Page 114 of Release Me

Kendall’s announcement is followed closely by the pounding of several sets of footsteps, and suddenly the bathroom is full of people. Chantel and her team swoop in immediately and someone tries to pull me away from Nadia, but I resist.

“I’m not leaving her.”

Chantel places a gloved hand on my shoulder, and I meet her eyes. She’s not my doctor, but she is an old friend. We met in middle school and stayed in touch over the years. She’s the person I went to when I needed to create the network of doctors I use to provide medical services to the girls at Ludus.

“Sebastian,” she says, her voice soft but firm. “You have to give us room to work. You have to give us space to help Nadia, do you understand?”

“And the baby,” I mutter as I rise to my feet, backing away slowly even though every muscle in my body is demanding that I stay close. “She’s almost twelve weeks pregnant.” My voice breaks over the words. I spot the onesie on the floor and bend down to pick it up. The white fabric is now pink, tinged with sorrow and all my regrets.

Hours later, the onesie is still in my hand, and with every second that passes without Chantel or someone from her team coming to the waiting room of the private hospital they moved Nadia to after they did their initial assessment at home, I grip it tighter.

It’s a lifeline. The only tangible thing I have left of the reality I existed in before I walked into that bathroom and everything changed. I can’t unsee it. I can’t unlearn the harsh truth of my failure, so I just sit with it, letting it crush me.

“You couldn’t have known, Seb,” Russ says from the chair beside me. Him and the rest of the team were at the hospital when we arrived. I didn’t even have the energy to be mad at them for leaving Nadia because I was too busy blaming myself.

I still am.

Which is why instead of responding to Russ, I just grip the onesie tighter and pray. For Nadia. For the baby. For myself because if I lose them, it will destroy what’s left of me.

“I know how Beau got in,” Russ offers, which piques my interest. I turn my attention to the computer screen he’s just aimed in my direction. The footage is from just a few hours ago, somewhere around the time when Nadia was out shopping for baby clothes, and in it Beau is being guided down the hallway that leads to our front door by…

“Is that Vince?” I squint at the footage even though I know I’m seeing it correctly. Even though I know it’s my cousin using the key I gave him when I let him stay at my place years ago when his was being fumigated to let the man who abused and exploited Nadia into our home.

“How the fuck do they know each other?”

“They share a drug dealer,” Russ says, grimacing as he turns the computer back around. “It didn’t come up in my earlier searches for Beau, but I have footage of them arriving and leaving the building together. The plates belong to a low level dealer from Culver City named Amari Paul.”

Anger pulses through me in forceful jolts that make it impossible for me to stay seated. Russ watches me pace, his jaw as tense as my shoulders. He’s almost as angry as I am, which is good because it means he won’t ask any questions when he hears what I’m about to say next.

I pause in front of him. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“Get me a gun, something efficient and powerful that can’t be traced back to me.”

His expression shifts from open and willing to hesitant in a matter of seconds. I guess I read him wrong. “Why do you need a gun, Sebastian?”

“Because when you find whatever rock my cousin and Beau are hiding under, I’m going to drag them out by their feet and put a bullet in each of their heads.”

It should feel odd, swearing an oath to take two lives while I pray that two others will be saved, but it doesn’t. It only feels right. It only feels like the solution to a problem I should have taken care of a long time ago. It only feels like the beginning of penance that I’ll be paying to Nadia for the rest of my life.

“Sebastian?”

All thoughts of my lethal promise and the disturbed look on Russ’ face cease to matter when I hear Chantel’s voice behind me. I rush over to her, desperate for information, for knowledge that won’t change Vince and Beau’s fate, but will change mine.

“How is she? Is she okay?”

To my absolute joy, Chantel nods. “She’s doing great. All of her scans are clear. We just got her settled in her room, and she’s sleeping, but I know you want to be back there with her.”

She starts to walk down the hall, and I follow, eager to lay eyes on Nadia, to see her face and hear her voice. We’re standing outside the door when Chantel pauses and places a hand on my forearm.

“I have to warn you, there’s a lot of bruising and her lip is pretty badly swollen.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep the scream building in my throat from piercing the quiet in the hallway. “I understand.”

The courage to ask about the baby eludes me, and it takes me a second to realize that I don’t ask because I don’t want to know. In just a moment, I’ll walk into this hospital room and Nadia’s face with tell me everything, her eyes will tell me what we’ve lost, her lips will utter words that are laced with blame. But right now, outside in the hallway, I can imagine that there are two miracles waiting for me on the other side of this door, not one who might hate me, who might send me away the second she sees me.

“Ready?” Chantel asks, her long fingers gripping the handle on the door.

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