Page 33 of The Pawn
I stop walking and hold my hands up, palms to her. “It’s me. It’s Cassian. It’s all right. You’re safe.”
She furrows her brow, moves to sit up, winces when she presses her bandaged hand to the bed.
“Let me help you,” I say.
“Don’t touch me,” she snaps.
I stop, taken aback by the sharpness of her tone. I watch her sit up, groggy.
“My brother. Where is he?” she asks, and I wonder if she remembers that he’s dead.
“His body is at the morgue.” There’s no way around this and I hope to God she remembers.
She nods, looking distant. “We need to bury him,” she says calmly and I’m relieved. “The family will want to pay condolences.”
“When you’re ready. We can do something small.”
She shakes her head. “It’s tradition. The church, then we’ll?—”
“It’s okay, Allegra,” I say, coaxing her to relax. “I’ll arrange everything as you want it when you’re ready. Now you need to heal.”
“But… He’s dead. They’re all dead.”
“I know, babygirl. I know.”
It’s silent for a long moment before she speaks again. “No more needles,” she says. “I don’t want to be sedated again.”
“It was meant to help you sleep. To rest so you could heal.”
She rubs her face, looks up at me and shakes her head. “You don’t get it. I’m not resting. I’m just trapped in there. I can’t wake up.” Her eyes fill with tears, but she is quick to swipe them away, angry suddenly. Angry is good. It can be strength. Fear will cripple you. Make a victim out of you. It’s the last thing she wants. I know that.
My fuck up made her into exactly that.
My fuck up left her vulnerable to my enemies.
“Amal and Daniel are safe,” I tell her, hoping that will help.
“Where are they?” she asks, looking relieved at least momentarily.
“With their grandmother in Florida.”
“Grandmother? I didn’t know they had any living grandparents.”
“Malek’s mother, apparently. They’ve been estranged from what I learned.”
“And they’re safe? You’re sure?”
“I don’t think he’d hurt his children. Anyway, I have men watching the house.”
“Can’t you just get them?”
I shake my head. “They’re safer away from here, Allegra.”
She considers this then nods. She looks down at her hand which she’s cradling.
“There’s medicine for the pain,” I say. “You just need to eat a little something first.”
“I’m not hungry.”
