Page 19 of Dirty Empire

Chapter Seven: Love Cures

Hazel

I’m awake, but I don't want to open my eyes. The strong smell of cleaning supplies and the soft sounds of machines tell me I’m in a hospital. The bed underneath me isn’t comfortable, but it is better than the cold concrete floor I’ve been sleeping on for however long. There weren’t any clocks in the dungeon Miles had kept me in, so I had no sense of time. It could have been weeks or months.

Memories of the door being kicked open, and someone carrying me in their arms fills my mind. The memories are blurry at best. The memories I wish I could forget are clear as day. The black box devoid of light. The reek of death. Because that place I’d been trapped in, that hellhole, was where Miles had brought his enemies. He used it to torture them for information or to execute them.

Some days, I’d crawled across the floor just to keep my eyes from closing. I faded in and out of consciousness from lack of food. I used a dirty nail, in the beginning, to try and tally the number of days I’d been imprisoned. I woke up one day to find Miles hovering over me, his body drenched in sweat, and my legs open. I cried a thousand tears, but eventually, my heart just shut down.

“Hazel?”

The sound of Maverick’s voice comforts me. I’ve wanted to hear that voice for so long. I saw him weak, bleeding out on the floor of his own home. There was so much blood. It was silly. To dream that Maverick was alive and would save me again. He barely knew me, yet I’d held on to hope.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice holding the same amount of pain I feel inside.

I slowly open my eyes, wincing at the bright lights. I can only open them halfway because it hurts, but I’m able to make out Maverick’s form. He’s sitting on a chair, hunched over the bed as if his body is too tired to sit upright.

“Maverick,” I say quietly.

He sits up straight, and I can see the dark circles under his eyes. My protector. My shield.

“Oh, Maverick! I thought something happened to you. I’m so glad to see you.” The tears are stuck in my throat.

“You’re free now.” The intensity and sheer determination in this man’s tone let me know I’m in good hands. Silent tears of joy stream from my face like rivers. Maverick stands from the chair and wipes the tears away with his sleeve.

“The things he did to me, Maverick… He...he…” The tears that were stuck now come flowing out. Holding my hand tightly, Maverick wipes my tears away.

“It’s okay, Hazel. He can’t hurt you anymore. He’s gone now. I swear to God. He can’t touch you. Ever.”

“But...but...he was drunk one night and came into my cell and he...”

My stomach heaves with grief as I struggle to tell him the ugly truth. He closes his eyes. I know he doesn't want to hear it, but I feel the need to tell him.

“It’s okay… I’m here now, and no one will ever hurt you again,” He says. He understood. He did his best to console me. But it’s a wound so deep I realize I may never fully recover. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t even walk when I was taken into the hospital. Who knew if I could even walk now?

I lean my head against Maverick’s shoulder and breath in his scent. He smells so clean and fresh. I want to curl up next to his side and tell him how grateful I am. He’s saved me twice now, and I will never be able to repay him. Why did he save me? He could have turned his back both times. His life would probably be a lot easier if he left me alone.

“Why did you come back for me?” I ask, lifting my head to look into his eyes.

His brows furrow together. “No one deserves to be treated like that, Hazel. Miles has hurt a lot of people. It was time for him to die.”

“He’s dead?” I ask.

Maverick nods.

I cast my eyes down to the white sheets of the hospital bed. My husband is dead. It’s hard to wrap my brain around everything. What happened to the man I had married all those years ago? How can someone turn so evil and hard? I guess it goes to show you never really know somebody. If I’d known the kind of monster Miles was, I would have never got involved with him. I’m just grateful we were never able to have kids together. It would only make this whole situation much more complicated.

A single tear rolls down my cheek. The tear isn’t for my dead husband. If anything, I feel relief that he can never come after me again. The tears are because I need to grieve my own mistakes and accept the fact that I choose a man that, in the end, only wanted to cause me pain.

“The doctor says you will need to stay here one more day. They want to make sure your body is absorbing all the fluid and nutrients before they release you,” he says.

“And then what?” I ask quietly. “Go back to Miles’s mansion?”

It’s technically mine now since I’m his widow, but I can’t go back there. I never want to see that mansion again. I’ll sleep on a park bench before I step a foot inside that house.

“You’re coming home with me,” he says. It’s not a question.

A nurse walks into the room with a bright smile on her face. “Looks like someone’s awake,” she says. She looks almost too young to be a nurse with blonde hair pulled back tight in a ponytail.

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