"Always," he said softly. "Rest now, Poison. I've got you."
As sleep pulled me under, I clung to that promise, desperate to believe that I was truly safe, that the nightmare was over. But even as consciousness slipped away, a small, terrified part of me whispered that this was the dream, and the cold, dark cell was the reality waiting to reclaim me. The last thing I felt was Ryder's thumb stroking gently across the back of my hand, a rhythm as steady and reassuring as a heartbeat, guiding me into the darkness.
I'd lost track of how long I'd been sitting in this same uncomfortable hospital chair, watching Cade's chest rise and fall with each shallow breath. The nurses had come and gone, checking vitals, adjusting IVs, their movements careful and practiced around her sleeping form. Each time they touched her, no matter how gently, her body tensed, even in sleep. It was likeher nervous system had been rewired, programmed to expect pain with every human contact.
Hours had blurred together since she'd fallen asleep clutching my hand. I hadn't moved, hadn't let go, hadn't even fucking blinked for too long. Every time her eyelids fluttered or her breathing hitched, I leaned forward, ready to anchor her to reality if the nightmares pulled her under again. The room was dim, the soft beeping of monitors creating a rhythm I'd memorised. Beep. Beep. Beep. Each one confirming she was still here. Still alive. Still breathing despite everything those fuckers had done to her.
My mind was a hurricane of thoughts I couldn't control. Guilt sliced through me like razor wire. We should have found her sooner. I should have found her sooner. Six fucking weeks she'd been in that hellhole while I'd been staring at screens, searching for any sign, any clue. Six weeks of her suffering while I'd failed her over and over again.
"I won't fail you again," I whispered, my thumb stroking the back of her hand. Her skin was paper-thin, blue veins visible beneath the surface. "I swear to God, Poison. I'll burn the whole world down before I let anyone hurt you again." She stirred slightly at my words, her forehead creasing with tension before smoothing out again. Even in sleep, she wasn't at peace. I wondered if she ever would be again.
The door opened with a soft click, and I tensed instinctively, my body coiling with protective energy before I registered who had entered. Logan and Cole stepped into the room, both freshly showered, their hair still damp. Logan's eyes immediately fixed on Cade, cataloging every visible injury, every monitor, every IV line. His jaw was clenched so tight I could see a muscle jumping beneath his skin.
"Has she been awake?" he demanded, his voice low but urgent. "Has the doctor been in? What did they say about her injuries? Has anyone from the police been here yet? Did Killingham send any updates on the manhunt for Damien? Has-"
"Fucking hell, slow down," I said, cutting him off. "She's been in and out. Mostly nightmares. The doctor came by about an hour ago, said her vitals are stable, but she's severely dehydrated and malnourished. There's evidence of..." My voice caught, the words sticking in my throat. "Of repeated sexual trauma. Multiple contusions, a couple of cracked ribs, and infected lacerations. Burns. And they think the brand on her back is infected, so they have put her on antibiotics." Each injury I listed felt like acid in my mouth. I watched Logan's face darken, his eyes going cold and deadly in that way that reminded me why the Bale family was feared across the criminal underworld.
"The police?" he pressed.
"Trivium's handling it," I replied. "Keeping local law enforcement out of it. Lynch assembled a team at Ivory Crest to process the scene. They've got four men in custody, but no sign of Damien yet." Logan nodded sharply, running a hand through his damp hair. His gaze never left Cade, like he was afraid she'd disappear if he looked away for even a second. I understood the feeling. I hadn't taken my eyes off her since her grandfather had left.
Cole remained by the door, unusually quiet. His eyes had a wild, haunted quality to them that sent a chill down my spine. I'd seen Cole angry before and had even seen him violent, but this was different. This was the look of a man who had stared into the abyss and was ready to drag others down with him.
"Cole," I said carefully. "You good?" He didn't respond, just continued staring at Cade's bruised face with an intensity that was almost frightening. Logan glanced back at him, concernflashing across his features before his attention was drawn back to the bed as Cade stirred.
Her eyelids fluttered open, unfocused at first, then widening with panic as she registered the presence of more people in the room. Her hand clutched mine with surprising strength, her breathing accelerating into short, panicked gasps.
"It's okay," I soothed, squeezing her hand gently. "It's just Logan and Cole. You're safe. You're in the hospital. You’re still here." Recognition dawned in her eyes as they darted between Logan and Cole. Her lips parted, trying to form words, but all that came out was a choked sob. Tears spilled down her cheeks, tracing paths through the fading bruises.
