30. Drystan
Chapter Thirty
DRYSTAN
She is lying on my lap, having cried for hours before falling into a heavy silence for the past thirty minutes.
Her breathing has finally settled into something steady and exhausted against my thigh.
I was expecting her to be furious, to try to kill me or run again, but she did not. She believed me.
“Briar—” I whisper. She looks up, her face swollen from all the crying, her blue eyes red and raw, tears still clinging to her lashes like tiny shards of glass. “I had to—” I start, needing her to understand.
“I know.” She reaches for my face and pulls me into a kiss. “But he’s my father, it hurts Drystan.”
“I know my love. I know.” I do not know what else to tell her.
“He was never perfect. He was cold and not a nice husband to my mother, and for most of my childhood I barely remember him being there—that night, after it happened when I called him… The way he ignored me, the way he didn’t even come to see me for years, it was one phone call on my birthday.
Deep down I knew something had happened but… ” Her voice breaks.
“You couldn’t have known—he was a monster.” I choke out.
More tears fall, sliding down her cheeks. “He sold me—” A small sob leaves her throat and she covers her lips to keep it low.
I grab her hand and place it over the scar of her name on my chest. “Don’t hide from me. Cry. Scream. Break. I can take it.” Her body shakes a little against mine as she sobs louder and presses her face to my chest.
“My own father—” She repeats but I do not answer.
All I can think is I should have made him suffer more.
The rage simmers hot beneath my skin, clawing to get out, but I push it down, forcing my arms to stay gentle around her trembling body.
She is the only thing that matters. The only light I have ever known.
I will carry every piece of her pain until it no longer breaks her.
I will burn the rest of the world if I have to.
She looks up at me and I kiss her, holding her closer, wanting to feel the warmth of her body against mine, but my phone pings—the one connected to the cameras in her apartment. I break the kiss and pull the phone out. Briar leans in and I open the feed.
“Oh my God, so many cameras.” She states.
I nod and run through them to see Lucille placing her coat over the chair by the kitchen.
“Lucille.” Briar breathes as she sees her friend.
“What is she doing there?” I ask.
I watch as Lucille takes a glass, fills it with water, and begins watering the plants. Briar smiles softly. “She loves plants, she came to take care of them.”
I nod and turn the feed off. I kiss her lips gently again, my eyes meeting hers. “I will find them all. I am not done.”
“I know.” She smiles gently against my mouth.
I brush a tear away with my thumb before easing her onto the black couch. When she’s settled beneath the blanket, I rise to my feet. “I’ll get you some water.” I need to leave her for a minute to gather my thoughts.
She gives me a soft smile and curls up on the couch. I walk toward the kitchen and stop by the counter, gripping the edge until my knuckles turn white.
I cannot see her like this. I need to find the other two. The ones who paid her father.
If Archibald was capable of selling his own daughter, then she has never been safe.
She isn’t safe with anyone but me.
No one can protect her like I can.
No one ever will.
Ping.
I take a deep breath and welcome the distraction. Probably Lucille leaving the apartment, but I check the cameras just to be sure. It is not Lucille. Two men are inside the apartment. All in black with ski masks.
Fuck.
I run, grabbing my other phone and calling Easton. He picks up on the first ring.
“Where are you?” I ask.
“In town near—” He replies, but I do not let him finish.
“Go to Briar’s apartment. Lucille is there and two men just walked in.” I pass by Briar, grabbing my car keys on the way.
“Where are you going?” She jumps to her feet.
“I need to take care of something. Do not fucking leave,” I warn her and move to the car, slamming the door behind me.
I place the phone on the dashboard and watch as the two men move through the living room. Lucille appears on the feed. I drive through the gate, pressing the pedal to the floor.
I will not make it in time, but maybe the twins will. I call Easton again.
“Five minutes.” Easton’s voice comes through the phone.
“Fuck! They will kill her!” I roar over the engine.
“No—”
I end the call.
The phone stays on the dashboard, the camera feed shaking with every bump in the road.
Lucille appears in the hallway.
She freezes.
The masked men see her.
My foot slams harder onto the accelerator.
The engine screams as the speedometer climbs.
“Run,” I whisper. “Run.”
She turns and bolts toward the front door.
One of them catches her by the hair before she makes it halfway.
“Fuck!”
I wrench the steering wheel around a slow-moving car, tires skidding over the rain-slick asphalt.
Her scream tears through the speakers.
He slams her head into the wall.
The crack echoes inside the car.
“No…”
Her body crumples, limp, but they do not stop.
They throw her onto the hardwood floor.
Rain batters the windshield so hard the wipers can barely keep up.
One man drives his boot into her stomach.
Her body jerks violently.
The other grabs her by the hair again.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Her forehead smashes against the floor with sickening force. Blood spreads beneath her head, dark and glossy against the wood.
I grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles ache.
The road stretches long and dark ahead, the rain pounding against the roof as I push the car faster, my mind racing with worry for the woman I left curled on that black couch back at Hellebore. She is safe there for now, but the world outside keeps reaching for what is mine.
One of the guys walks straight up to the hidden camera. “Are you enjoying the show?”
What the fuck?
I increase the speed, weaving the car between others that blur past on the rain-slick road. The other masked man picks Lucille up and lays her limp body on the couch, his hands moving to the zipper of her black jeans.
No. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
He starts pulling them down when the door flies open with a violent crash.
Easton charges in like a fucking bull and slams into the man, driving him hard into the floor.
Enzo grabs the second intruder, yanking him backward.
They slam both of them down onto the hardwood with brutal force.
Enzo lifts his boot and brings it crashing down on one man’s head.
