Page 14 of Safe
My legs ached through the night, but if I admitted I might need help, it would mean dropping the facade that I was asleep. Instead, I endured the pain in stubborn silence for hours, falling asleep just as dawn began to break. Since my time in the hospital, I had grown used to getting little to no rest, but this time, I had managed an hour before the harsh light streaming through the opened curtains took it from me. I cracked open one eye to see Dr. Matthews standing beside me, checking my pulse.
"Good morning, Danielle," she greeted with her usual bright and cheerful tone. "Are you ready for your rehab?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," I groaned as I started to move my legs, rubbing my eyes and pushing myself up in bed.
Dr. Matthews checked my blood pressure before bringing the wheelchair closer for me to transfer into. "Cody will need to come with us. He'll be, well, taking care of me after I'm released."
"Ah, so this is the young man Alex mentioned," she said with a knowing look. "No need to worry. Alex filled me in, and I'll make sure Cody gets all the information he needs. He's not bad to look at either." She whispered, winking at me with a playful grin.
"Great," I sighed. "I suppose everyone knows my brother thinks I can't take care of myself. And he's not cute. It's hard to find someone cute when they're forced to babysit you. This whole situation is beyond annoying." I scooted to the edge of the bed and slid into the wheelchair with a huff.
Dr. Matthews offered a gentle smile and shook her head, completely dismissing my sarcastic tone. I’m sure she thought I was being spoiled and ungrateful, but I really didn't care. Exhaustion was killing me, and my frustration was building beneath the surface. As she began wheeling me out of the room, I reached over and slapped Cody on the leg. He jolted awake, blinking in confusion.
"Get up, Almighty Protector," I snapped. "Time to go."
Cody jumped from his chair, grabbed his sweatshirt, and followed us down the hallway to the rehab center. Even though I dreaded these sessions, I understood the importance of maximizing my time before leaving the hospital. The doctors' kindness made the excruciating pain of walking somewhat more tolerable.
Despite noticing my progress, the long road ahead felt daunting. My natural impatience made it even more frustrating that I still couldn't manage basic tasks independently. The realization of just how much I would need to rely on Cody only aggravated that frustration.
While I worked with one of the rehab specialists, Dr. Matthews took time to show Cody all my required exercises. There was some comfort in knowing most exercises could be done alone or with minimal assistance. Unfortunately, walkingwas where I needed Cody most. Nobody warns you that a broken femur means learning to walk all over again, and it was by far the most agonizing part of recovery. Every attempt brought me to tears, and most times I couldn't even complete the length of the parallel bars before having to stop.
The thought of needing Cody's help didn’t just annoy me; it terrified me. Since losing my parents, I'd built walls around myself, struggling to open up or show vulnerability, as my therapist often pointed out. Years of Landon's abuse, his constant emotional manipulation, physical violence, and mental torment had only reinforced those barriers. The last thing I wanted was for Cody to see me cry or to be in such a vulnerable state around him, knowing that I had no way of fending for myself. Not that I would need that, but my brain had not been convinced as of yet. As the morning progressed, it became clear this was one situation where my preferences didn't matter. Whether I liked it or not, I needed him.
During my flexibility exercises, I glanced over at Cody, who was focused, moving the pen fast across the notebook Dr. Matthews had given him. He documented everything in detail: procedures, repetitions, timing, proper form.
For a brief moment, I questioned my intense dislike of him. He was clearly taking his responsibility seriously, ensuring he got every detail of my rehab correct. If this didn't feel like an obligation he was fulfilling for my overprotective brother, or if I hadn't just survived a brutal assault by a man, I might view the situation differently. Under other circumstances, we might have even become friends. But that wasn't our reality, and right now, his presence was simply unbearable.
Cody attended every rehab session until my release date. With Landon still untraceable, I woke up on my final morning in the hospital feeling an intense bitterness about my new reality. It was time to shit or get off the pot, so to speak, in regardto accepting whatever may come next. Still, despite Alex’s best efforts, there was a real fear that it would all be for nothing; that Landon would find me in the end.
The idea that Landon might never be found almost scared me more than him finding me. What if they never found him? Would Alex ever let me come home? Alex and Cody arrived early to go over the plan.
"You'll leave with Cody in a police-provided vehicle," Alex explained, as if reading from a manual to just another victim. I wanted to scream. I want him to see me and take my wants into account, but I knew the alternative was witness protection.
"You cannot switch vehicles without me knowing. Got it? The car has GPS tracking in case of emergencies. No credit cards, cash only. And no personal cell phones. Use this to contact me if needed."
He handed me a burner phone, and in the same motion, snatched my phone from my lap, tucking it into his jacket pocket.
"Yours too, Cody," Alex demanded, extending his hand. Without hesitation, Cody pulled his phone from his pocket and surrendered it.
“There’s no fucking way that all this is really necessary, Alex.” I snapped at him, hoping maybe he would just give up.
Alex looked at me as pissed off as ever. “I’m sorry, do you want Landon to find you? For all we know, he’s been watching the hospital this whole fucking time. Considering that’s a possibility, Cody will need to pick you up from the loading dock in the back parking lot. A nurse and I will get you out there. I’ve given you enough spending cash for food and clothes, and things for a month. If you need more money, you call me on that phone, and that phone only, and I’ll send you more.”
So, this was really it. This was actually happening. I was about to be forced away to an unknown location, for an indefinite time, with someone who might as well have been a stranger.
"Danielle, one more thing," Alex hesitated, looking like he already had something to apologize for. "Your hair."
"What about my hair?" I asked, suspicious of what he was trying to suggest. Four years of growing it out, and I already didn't like where this was heading.
"There's money and an appointment set up at a salon in the next town. You'll need to change both the length and color. I can't risk Landon spotting you in public."
I stared at him in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding, right?" My hair had been the same chestnut brown since birth, untouched by dye or dramatic cuts. It was one of the few things about myself I actually liked.
“Alex, everything is being taken from me.Everything.I’m begging you. No.”
"I wish I were. I'm sorry, I know how much you love it, but I can't take any chances with your safety." He handed me a salon card with an appointment time and the name 'Stacy' written on it.
"Stacy?" The name came out of my mouth flat and dry.