"Hey, Princess," Logan murmured, moving closer to the bed but stopping short of touching her. "We're here now. You're safe." She nodded, still crying silently, her body trembling with the effort of containing her emotions. I wanted to gather her into my arms, to shield her from everything, but I knew better than to make sudden movements. Instead, I held her hand, my thumb tracing circles on her skin, a silent reminder of my presence.
A knock at the door shattered the fragile moment. Cole's head snapped toward the sound, his body tensing like a predator ready to strike. Logan moved instinctively to position himself between Cade and the door, his stance protective and threatening. Dr Reynolds entered, his expression grave but professional. Behind him stood a man I didn't recognise, tall, with salt-and-pepper hair and the unmistakable bearing of Trivium enforcement.
"Miss Turner," Dr Reynolds said, his voice gentle. "I hope I'm not interrupting. I wanted to introduce Mr Timothy Calder. He works for the Trivium internal investigation unit and would like to ask you a few questions, if you're feeling up to it." Loganstepped forward, physically blocking the man's approach to Cade's bed.
"She's been through enough," he growled. "Your questions can bloody wait." I watched Cade's face, saw the conflict there, fear warring with a desperate desire to get this over with. Her fingers tightened around mine.
"It's okay," she whispered, her voice hoarse and broken. "I want to... I need to tell someone. Before I can't anymore."
The raw courage in those simple words hit me like a physical blow. After everything she'd endured, she was still fighting, still determined to face the horror head-on. Pride and anguish twisted together in my chest, making it hard to breathe. Logan hesitated, then stepped aside, though his expression made it clear he was doing so against his better judgment. Calder approached the bed, his movements careful and measured, as if he were approaching a wounded animal.
"Miss Turner," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle for a man with such a hard face. "I understand this is incredibly difficult. I'll keep my questions as brief as possible, and we can stop at any time. Is that acceptable to you?" Cade nodded, her hand still clutching mine like a lifeline. Calder pulled a chair to the foot of the bed, maintaining a respectful distance that I silently approved of.
"Can you tell me what you remember about being taken?" he asked, his tone clinical but not unkind. Cade swallowed hard, her throat working visibly.
"I was walking down the street," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "After the fight with Logan. I got a call from Ryder." Her eyes flicked to me briefly. "Then a van pulled up beside me, and two men jumped out." She paused, her breathing becoming shallow and rapid. I squeezed her hand gently, reminding her of my presence.
"It’s okay," I murmured. "Take your time."
"They grabbed me," she continued after a moment. "I tried to fight, to scream, but one of them hit me over the head. Everything went fuzzy after that. I remember the van moving, being cold, voices talking around me, but not to me. Then nothing until I woke up in... in that place." Calder nodded, his expression giving nothing away.
"And what do you remember about where you were held?" Cade's body tensed, her eyes taking on a distant, haunted look that made my stomach clench with fury.
"It was a cell," she whispered. "Small. Concrete walls and floor. No windows. Always cold. So cold." A violent shiver ran through her body at the memory. "It smelled of urine and... and worse things. There was a thin mattress on the floor, stained with... with things I didn't want to think about." My jaw clenched so hard I thought my teeth might crack. The mental image of Cade in that filthy cell, alone and terrified, made me want to put my fist through the wall. Logan's face had gone completely blank, his defence mechanism when his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. Cole remained by the door, his breathing audible in the quiet room.
"They stripped me," Cade continued, her voice hollow now. "Took all my clothes. Said I wouldn't need them anymore. That I belonged to them now. To him." Her voice broke on the last word, and fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. "They didn't feed me much. Just enough to keep me alive. When I fought too hard, they wouldn't feed me at all." Calder nodded again, his pen moving across his notepad. I wanted to rip it from his hands, to stop this inquisition that was clearly tearing Cade apart. But I also understood the necessity of it; we needed to know everything if we were going to hunt down every last person involved and make them pay.
"Miss Turner," Calder said, his voice still measured and calm. "I know this is difficult, but I need to ask about what happened while you were there. What do you remember about your captors?" The question hung in the air like a guillotine blade. Cade's hand went limp in mine, her eyes glazing over as if she was retreating into herself. For a moment, I thought she might shut down completely. Then she took a shuddering breath.
