Page 61 of Power and Possession

His face bobbed up and down as he attempted to look at me.

“Steele,” I whispered, walking towards him, trying not to cry as my shoes slipped on a fresh trail of blood. He tried tolook at me again, but he lacked the strength. I wanted to reach out, grab him, tell him it was okay, but there wasn’t any place I could touch that didn’t look like it would cause him pain. Bruises marred his skin, and I thought I saw a burn on his right shoulder. Finally, I leaned in as gently as I could, and I kissed him on the forehead.

His head jerked up and he squirmed, in pain but also disbelief.

“I’m here,” I said, the tears now falling freely. “I’ve come to take you home.”

“My home is wherever you are,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “I’ve seen you so many times while I’ve been here, but this visit is the best.” His face leaned into my hand, and he let out a small, breathy sigh.

“I’m really here.”

“I must be near death,” he mused, closing his one good eye.

I wanted to shake him, help get him out of whatever delusional state he was in, but I couldn’t hurt him anymore. However, every second I lingered in the warehouse made the situation more and more precarious. I brought my lips to his, carefully, and kissed his swollen mouth, hoping it would help him break through his psychosis. He kissed me back, moaning, his eyes still closed. It was the first time he’d kissed me and hadn’t hardened, which worried me extensively about the state of his injuries.

“Steele, I need you to pay attention. I’m going to get you out of here, but you have to help me. I can’t carry you.”

I grabbed the keys out of my pocket, and then reached up to unlock his chains, incredibly thankful I’d had the sense to make copies of them all.

The second I leaned in towards Steele, he moaned in pain. I jerked away and saw the residual blood on the front of my shirt. My shirt had stuck to one of his wounds, and it was enough to pull the scab off. The wound started bleeding freely. I couldn’t hold it in any longer, and I flew to the corner, vomiting up ropeystrands of bile.

“You never vomited in here before,” he mumbled, his forehead wrinkling. “You just kissed me. When your father did his worst, you were in the corner. Telling me it would all be okay.”

The tears burned my eyes, and I inhaled sharply as he described his hallucinations. What exactly had my father done to him?

This time I reached out from his side and undid the thick cuffs, freeing him. The second his hands were unbound, he collapsed into a pile on the floor.

I kneeled beside him quickly. My jeans were now covered in his blood, but I didn’t care.

“Steele, you’ve got to get up. Lean on me.”

He looked at me, and everything seemed to finally sink in after he hit the ground. “You’re really here?”

“Yes. Now get your ass up, and let’s get out of here.”

He smiled before wincing from the pain. “That’s my girl,” he said, pushing himself up off the ground. He finally got to his feet, but he was so weak he could hardly stand. I wrapped my arm around his waist, knowing that I just had to get him to the car. Once I did that, Sutton would help me with the rest.

Step by step, we finally made it out of the warehouse to the waiting limo. He could barely climb inside, but Sutton, hiding his horror at Steele’s injuries, helped me shove him in. I slid into the backseat next to Steele, ensuring the partition was up. I trusted Sutton, but I was afraid of what my father’s intimidation could do. I’d begged him not to tell my father about Steele, and to just tell him he took me straight to JFK. He agreed, but I knew my father too well.

I grabbed my duffel from the floorboard and pulled out the food and clothes. If Steele had been more with it, he probably would have figured out where I’d got the clothing and refuse, but he was fading in and out of consciousness and didn’t fuss as I slipped a t-shirt over his head. I couldn’t get him to eat or drink, which horrified me.

“Steele, I need you to give me a phone number. That man who was with you when I was taken. He needs to wait for us and help me get you medical attention.”

“Cooper. He’s probably taken over my business already. It’s not important. I just want you.”

I sighed. He was acting like a toddler, and while I understood his confusion and delirium, I really needed to get help.

“Steele, think. His number. A phone number.”

He slumped against the backseat, his head off to one side. Shit. He was in really bad condition.

“Daniel. Give me Cooper’s number and I’ll kiss you.”

His face perked up and he whispered the digits to me. I dialed the numbers on my phone triumphantly. I’d planned to ditch my phone as soon as we got to the airport so my father couldn’t track me.

Steele picked up his head and leaned towards mine, eager for his kiss, but I just gave him a quick peck as the phone rang. He scowled but then rested his head against the seat as Sutton headed towards JFK.

“Cooper.”

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