Nine
Ara
One minute, Leo is about to pull down my pants, and the next his weight disappears. The sudden loss of his grip drops me to my feet and a sharp pain shoots from my ankle and hip, and I cry out. My vision is still blurry as my glasses were knocked away when he slapped me.
Someone gently pushes my glasses on my face as the grogginess starts to fade. One side of the lens is broken, but I can still see.
As if the shadows conjured him, they part slowly to give way to a massive back. I don’t have to guess far to know who he is. I have only seen one man with a presence and stature like him. Leo’s head is in his massive paws as he pummels it to the wall with a force that seems to shake it.
A gentle but firm grip on my hand has me jumping away in fear. That causes me to slip and the pain in my ankle intensifies and I cry out.
Why does my throat burn?
I turn to see Eero and he is fast to hold me upright so that I don’t put pressure on my injured ankle, but I still cry. I don’t remember what he did to my ankle. How did I not notice it? Did he break it? Will I be able to walk?
“Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Her.”
I shudder at the voice that comes from Devlin, the rage turning it more gravelly and dangerous. Leo is still in his grip, blood oozing from his nose and the side of his head.
“I think he hurt her ankle and hip too?”
Eero looks at me in confirmation and I nod. In a second, Devlin appears at his side, his intense gaze roaming over me. A vein pulses on the side of his neck and a muscle ticks wildly in his jaw. His nostrils flare and his eyes are dark, almost turning black in rage. It ripples from him in waves and breaks his stoic face.
And for some reason, that breaks me. And I launch myself at him.
I think Eero tells him where I’m hurt, the words don’t register in the relief that finally sinks in. I cry into his shirt. His hands come over me after a second, holding me gently, but tight. I don’t fail to notice that he holds me in a way so that there is no pressure on my ankle. Why does it feel protective here? His hands cover me whole, hiding me from everyone and maybe they can hide me from my demons too.
I cry into his chest like I never did. I cry in fear, imagining what could have happened. I cry in pain which is becoming more evident with every passing minute as the adrenaline vanishes. I cry in relief, unable to find words to thank him for showing up. But most of all, I cry for the girl who had no one to save her from actual monsters. I cry in frustration, asking god why he couldn’t have sent a Devlin when I needed him the most.
Relief mixed with fear is a dangerous combination as I puke out everything. I talk and talk despite my throat hurting more than my hip. I have no idea what I thought that would achieve, but I recite everything that happened. Starting from the smelly restroom to the point where I wished to be dead rather than go through what Leo wanted to do.
Devlin’s grip tightened at those words and I think I hear a small growl from him. He holds me until I dry out my tears. I don’t notice until several minutes that I’m clinging onto him like a koala. My nails are digging into his forearms, drawing blood and he doesn’t even make a peep about it.
“I’m so sorry,” a hoarse cry comes out, looking at his hand.
I try to remove myself from him so that I can check the damage I’ve done to my saviour. But Devlin’s grip doesn’t relent around me.
I crane my neck to look up at him, tears still cascading down my cheeks. His hand raises and the flinch it evokes is involuntary. He grits his teeth at the action and lets me see his hand. He moves slowly, so slow that if I want to, I can turn his touch away.
For some asinine reason, I don’t.
His calloused hand holds the injured cheek so gently as if he is afraid to mar it. Even the slightest touch stings, but I bite down the pain. I do not doubt that Leo must have left a mark there.
Devlin’s nostrils flare again. He thumbs my bottom lip where Leo bit and I can’t help the wince even at his soft touch. I don’t let him go even if his growl scares me.
His eyes roam all over, noting every single thing. I didn’t notice that he was holding my hand that went to grab his forearm. He brings it under his chin for closer inspection, looking at the black and blue bruises forming around my skin. I even see scrapes on my fingers and hands bleeding.
His eyes snap lower and something shifts in his eyes. Something very dangerous slithers into them, something so dark that turns him from a man to the devil in an instant. I follow his gaze and notice the opened button of my jeans and the waistband of my panty peeking.
