35. Briar #2
I reach my hand toward him. He grabs it gently and helps me into the tub.
The moment I slide down, I wince sharply.
The warm water burns like fire on every cut and bruise, stinging viciously even inside me.
Fresh tears spill down my cheeks, but I force myself to stay there, breathing through the sharp discomfort that radiates through my sore muscles and raw skin.
I pull my knees up to my chest and rest my forehead against them, trying to hide the way my body trembles.
“Briar,” Drystan whispers, voice thick.
I look up at him. A single tear slips from his eye, tracing down his cheek. “Will you ever forgive me?” His voice is so broken it forms a painful knot in my throat. “My own father… it was all because of me—”
“I know. He told me.” I reply, my own voice cracking.
Another tear falls from his eyes. “I will never blame you, Drystan. Your father is his own person. He did this because he is evil. Just like my father was. You kept me alive.” The words break on the way out, heavy with exhaustion and lingering fear.
He leans in, one large hand cradling the back of my head, and presses a kiss to the top of it. He stays there, not moving. I close my eyes and inhale his familiar scent mixed with the soft orange blossom from the oils. It smells like home. Like fragile, desperate hope.
He stands up and I see the way his body sways, like he is losing balance.
“Drystan!” I yell and surge up from the tub. My entire body screams in protest, sharp, burning pain ripping through every cut, bruise, and sore muscle, but I lunge for him as he falls. I manage to grab his head before it hits the hard floor.
I snatch the towel beside us to cover myself and scream at the top of my lungs. The twins burst into the bathroom moments later.
“I’m okay,” Drystan tries to move, but Enzo is already on him, pressing down firmly. I watch in horror as blood pools across the tiles, mixing with the water that spilled from the tub.
“I told you you needed stitches, asshole,” Enzo grunts, voice tight.
“Do you need anything?” Easton asks me as Enzo helps Drystan out of the bathroom.
“I need him alive.” The words come out as a desperate plea. I look straight into Easton’s eyes, my voice shaking. “I can’t lose him. Not now.”
He nods once and turns, leaving quickly. I am left alone on the cold floor, surrounded by Drystan’s blood, my body trembling with exhaustion and fresh waves of fear.
The water from the tub is cooling rapidly against my skin, but it is nothing compared to the terror gripping my chest, that after everything, I might still lose him.
My mind is still spiraling as I wash up quickly.
I move slowly, my legs shaky and weak, sharp pains shooting through my hips and thighs with every step.
I grab one of Drystan’s shirts and a pair of sweatpants, dress as fast as my aching body allows, and walk out of the bedroom.
I follow the sound of running water and low grunts of pain to a small office down the hall.
Drystan is sitting in a chair while Easton stitches the wound on his chest, right near where my name is carved. He looks up at me and smiles.
I feel like I can breathe again. He’s okay. He’s alive.
A phone rings. Enzo answers it.
“Yeah?” he says.
Someone speaks on the other end. He turns to me.
“It’s for you.”
I take the phone, not recognizing the number, my hand trembling.
“Briar?” Lucille’s voice breaks into sobs the second she hears me. I cry harder, gripping the phone so tightly my fingers ache.
“Lucille?” I choke out. “It’s you—oh God, it’s really you—”
She cries harder on the other end. I glance at Drystan. He gives me a small, encouraging nod.
I slip out of the room and sink onto the small bench near the window, my legs threatening to give out.
I tell her some of what happened, enough to explain without the worst details. I can’t bring myself to say them out loud. Not yet.
She listens through her tears, the sound of her crying breaking my heart all over again. In the background I hear a steady beeping.
“Where are you?” I ask, voice shaking.
She is quiet for a moment. “Hospital,” she confesses. I can tell she is trying so hard to stay calm for me.
“Why?” More tears fall. My heart feels like it is cracking apart inside my ribs.
“I went to water your plants and some men showed up. They—” She stops, voice catching. I cover my mouth to muffle my sob. “Your twin friends got there in time, but… I had to have surgery.”
“Because of me—” I say, terrified.
“No.” She stops for a second. “Because of Lawrence. Because he’s a fucked up person who deserves nothing but pain. But I’m safe now,” she says, her voice growing a little steadier. “Drystan placed me in a private hospital. Two men are always here guarding me.”
I hear a voice calling for her in the background. “My doctor is here,” she says softly.
“I love you,” Tears streaming down my face.
“I love you too, sweetheart. So much.” She ends the call.
“I will bring her here once she’s discharged from the hospital,” Drystan says quietly behind me.
I turn. He is standing there shirtless, dried blood smeared across his torso. His muscles are tense, his beautiful green eyes mirroring my own—tired and broken.
I reach for him. “Come on. You need a shower.”
He smiles faintly and strides toward me, picking me up with one arm like I weigh nothing. “You don’t take care of me,” he murmurs. “I take care of you. I make sure all the pain goes away. Me, my love.”
He leans down, lips hovering near mine. He doesn’t push. He waits. Slowly, I rise up to meet him. Our lips connect. Gentle, slow, full of everything we almost lost. For the first time in what feels like forever, my heart beats steady again.