Chapter Thirty-Five
XADEN
Ken drives while I sit in the back, covered in soot and ash and the lingering smell of smoke. My hands are raw, blistered from the fire. Burns on my arms that I can't feel.
Can't feel anything except the terror still coursing through my veins.
She wasn't breathing.
The thought loops endlessly.
I found her, she wasn't breathing and I thought—I thought—
“Boss?” Ken's voice cuts through the fog. “We're here.”
I'm out of the vehicle before it fully stops, moving through the emergency entrance with Cas hobbling behind me on his crutch.
The hospital smells like antiseptic and death.
I hate it.
Hate everything about this place: the fluorescent lights, the beeping machines, the nurses moving through hallways like ghosts.
“Toren Kellar,” I tell the nurse at the desk. My voice sounds wrong. too rough, too desperate. “She was brought in about forty minutes ago. Smoke inhalation. Where is she?”
The nurse types on her computer. “Are you family?”
The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them. “I'm the father of her child.” Saying it out loud feels… I can’t even explain it. “Where. Is. She.”
Something in my tone or maybe my face, makes her decide not to argue.
“Room 304. Third floor. But sir, she's—”
I don't wait to hear the rest. I just move toward the elevators, Cas struggling to keep up. The ride up feels like it takes hours. When the doors finally open, I'm moving again, following signs until I find room 304.
The door is partially open.
I can see her through the gap.
Lying in the bed, so small, so still.
Oxygen mask over her face. IV in her arm. Monitors beeping steadily. Her eyes are closed. Not moving. Just like in the kitchen.
Terror claws at my throat.
I push the door open and step inside. Carnage is there, standing by the window. He turns when I enter, and his expression immediately shifts, something complicated passing through his eyes.
We just fought side by side.
He helped break me out of that facility. Coordinated the assault that saved my life. But now, looking at Toren in this bed, all that camaraderie evaporates because I know he wants her and he hates me for having her.
“How is she?” I ask, moving toward the bed.
“Alive,” Carnage says, his voice carefully neutral. “Breathing on her own now. They had to intubate her in the ambulance, but she's stable.”
The words should comfort me.
They don't.
Because she's lying there unconscious and I can't—I can't—
“The baby?” I force out.
“Heartbeat is strong,” Carnage confirms. “Doctors are monitoring, but so far no complications.”
I move to the bedside, my legs feeling like they might give out.
Up close, I can see the ash smudged on her face.
The way her chest rises and falls, shallow but steady.
The faint bruising around her throat from smoke inhalation.
She looks so fragile. So breakable. She almost died.
I sink into the chair beside the bed and reach for her hand. Her skin is too cold.
“Has she woken up?” I ask, not looking away from her face.
“In and out,” Carnage grits out. “Mostly out. Doctors said it's normal, her body is shutting down to heal. The smoke inhalation was severe.”
I nod, not trusting my voice. We sit in silence for a moment. The tension between us is thick despite fighting together earlier. Because this isn't about war, extraction or violence.
This is about her.
“You ran into a burning building,” Carnage finally says. “For her.”
“And?”
“You could have died.”
“Your point?”
More silence.
“Masen's dead,” Carnage he finally says. “She must have killed him. Hit him with a cast iron skillet until his skull caved in.”
I look at him then. “How the fuck do you know?”
“She told me when she woke up. He was going to shoot the baby,” Carnage continues, his voice hardening. “Told her he was going to kill it to hurt you. To take away your future the way you took away his NHL career.”
White-hot rage floods through me.
“If he wasn't already dead,” I say quietly, “I'd kill the cunt slowly.”
“I know,” Carnage says. “That's why I'm telling you. So you understand what she went through tonight. What she did to survive.”
I look back at Toren, and something in my chest cracks wider. She killed her own brother. For our baby.
For us.
“And Fiona was there,” Carnage adds, and his voice drops. “Tried to kill her too. Toren knocked her unconscious with a pot, then set the fire.”
“Where's the fucking bitch now?” I ask, my voice deadly quiet.
“We pulled her out,” Carnage says. “She's secured. Unconscious when we left, but she should be waking up soon.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
I pull it out and see a text from an unknown number.
Carnage gave me your number.
Fiona is awake.
If you want in on the interrogation, get here within the hour. After that, I'm not sharing.
I stare at the messages. I know who it's from.
Then I look at Toren, still unconscious. She's stable, I tell myself. She's breathing. She's safe. But Fiona is awake. And she tried to kill them. She helped cover up the crash, she was involved with taking Emery, Neave and Miles from me.