A whimper leaves my mouth and I turn away from him. I am thankful that he hides me from Eero and Leo who are behind him while I button my jeans, a feeling of disgust settling inside me. I feel filthy. I feel gross. I want to peel away my skin, I want to scratch it raw until I stop feeling his hands on me.
He walks to stand in front of me and his hand gently tips my chin to make me look at his face. In here, surrounded by shadows, with a look that promises mayhem and with those dangerously alluring scars, he looks otherworldly. A ruler of hell.
“He will pay,” he promises, his voice settling over my frayed nerves like a blanket of calm.
He regards me with an unsettling intensity, a strange light in his eyes. He brushes something from my cheek and nods at someone.
Eero takes his place instantly, his eyes that I know to be unhinged now looking angry and concerned—on my behalf. He lets me rest my weight on him and brings out a tissue for me to gently wipe the blood on the corner of my lip.
I see Devlin grit his teeth looking at where Eero holds me. Before I can understand his reaction, he turns his wrath on Leo who is being held on his knees by Nico.
When did he arrive? How did I not notice him? He doesn’t meet my eyes but twists Leo’s hand with a grip so strong that has the man slapping his hands on the ground in pain. He doesn’t look as strong and mighty as he did before. He looks laughably weak in front of Zagan Devlin who kicks him right in his face.
I hear a resounding crack of his nose and turn away.
“You okay, sweetheart?” Eero asks.
I nod in answer, my throat hurting to even make a sound. Why? Did something happen to my vocal cords? God, I hope not.
Leo tries to say something, but he doesn’t get a chance. One by one, I hear the crunching of bones and wince every time that snap reaches my ears followed by Leo’s howls of pain. Devlin doesn’t take a lot of time. He breaks everything that there is to break I suppose because the number of snaps I’ve heard is more than the number of bones in a human body.
He does it quickly and with the way Leo begs, he’s also delivering pain. He starts by begging Devlin to let him go, the same as I did. By the time it ends, I hear him begging to kill him.
I hear someone cut something and a gurgling sound that has me widening my eyes in horror. What happened? I turn to see, but Eero shakes his head at me.
“You wouldn’t want to see this, love,” he says softly and I trust him.
I stand there for more minutes, feeling the strength slowly leave my system. The hits on my head are catching up. I hope there shouldn’t be any concussion and I hope that my ankle isn’t broken. The pain in my hip flares, not allowing me to move. Everything feels groggy and the sudden onslaught of dizziness surprises me.
“Zagan,” the name leaves my mouth with a breath as I lose my footing.
I don’t touch the ground though.
Bands of steel circle me and carry me in their strong grip. I fight with dizziness, the fear still not leaving my system. I see Devlin’s furious face as he looks down at me.
“I…Ivy,” I croak.
“I’ll get her,” I hear Nico’s gruff voice announce somewhere.
He hurries ahead of us, jogging a second later towards the light that seems too bright now. My eyes travel to Zagan’s hand, the same hand that I shot that night. Now I’ve scratched his skin. I’ve hurt the man who saved me.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” I whisper.
“Nothing I cannot handle, little siren,”
I think I smile at the nickname.
“That’s a cute…name…” I say groggily.
I think I’m losing the fight. The blackness slowly creeps forward. I fight my eyes from drooping, he sees it.
“I’ve got you,”
“Promise?”
His stormy grey clouds look down at me, swirls of hurricanes moving inside those depths as he fixes me with the same intense look I cannot put my finger on.
“I promise.”
I let the darkness finally claim me.
* * *
I wake up to the constant beeps of machines, an unmistakable indication that I’m lying in a hospital bed. I try to swallow down the disappointment that I have to wake up. I think, for a second before I lost consciousness, I wished never to wake up.
I wouldn’t have to fight the battles with my demons every day while keeping up the ruse that I’m not a broken, paranoid freak. I don’t commit the mistake of forcing my eyes open. I’ve learnt my lesson last time. The bloody migraine didn’t leave for weeks.
