The car had barely come to a stop before I was unbuckling my belt, asking Kendra if she would mind watching Sarka for me and running across the road to the main doors.
They automatically opened, and a crisp, air-conditioned open space welcomed me. People mulled around dragging poles that carried their IV bags; porters were pushing empty beds through the corridors behind the reception desk, the P.A system buzzed with voices.
A young blonde lady say behind the desk, her uniform was blinding white, and she looked up at me with a welcoming smile. “How may I help you?”
“My name’s Ella Williams; I’m here to see Jaxon Murdoch. He’s in intensive care.”
She tapped away at the computer and directed me where to go.
“Thank you!” I breathed, rushing over to the elevators, reaching it just as it opened.
I made my way through long hallways, dodging people as I rushed through them, eyes reading the signs overhead. A few moments later, I reached the ICU reception.
“Jaxon Murdoch,” I panted.
“Room six, sweetie.” The receptionist said, pointing behind me.
I gasped. Several of Archie’s men were standing outside room number six. The hospital administrator knew the Murdoch’s, meaning special privilege was awarded, and for that I was grateful.
Vladimir was still out there.
Placing a hand on my stomach to calm the nerves, I approached the men. They stepped aside, giving me a nod of acknowledgment, and my hand rested on the door handle.
Breathe, Ella.
“Go on, hon. You’ll be okay.” Said a soft voice beside me.
A nurse appeared and walked into the room.
As the door swung open, tears fell down my cheeks, splashing on my top.
Jax had never looked so small. His entire body with wires trailing everywhere, a needle sticking in the back of his left hand, drips hanging from bags, cast over both legs, his face was thinner now, but his eyes. Oh, my those eyes.
Black eyes found mine, and I cried.
“Ella,” he croaked, a whisper if that.
I rushed to him, mindful of the wires, and the nurse stood aside, taking notes. “Oh, Jaxon.” I held the tips of his fingers and stroked them.
“You can give him a kiss, sweetie, just go easy on him.” The nurse tucked her pen in the breast pocket of her scrubs and left us alone.
“Ella,” he croaked again.
I kissed his lips as softly as possible. “Shh, shh,” I cooed, wiping the tears away.
“I l-love you, bird.”
“I love you, too, so, so much.” I kissed him once more.
I spent hours with Jaxon that morning, we sat in silence for most of it, but my hand never left his, and I watched him drift in and out of sleep, and while I took in the sight of him so broken and beaten and bruised, I knew that this wasn’t the end. Not while Vladimir had breath in his lungs.
I had this beautiful man, and his incredible family, and a wonderful daughter who I was only just getting to know, I’d be damned if let the Chrobak’s beat us.
No.
We may have escaped, Jax may have woken up, but we weren’t finished. Not by a long shot.
I wanted to see them all burn. I wanted Purgatory to become a pile of ash and rubble and the souls of all those who died at Vlad’s hand to be set free.
I closed my eyes and braced myself for the impending war.
I’m coming, sweet husband, I’m coming.
The End