Without a word, I nod to her parents and leave the room.
Max catches me in the hall, shaking my hand and thanking me for helping his sister. Even though it’s out of character for me, I offer him my phone number and let him add his into my contacts, telling him that if he needs anything else, not to hesitate to reach out. It’s more of a placation than anything. His sister will eventually heal, even though I know it’s going to be a long, uphill battle.
I can finally take a deep breath when the front doors of the hospital open with a whoosh, and I step outside. I’m fifteen feet from the freedom of the SUVs when my phone chirps a text. Normally, I’d ignore it until we’re on the road, but with the sound comes an uneasy feeling that settles in my gut, and when I pull my phone from my pocket, that instinct is confirmed.
Max: She needs you, man. She woke up screaming again.
I lift my eyes to the guys waiting for me, finding Kincaid’s. He must have heard what happened in Mia’s room during the debriefing with the other guys because he gives me a nod, and it’s all that I need to turn back around.
My parents will be sad I won’t make Christmas, but there’s something more important that I have to take care of. I don’t feel an ounce of irritation as I head back into the hospital, and the guys pull away from the curb.
Leaving her bed was harder than it was to pass her off to the medics back at the compound, but it’s the knowledge that each time I have to walk away from her will only be harder makes me slow my steps as I close the distance between me and her room.
I vow to give her a week tops before I explain that I have a life to get back to.
What I don’t anticipate is feeling like a week with her will never be enough.
Chapter 2
Mia
Closing my eyes is the worst.
When I’m no longer able to resist and sleep takes over is when the demons return.
It’s when I’m thrown back into the nightmare, I feel like I’ll never be able to rid myself of completely.
It’s when the hands and sneering faces of my captors once again get ahold of me.
It’s when the smells and the sounds of the whimpering women infiltrate my head.
It’s the destruction of my body, my mind, and my soul.
I jolt awake before the man with the scars on his face can drag me back to his lair, and I wake up in the warm and protective arms of Ryan. He’s the only one who makes the fear manageable. He’s the only one I want near me. And even though I question my sanity for clinging to this stranger, he’s the only person who quiets the screams and the terror coursing through my head.
It’s all coming to an end today. I’ve heard my parents and my dead brother speaking about my discharge. The thought of Ryan leaving my side frightens me more than the car ride I took seven weeks ago with my head covered in a cloth bag so thick my own breaths were stifled until I thought I’d die of asphyxiation.
Max isn’t supposed to be here, and yet his presence is a constant reminder that nothing makes sense anymore. He speaks to me, reminding me of all the things I lost when my twin died in a car accident a decade ago. His death, the loss of half of who I am, was a blow I never thought I’d recover from. And even though he’s said the words, even though he whispered the entire story of what happened ten years ago, I still can’t let myself believe that he’s really here.
Men don’t come back from the dead, a fact I’ve repeated over and over in my head since Ryan told me all of the men at the compound were now worm food. They haunt me in my nightmares, but they can no longer hurt me while I’m awake. It’s a small consolation for what has happened since I decided to make a quick stop at the mall on my way home from work.
That day plays on repeat even when I try my hardest to think of anything else.
I’ve tried to change the scenario in my mind. I walk away from the smiling handsome guy in the parking lot rather than speak to him about his car trouble. I refuse to help him when he winks at me with a dangerous smirk.
Hell, I even recreate my home life, trying to convince myself that Jason was around more often rather than spending all of his free time at the office, so I wasn’t enthralled with the good-looking guy because I had a doting fiancé waiting for me.
But it always ends the same. I still walk to his car so he can get a jack for my flat tire. I still end up with a bag over my head and rough hands on my back as he tied me up and shoved me in the trunk. I still end up at the mercy of men who don’t listen to the word no. I still end up being used, hurt, and vowed to that I’ll never see my family or the light of day ever again.
I believed those men because they made promises that they kept. They told me that they’d hurt me, and they did. They told me that I'd never be the same, and I know that’s as true as I know that I’m leaving here today whether I want to or not. They told me I’d die in that compound, and even though I’m on the other side of their torment, I know I’m dead.
I feel it bone-deep, the emptiness and despair.
I feel the pain and degradation of what happened to my body against my will.
I feel cold and indifferent to what happens next. I’m buried under my racing thoughts and inability to heal on the inside.
But even though I don’t care what happened because I’ve suffered things no person should, I still hold on to Ryan like he’s my buoy in a sea of doubt and anguish. He’s the only thing keeping me rooted to the here and now. It’s not my mother or father, not the specter of my twin coming back to life, and it surely isn’t Jason, whom I haven’t seen since I woke up from surgery days ago.
I blink my eyes open, visually verifying that my anchor is still at my side even though I can feel the warmth of his body against mine.
The people around me talk as if I’m not there, and I know it’s because they think I’m so lost in my head that I’m not paying attention, but vigilance is the only reason they didn’t pull my body, dead and rotting, from the compound. Giving up now seems like the best idea, but while there, all I wanted was to be free. All I wanted was the do-over that I was never afforded while I was their toy to play with and abuse. The undertaking seems like too much work, so I hold on to him harder and bury my nose in his shirt.
His hand, the same one that reached for me while I cowered in that dark room, runs the length of my back, and it’s comforting, but it’s his words, his simple tales of childhood and every minute detail of his life before today that calms me. I know more about Ryan Gabhart, Scooter to his MC friends, than I do about my own fiancé, and that’s telling.
“They’re going to release you today, Mia,” Ryan whispers as my parents and Max argue over what happens next.
I hold him tighter, refusing to acknowledge the pain in my broken arm. It’s nothing compared to the dread settling over me at the thought of not having him.
“She’s coming home with us,” Pa declares. “It’s where she needs to be.”
Home is where I was abducted. If I never step foot on Louisiana soil again in my life, it’ll be too soon.
“Mia?” Ryan nudges my head with his shoulder, but I refuse to lift it.
I haven’t said a word to him; not one single phrase has left my mouth since seeing the halo of light around him as he lifted me from the floor and carried me to safety. It hasn’t, however, kept him from speaking to me like he hasn’t been carrying on a one-sided conversation for days.