I let the consciousness settle and my eyes relax as I listen. I can smell the distinguished scent of lavender that belongs to my sister.
When did she come? It takes at least a day for her to travel from Pertmoor. Was I out for a day or more? The panic has me forcing my eyes open and a dull ache in my head has me groaning slightly. My throat burns in something beyond pain.
“Oh thank god, you’re awake,”
I turn to my right to see Ivy straightening from her previous position on a stool. Iyra clicks a button from the other side, to help me sit. Once I’m settled and Iyra gives me my glasses, I see them both properly. The guilt is immediate when I see their haggard-looking faces.
Ivy has dark circles under her eyes and Iyra’s golden skin has lost all its glow. Both of them look tired and have red-rimmed eyes as if they have been crying.
I start to open my mouth but Iyra shakes her head at me.
“Doctor suggested not to talk for a while,”
“That’s going to be tough,” Ivy scoffs jokingly but ends up crying.
I turn to her, gently clutching her hand. Bandages cover some scrapes, while others, though bare, show signs of treatment. Iyra walks in with a small bucket of ice chips, and Ivy adjusts the pillows behind me.
As Iyra helps me take a chip, the door opens. A doctor, likely around my age, steps inside. His warm eyes meet mine, and his calm smile feels unexpectedly soothing.
“Hello, Ms Sinclair, I’m Dr Sean Llyod and your assigned doctor,” he introduces as he walks closer.
He checks his writing-pad and taps something on it before giving me his full attention.
“You have a concussion, one hairline fracture in your right ankle and a ligament strain in your right hip. Due to excessive screaming, you seem to have strained your vocal cords,”
Panic seizes my heart, making me think worse. Did I lose my voice?
“Thankfully, there wasn’t any severe damage apart from inflammation and soreness.”
I deflate in relief.
“Even if the injuries aren’t excessive, I would strictly advise you to rest for at least 6 weeks. And not to talk for at least two or three days. You can whisper if it is an emergency depending on your pain. As the inflammation comes down, you will be able to use your voice properly, but my suggestion for you would be not to strain it,”
I nod at the kind doctor who smiles when I do.
“I’ll be back to check on you,”
He pauses in the doorway, his face clouded with unease. Whatever question lingers on his mind, I sense it won’t be pleasant—or something I want to hear. My grip tightens on Iyra’s hand, and thankfully, she understands.
“We will let you know if anything comes up, Dr Lloyd,” her tone leaves no room for discussion.
The doctor nods in understanding and leaves. I release a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding and sink back into the pillows. Turning to Ivy, I silently question how long I was unconscious. She reads me instantly.
“Relax. You were only out for two days. Scared me half to death, bitch,” she mumbles and I grin.
I appreciate that she doesn’t tiptoe around me, even now. She might not realise it, but it helps more than she could ever know. It reassures me that I can count on her—that no matter what happens, she’ll always see me as me, not as some broken, pitiful shell of a woman.
“Now that she is awake, you should wash up,” Iyra suggests as she looks at Ivy.
Ivy nods, sniffing, her cheeks and nose flushed from crying. Guilt gnaws at me for making her worry. She looks pale and exhausted. I can only imagine what she endured these past two days. If it had been her, I’d have lost my mind.
“I’ll bring you those finger sandwiches you love,” she kisses my cheek before she leaves.
I’m left alone with my sister who looks as if she has aged a lot in just a day. I frown when I notice that she has lost a considerable amount of weight and that couldn’t have happened in just a day.
“No,” she shakes her head at me, a slight snip in her voice as she narrows her eyes my way.
“You don’t get to look at me like that. I will be the one scolding and you better shut up and listen.” She warns.
She might not know it, but despite her short stature, Iyra can look scary when she is angry. Like now.
“Do you have any idea how worried I was when I received the phone call from a heavily distraught Ivy?” she starts while she paces the area in front of my bed.
“She said that she couldn’t find you and couldn’t reach you on your phone. She was crying, losing her head that you’ve been missing in a questionable place for more than an hour!”
I hang my head, understanding how much Ivy would’ve panicking.