“Who is it?” Carnage asks, his tone careful.
“Alex,” I say. “Fiona's awake. He's offering me a chance to... play with her.”
Carnage goes very still.
“You're thinking about going,” he says. Not a question.
“She tried to kill Toren,” I say flatly. “Tried to kill the baby and helped my father and Steven cover up the fucking crash!”
“And Toren is unconscious in a hospital bed,” Carnage points out, his voice hardening. “She’s pregnant with your kid and you’re gonna leave her here?”
“You're here,” I snap.
The words land wrong.
I see it in the way Carnage's jaw clenches.
“I'm not who she needs,” he says quietly. I can tell it pained him to admit that. “When she wakes up, she's going to want you. Not me.”
“She's not waking up anytime soon,” I say, looking at the monitors. “Doctors said hours, maybe longer.”
“You don’t deserve her,” he snarls, and now there's anger creeping into his voice. “We just broke you out of a CIA black site. I coordinated an assault to save your ass. And the second Fiona's available to torture, you're leaving Toren here alone.”
I tamper down my anger and fight against the urge to assassinate this son of a bitch. “She's safe here.”
“She needs you,” Carnage interrupts.
We stare at each other. All the partnership from earlier—the coordinated assault, the mutual goal—crumbling under the weight of this moment.
“You don't get to tell me what the fuck to do,” I say quietly.
“Someone needs to,” Carnage shoots back. “Because you're about to make the same mistake you always make. Choosing revenge over her.”
“Fiona tried to kill her—”
“And you're going to torture her instead of holding Toren's hand,” Carnage cuts me off. “Instead of being here when she wakes up, scared and alone. Instead of—”
He stops himself, jaw clenched.
“Instead of what?” I ask, and something dangerous edges into my voice.
“Instead of actually being the man she deserves,” Carnage finishes.
Silence.
Heavy. Loaded.
“You think you could be that man?” I ask quietly. “Is that it? You want to be the one she wants?”
“This isn't about me—”
“The fuck it isn't,” I hiss, standing. “You think I don't know? Think I didn't see that surveillance footage Fiona showed me?”
Carnage goes very still.
“What footage?”
“You trying to fuck my girl on the sofa.” I say, moving closer. “In the living room.”
“I didn't,” Carnage says, his voice hard.
“Only because she pulled back,” I snarl. “Not because you showed restraint. You wanted to. You wanted to take what's mine.”
“She's not a possession—”
“She's mine,” I cut him off. “And you don't get to touch her. Don't get to—”
“What?” Carnage challenges, stepping forward until we're inches apart. “Care about her? Want her to be happy? Give her the comfort you refuse to? Yeah, I wanted to kiss her, Devlin. And you know what? For about three seconds, she wanted it too.”
The words hit like a knife to the gut.
“But she pulled back,” Carnage continues, his voice dropping. “She chose you. Even though you're poison. Even though you keep hurting her. Even though I would actually be there for her. Care about her the way she deserves and never make her suffer or wonder her worth. She still chose you.”
He leans in slightly.
“So maybe instead of threatening me, you should ask yourself why. Why would she choose the man who destroys her over the one who would protect and love her better than you?”
“Because she loves me,” I force out.
“Yeah,” Carnage agrees. “She does. For some fucked up reason, she loves you. And that's the only reason you're not dead right now. Because killing you would hurt her.”
I grab him by the shirt, slamming him against the wall.
Monitors start beeping frantically.
“You ever try that again—” I start.
“I didn't try anything,” Carnage says coldly, not even fighting back. “She was crying. I comforted her. And for one moment—one single fucking moment—we both forgot ourselves. But she remembered. She remembered you. And she pulled back.”
He meets my eyes.
“What I won't do is apologize for caring about her. For being there when you weren't. For holding her while she broke down over the shit you put her through.”
I release him, stepping back.
My hands are shaking from rage, from fear, from something I can't name.
“This doesn't change anything,” Carnage says, straightening his shirt. “I'll still protect her. Still be there when she needs someone. But I won't cross that line again unless she asks me to. Because, unlike you, I respect her enough to let her make her own choices.”
“She’ll never ask,” I vow.
He moves toward the door.
“But Devlin? If you leave her here alone, if you choose torturing Fiona over being here when she wakes up, don't expect me to defend you anymore. Don't expect me to make excuses. I'm done covering for you.”
“You've never covered for me,” I point out.