The skull gives way with a sickening crack, blood and brain matter splattering across the floor in a dark, wet spray that coats the wood and the edge of the couch.
I watch as Easton grabs one of Briar’s cups from the table and smashes it against the other man’s face.
Glass shatters, slicing deep into his nose and cheeks.
Blood pours instantly, mixing with the shards embedded in his skin.
Easton grabs the man’s neck with both hands and twists hard.
The snap is loud and final. The body goes limp and falls to the floor in a heap.
Shit. I wanted one of them alive, but fuck it.
I watch Easton gently pull Lucille’s jeans back up her legs with careful hands, then lift her unconscious body against his chest. Blood streaks her face and soaks into her clothes from the wounds on her head.
“Hospital,” he orders Enzo, and they both disappear from the cameras.
I keep driving, the wheel tight in my grip.
I text Briar.
“Stay home. Do not leave. The twins are outside.” I lie to make sure she remains where she is.
The road feels endless, but I finally reach Briar’s building.
Fuck. It is already surrounded by cops.
My phone vibrates. It is Easton.
“How is she?” I ask, my hands shaking with barely contained rage. Lucille was never important to me, but she is to Briar. She was the one who kept Briar alive until I could reach her. If Lucille dies, Briar will never recover. She will blame herself forever.
“Surgery. She is in bad shape, Drystan. They do not know if she will make it.” I can hear the cold anger in his tone.
“I will be right there.” I end the call and stare at the flashing red and blue sirens lighting up the street ahead.
Why attack Lucille? Did they think it was Briar? And this happening so soon after I killed Archibald does not feel random.
They knew the cameras were there. It was a message for me. But do they know who “me” is?
I shake my head. There are too many questions. I drive to the hospital, park, and walk into the ER. I see Enzo first. He nods, and Easton steps into view.
“Nothing.” Easton’s tone is low, stripped of its usual ease. “She is still in surgery.”
I drag a hand over my face, every muscle in my body still vibrating with adrenaline. “Did you know she was in danger?”
“No.”
“She was never supposed to be.” The words come out like gravel. “She met Briar after everything happened. There was no connection. No reason for anyone to even know she existed.”
“Until you showed up.” Enzo’s voice cuts through the silence.
I turn toward him.
He is leaning against the wall outside the operating rooms, arms crossed over his chest, dried blood still staining the sleeves of his black shirt. There is nothing calm about him despite the stillness. His jaw is locked so tightly I can see the muscle twitch.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He pushes himself off the wall and closes the distance between us one slow step at a time.
“It means Lucille lived her entire life unnoticed until you walked back into Briar’s.”
My chest tightens. “She became a target because she mattered to Briar.” His eyes never leave mine. “And Briar matters to you.”
“Are you saying this is my fault?” I move, stopping inches from him.
“I am saying people keep bleeding around you.”
The words hit harder than any fist.
“You brought a war back with you, Drystan.” His voice remains low, but every syllable is sharpened into a blade. “Maybe Lucille was never the target. Maybe she was just the easiest way to hurt Briar. Maybe Briar is the easiest way to hurt you.”
Rage explodes through me.
I grab the front of his shirt before I even realize I have moved.
“You think I wanted this?”
“No.” He doesn’t even try to pry my hand off his shirt. “I think you only ever look at one person.”
My grip tightens.
“You see Briar.” His voice remains cold, unwavering. “Only Briar.”
“She is all that matters.”
“I know.” The words come without hesitation. “And that is exactly the fucking problem.”
I shove him hard.
“She breathes and you forget the rest of the world exists.” His eyes burn into mine. “You would burn down an entire city if it meant keeping her alive.”
“I would,” I growl.
“Then stop acting surprised when the fire reaches everyone standing beside her.”
The words slam into me.
“Lucille didn’t matter until she mattered to Briar.” Enzo takes a step closer, refusing to back down. “Now she’s lying in surgery because someone wanted to hurt the one person you cannot survive without.”
Rage surges through my veins. “You think I don’t know that?”
“I think you refuse to see what your obsession costs.”
My fist curls tighter in the fabric of his shirt. “I don’t give a fuck about anyone else.”
“I know.” For the first time, anger flashes openly across Enzo’s face. “But Briar does.”
Silence crashes between us.
“She loves people.” His voice drops lower, rougher. “She lets them into her life. And every person she loves becomes another target because of you.”
Enzo doesn’t back down. “She isn’t the only one paying for your war anymore.”
“Enough.” Easton wedges himself between us, one hand against my chest, the other pushing Enzo back.
“For fuck’s sake.” His voice echoes down the corridor. “We are standing outside an operating room. Lucille is fighting for her life, and the two of you are about to start another war.”
Silence crashes over us.
After a long moment, Easton looks at me.
“Briar?”
“Hellebore,” I answer, my eyes never leaving Enzo.
“She needs to know.” Easton pushes me back harder.
I lock eyes with him now and a chill runs down my spine. She will not be able to handle it. I just told her I killed her father, and now she is about to lose the only person she truly loves. The thought of her breaking under the weight of it all sends fresh rage surging through me.
“Call me as soon as you know something.” I turn and walk out of the hospital.
I check the cameras as I slide back into the car. She is lying on the couch where I left her, curled up small beneath the blanket, sleeping.
I cannot tell her, but I have to.
I start the car and drive back toward Hellebore.
The road stretches long and dark ahead, rain still falling in steady sheets that blur the world outside the windows.
The weight of everything presses down on my chest with every mile, the beast inside me pacing restlessly, hungry for more blood and answers.
She is waiting for me at Hellebore after everything I have already taken from her life.
And now this. Another shadow reaching for what is mine.
I grip the wheel tighter, knuckles white, and keep driving through the storm.