head in vehemence. “You can’t do this.”
“We are,” Doc Junior says with a smugness that makes me want to wring his neck. “Your father is so worried about you. Extraordinary measures have been taken to aide in your rehabilitation. And, trust me, we’re going to mend your broken mind once and for all.”
Dr. Portman nods, smiling gently at me. “We’re your doctors, Caius. We’re here to help you, not hurt you.” He winks at me. “I’m your friend.”
Something about his words makes my skin crawl.
Doc Junior, like a wicked child with a helpless puppy in his hold, tightens the vise of reality. “You and Seth have history. He’s advocating for your mental health because of your friendship.”
Seth.
Seth.
Seth.
“Wait,” I grunt out, confusion muddling my mind. “You’re…You’re ‘S’?”
Dr. Portman scratches his reddish-brown beard and smiles sheepishly. “I knew you’d figure it out eventually.”
My mind feels as though someone is hacking it with a hatchet, trying to cleave it in half so all my deepest, darkest thoughts spill out for them to view.
“Your father wants to see you now that you’re awake and coherent,” Doc Junior says. “We’ll send him in and then we’ll be back to make sure you get your rest.”
I don’t want to rest.
I want out of this damn bed and away from these psychotic doctors.
The men leave me alone with my thoughts and frustrations. I try to get a good look at the restraints on my wrists but am unable to free myself. Dad walks in a few minutes later, witnessing me jerk and twist in my effort to escape.
“You’re going to hurt yourself, Son.”
I grit my teeth and force my body to relax. “Are you kidding me right now? I’m strapped to the bed. Whatever fucked-up stuff you’re allowing is hurting me.”
We share a weighted look. We’ve been here before. Back to the beginning of our relationship. When he adopted me and became my guardian. I’d accused him of much worse back then, but eventually understood it was in my best interest to get along with him and play his games so I could find Calista.
All these years—twelve long years—I’ve gone toe to toe with my father and the entire corrupt fleet of elites in an effort to get to my sister. It feels like it’s all been for nothing. I’ve lost my stronghold and am spinning out of control.
Dad pulls up a chair and sits beside my bed. He studies me with an intent, probing stare. “You were so close, Son. So close to getting what you wanted.”
Calista.
It’s what I’ve always wanted.
And he’s right. I was on the way to finding her until Romy showed up, wrecking everything.
“Your first misstep was your disloyalty to our family,” he states, frowning. “What you did…” He scrubs a palm over his face and shakes his head. “How could you and then lie to my face?”
I keep my expression even, refusing to give him anything.
“Gareth.” He pauses to let the name sink in. “I know you killed him.”
Guilt races in, chasing away my anger. Being in this weak position where I’m at my dad’s mercy, I’m reminded of being a teenage boy who’s in trouble. Not that I’m going to confess to it or anything. I still have a sliver of regret, though, because Gareth was a member of our fucked-up family.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” I bite out. “He got drunk and fell. End of story.”
Dad pulls out his phone, messes with it for a second, and then holds it up for me to see. A security video, strategically placed to show the balcony of my room on the yacht, reveals a man who is obviously me hauling Gareth’s massive form to the railing. I watch as I struggle to get him upright. Without any hesitation, I toss him overboard, only staring for a moment into the water below before turning back.
I should have known Solomon would have that place crawling with cameras. He’s a sick fuck, but he’s also smart. What else did he uncover? Romy hiding in his office? Gareth raping Romy?
“I know, deep down inside of you, there’s an aching soul, Son.” He turns the video off and pockets his phone. “Why can’t you just ask for what you want? Why not truly join this family instead of playing these games all alone inside your head? I had such hope in your mental recovery, Caius.”
“Right,” I hiss, spittle flying his way. “I’ve always been a soldier for your empire, never family.”
“Untrue,” he says, shaking his head. “I saved you from that facility. Brought you into my home. Gave you siblings, a home, a life. And yet you always kept me at a distance, never fully trusting me.”
“You knew how much I wanted to find her, but you wouldn’t just go get her,” I accuse, voice turning ragged. “You told me you’d teach me. It was a mindfuck from the get-go, Orion.”
He flinches at hearing his name rather than Dad. “You want the girl so badly? Ask me to give her to you.”
It’s a trick.
I know it is.
Which girl?
Calista? Romy? Kaitlyn?
“Give her back to me,” I grit out. “There. I said it.”
“Who?” He smirks, knowing he’s forcing my hand. “Who are you asking for?”
I know her name slipped out on numerous occasions. He knows I want my sister, but he’s not stupid. He knows I want Romy too. I’m tired of these games. They never end.
“Calista,” I growl, giving him the name he clearly wants. “And Romy.”
Based on his growing smile, I know I’ve played right into his hand.
“Son, you’ve created quite a conundrum here. One of those is choosing the Crownes and finally aligning yourself with your father.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “The other is, well, the enemy.”
Enemy?
When I’d seen Dad and Gideon together last, they were very much on the same team. Romy is the enemy to him because it means I’m making my own decisions and no longer playing by his rules.
“Romy is not the enemy,” I mutter. “She’s my fiancée.”
At this, Dad snorts. “We both know that’s a bullshit farce.”
“You’re fucking with my head. I’m sick of it.”
He pats my hand as though to comfort me. I don’t want him to touch me.
“The rest of your life, Son, depends on what happens when we leave this room.”
I close my eyes and think of Romy. Beautiful and fiery in spirit. My chest aches at the idea of having her in my arms again.
But then there’s Calista.
I’d watched with horror as she was taken away from me—to him.
Who?
My brain struggles for a moment, dancing on the precipice of something. I think of a picture I’d seen back in the hotel room.
I need Romy’s sharp mind to put these pieces together since my brain seems to be struggling.
“I’m going to ask something, Son, and it’s going to be quite revealing to us both. The answer decides your future and what your true desires are. There’s only one answer. Not two.”
Dread fills me. I want to throw up.
“Don’t,” I rasp out.
“I have to.” He sighs as though this pains him when it so obviously entertains him instead. “Who will it be, Caius? Calista or Romy? You may only choose one.”
Hatred for this man crashes to the surface. In what world must I be forced to choose between my sister and my lover?
My survival in life thus far has revolved around making the correct decisions.
No answer feels right to me now.
I think of my sister and her doll with the messy blue-painted nails.
Calista needs me more than Romy.
I’m sorry.
“I choose Calista.”
“Good boy.”