Page 84 of Crimson Tears

“Help!” she manages to yell. I squeeze tighter, needing her to shut the feck up so I can get out of here.

But even I know that’s a joke. I am losing strength fast, and my ribs now ache with new pain as the taste of blood coats my mouth.

Before I can neutralize her, two pairs of hands grab me and haul me up. I fight them, kicking and screaming in equal parts pain and sorrow as they wrestle me to the bed, yelling at me to make this easy on them so I don’t get myself hurt.

Jokes on you, assholes, everything already hurts. It can’t get worse.

Tears track down my face as everything builds within me. I scream and claw at the man who’s trying to get a grip on my bandaged wrist. He grits his teeth as the other tries to inject me with something, but I slap it out of his hand before he gets the chance, leaving the needle to clatter to the floor where the nurse lays gasping for air.

Bitch.

It all happens so fast that I feel like my life flashes before my eyes. If my father finds me, he’ll force me to marry that beast of a man. If he gets his hands on me, the torture Green put me through will be like a walk in the park because my father knows the one way to actually break my heart more than it already is.

I get my knees up, likely flashing the whole room while I want to vomit from the pain the effort causes. My foot shoots out and the man falls to the side, grabbing for his head and I smirk, going for the next one.

“You fucking bitch!” the first guy yells. That was a mistake. The eyes of the man still standing widen before looking down at his friend right as my hand goes for his throat.

I hit him hard and he goes down, struggling to breathe as I attempt to flee again. But this time, the first man grabs my ankle and I hit the floor with a cry of pain unlike any I have ever felt before. My broken ribs rattle as all of the wounds on my body feel as if they are splitting open. My neck aches in a way that makes me so dizzy I can’t figure out which way is up and which is down.

Someone grabs me and I can’t do anything but cry. Emotions choke me from the inside out before a familiar face finally comes into view, rushing into the room like his pants are on fire.

Doc.

I know the doctor well from my last injury. He saved me once before when the building collapsed on me, and I was impaled on a piece of metal rebar.

“Nessa, it’s okay. Just take a breath.” His furious gaze turns to the men who are now trying to basically hogtie me on the bed to keep me still. “Get your hands off her unless you want a bullet in your brain,” he orders.

They both freeze, raising their hands instantly. I stare at him in horror and confusion. Could he be working for my father?

“You’re safe, Nessa. I’m here now.”

My jaw drops open even as tears track down my cheeks as he picks up the syringe from the floor. I no longer know if they’re from pain or fear. Doc looks at me like he wants to apologize, and that can only mean two things.

“No!” I scream. I will not accept condolences if they are really gone. “No, no, no!” Throwing my hands over my ears, I try desperately to shut out this reality. I was raised to be strong, but this is too much. Like a dam breaking in my chest, I have no idea how to control the wave of emotions as I slowly begin to fall apart. I actually think I’m dying from the agony.

That is, until a booming voice begins yelling outside the door before it slams open, making me flinch. Dark eyes and tattoos appear in my line of vision, his tall frame taking up every inch of the doorway as he prowls towards me.

Cillian.

All of those emotions come flooding back, rearing their ugly heads as I begin to shake with sobs, relief flowing through every part of my being. I reach for him, and he scoops me into his arms gently, holding me so close I can smell his perfect scent of amber and wild grass as it surrounds me.

“Where is he?” It’s all I can ask as I cling to his shirt for dear life. I need to know they are both okay. I need to see them both, feel them under my hands to know they are real and alive.

“I am right here,Lisichka.” Boris rounds the bed and Cillian hands me to him as if I were nothing more than a child. I don’t care though.I have them both here.

Their combined scents envelop me as Boris holds me between the two of them on the bed, soothing the ache in my chest as I cry and let it all out. No one says anything, but Cillian rubs my leg where there are no visible injuries and Boris rocks me slowly, his fingers running through my hair.

“We leave to shower and grab a coffee and you take down a nurse and break free of all the fancy equipment Doc hooked you up to?” Cillian’s voice is amused but also concerned.

I reach for his arm, pulling him close until I am sandwiched between them. The pressure of their bodies against mine causes the wounds on my body to burn in protest, but I pull them closer still.

Part of me doesn’t believe this moment is real, that the three of us are here and we are okay. But the other part can’t help but bask in the sense of rightness that floods me.

Peaceful silence follows until my breaths are less labored and my sobbing has quieted. Boris sits up slightly, but I grab his shirt.

“I am not going anywhere, Little Fox. I just want to ask the doctor a question.”

I nod, feeling silly forneedinghim. Trauma aside, I am not normally a clingy person. Cuddly, yes. But needy, no.I really need to get a handle on my emotions right now, I’m a mess.

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