“Can you imagine how I felt? It was like reliving the past all over again! I nearly lost my mind thinking he had come back.”
She doesn’t know everything about Vir or what happened in the forests. But she knows I was kidnapped, tortured, and somehow escaped. I had to give her partial truths when planning our escape. Now, tears glisten in her furious brown eyes as she hurriedly wipes them away.
“I thought we were past this curiosity bullshit, Ara. The days where you drove yourself and everyone around you mad for the questions you need answers to!”
They are, I want to yell. But I cannot talk with the sting in my throat. So I shove some ice chips into my mouth and look around for my phone or paper. Iyra gives me her phone and I type quickly.
I wasn’t out there exploring those darn caves. I lost my way while coming back from the loo and ended up in a corridor where that lunatic was!!
She looks down at the screen with a frown.
“You lost your way? I don’t believe that!” she squints her eyes, trying to see if I’m lying.
I swear.
Something in my expression must convince her because she sinks into the chair beside the bed, shaking her head with a heavy sigh.
“You cannot seem to catch a break,”
I roll my eyes and type.
Tell me about it.
A smile cracks on her face and that has me smiling as well.
You don’t look so well, Iyra. Is there something bothering you?
She looks down at the phone and shakes her head.
“The business’s been tough. With the relocating and having demanding clients, it does take a toll on you.”
The guilt of everything I made her do settles in, making me want to kill myself more and more.
I’m sorry I made you come all the way here when you’re busy.
“Shut up, Ara. I get to take care of you too. You don’t have to do everything by yourself just because you are the elder one,” she rolls her eyes.
She doesn’t get it.
I made her uproot her life in a place she loved. I made her leave the boy she cared for and the freedom to live her life as she wished. I thrust her into a world where she can never step into the limelight, despite her talent as a patissier. In a time when anyone can showcase even the smallest skill online, I forced my sister into hiding, suppressing her talent so she wouldn’t be seen.
I took everything from her because I couldn’t let go. I’m her big sister, and I just wish I had done better.
We sit in silence for a few minutes before Iyra glances at me, suspicion in her eyes. I raise a brow in question. She leans back in her chair, stretches her legs across the bed, and rests her fist on her hand, giving me her full attention.
“So, I saw the man who saved you,”
It takes a minute for me to recall who she is talking about. But once I do, my mouth goes to form an ‘O’ but no sound comes out from my throat. I shove some ice chips just so that I would have something else to do than look at her.
“He is as…interesting as the company surrounding him,”
I shrug, trying to be nonchalant.
“Ivy said that he nearly bit the head off of a male nurse who tried to take you from his hands,”
I don’t like the small smirk on her face. I shrug again even if my insides are a mess. Is she talking about him? His face was the last thing I saw but it could have easily been Eero. I don’t think someone like Mr Devlin would have enough free time to waste it on me.
“He seems well acquainted with you,” Iyra probes and I shake my head as a no.
Although he saved me and I cried in his hands for an embarrassing amount of time and ruined his shirt, he is a stalker and still is a stranger. A dangerous one at that. No amount of attraction or insides turning into a puddle of goo can change that.
“Since when do you cosy up with men like him?”
I turn to give her a slight glare at her judgemental tone. A triumphant smile plays on her face and I fall back on the pillows with a silent groan. I cannot believe I fell for the juvenile trick.
“Gotcha!” She laughs.
I groan silently again.
“You fancy him,”
I shake my head vigorously, denying her words. She seems amused when I try to throw the empty ice bucket her way but it gets lost somewhere in my blankets.
“I don’t have to tell you to stay away from men like him right?
The amusement vanishes from her eyes after a few seconds.
“Their world is much more dangerous than we can ever fathom, Ara,”
It is my time to turn suspicious. She talks as if she already knows it. So I grab her phone and type.
That tone suggests a familiarity. What are you not telling me?
“Crestford is the hub for the local crime boss and I hear stories that chill me to the bone.”
I nod even if the slightest bit of suspicion remains. Before I can ask her anything, the door to my room opens.