"She was...?" I couldn't finish the sentence. Bass nodded once, his eyes darkening with old rage.
"Yes. By the same family, in fact. The McIntyres have a long history of violence against women." The name hit me like a physical blow. McIntyre. Damien's last name. I'd never connected it to anything beyond him, never considered he might be part of a larger pattern of evil.
"Damien's family?" I whispered, my voice cracking.
"His father and brother," Bass confirmed grimly. "William and Alec McIntyre. They held Lily captive in the same bunkers where we found you." The room seemed to spin around me, the walls closing in as I struggled to process this information. The same bunkers. The same family. This wasn't random; this was something generational, something inherited. Damien had followed in his family's footsteps, continuing a legacy of torture and abuse.
"I think that's enough for now," Ryder interjected, noticing my distress. He moved to my side, not touching me but close enough that I could feel his warmth. "Cade's had a long morning." Bass nodded, backing off immediately.
"Of course. I didn't mean to overwhelm you, Kid. I just wanted you to know that you're not alone in this. There are people who understand, who've been through similar hells and come out the other side." I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to centre myself.
"Did you... did you kill them? The ones who hurt your wife?" The question hung in the air, loaded with implications. Bass met my gaze steadily, no hint of evasion in his dark eyes.
"Alec died during Lily's rescue," he said, his voice emotionless. "William was sent to the Hole. He'll never see daylight again."
“The Hole?” I looked between Ryder and Bass.”What’s the Hole?”
“It’s a place where the Trivium puts people they want to disappear,” Bass said, his tone serious.
"And Damien?" I asked, my voice barely audible. "Have they found him yet?" Bass's expression hardened.
"Not yet. But we will. I promise you that, Kid. I have my best people on it. We will find him, and he will pay for what he's done to you." The conviction in his voice was absolute, leaving no room for doubt. For the first time since my rescue, I felt a flickerof hope, not that I would ever be whole again, but that perhaps justice might be possible.
"Why did you and my grandfather stop speaking?" I asked the question falling out of my mouth without thinking. "What happened between you?" Bass's expression shifted, a flash of old pain crossing his features before he controlled it. "That's a long story, Kid. And not mine, so not one I can tell." I wanted to press him, to demand answers, but exhaustion was creeping over me, dulling my thoughts and making my limbs heavy. The emotional toll of the morning had drained what little energy I had.
"I should let you finish getting ready to leave," Bass said, noting my fatigue. "Just wanted you to know I'm overseeing your security personally. Nothing like this will ever happen to you again. Not on my watch." The promise should have comforted me, but I'd heard similar assurances before. The Regents had sworn to protect me, yet I'd spent six weeks in hell. My trust in protection and safety had been shattered, along with everything else.
"Thank you for coming," I said instead, unable to express the complex emotions swirling within me. Bass nodded, understanding in his eyes.
"I'll see you soon, Kid. Try to rest."
He turned to leave, but paused by the door and looked over at Ryder before meeting my eyes again.
“You’ve got a good one here, Kid,” he said, and I swear I saw Ryder grin for a second before he schooled his face again. Bass smirked as he saw it as well. “They all are good guys.” Then he looked pointedly at Ryder, “They have to be, because if they aren’t, they will have me to answer to.” Ryder nodded his face solemn, but I could see the strain from trying not to grin again. Bass turned again and left the room, closing the door with a soft click.
The room fell silent again, heavy with unspoken questions and the weight of new revelations. I stared down at the discharge papers in my lap, the clinical diagnosis now seeming even more inadequate. This wasn't just about me, about what had been done to my body. This was part of something larger, darker, a pattern of evil that stretched back through generations.
"I didn't know you knew Sebastian Lynch," Ryder said finally, breaking the silence. His tone was carefully neutral, but I could sense his curiosity.
"He used to visit my grandfather when I was younger," I replied, my voice distant as memories surfaced. "They would disappear for the day, then come back for dinner. I never knew what they did together." Ryder nodded, processing this information. Then a wicked, slow grin crept onto his face. “And you used to have a schoolgirl crush on him, did you?” My face immediately flushed red. Bass had teased me so much when he found out I was infatuated with him.
“No,” I protested, but even I could tell I wasn’t convincing anyone. Ryder laughed, and for a second, I felt almost normal as he leaned in and whispered.
“If it makes you feel better, Poison,” he murmured, my heart skipping a beat for reasons other than fear, “I still have a schoolgirl crush on him.” My eyes widened at his words, and he winked and moved back to the bag.
“Wait, what?” I asked, and Ryder winked again.
"Lynch is... well, he's not someone to cross. But he's good at what he does. I have been a fan of his… work for quite some time now." I shook my head and smiled. Seeing the childish gleam in Ryder's eyes was a welcome change from everything going on.
"Are you ready to go?" Ryder asked gently, gesturing to the packed bag. "Or do you need more time?" The question landed me right back into reality. Ready? How could I ever be ready tostep back into a world that now seemed filled with threats from every direction? How could I be ready to return to Covenant House, to the place where I'd been manipulated, controlled, and ultimately betrayed by the very men who now claimed to be my protectors? But the alternative, staying in this sterile hospital room with its endless parade of medical professionals and investigators, was equally unbearable.
"I want to leave," I said finally, my voice stronger than I felt. "I can't stand this place anymore."
Ryder nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Then let's get you home."
The motorway stretched ahead of us like an endless ribbon, the winter landscape blurring into shades of grey outside the windows. I'd lost track of how long we'd been driving; time had become a strange, fluid thing since we'd found Cade, since we'd brought her back from that hellhole. All I knew was that London was now far behind us, and with each mile that passed beneaththe wheels, we drew closer to Regents University, to Covenant House.
Cole drove with quiet concentration, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. Logan sat shotgun, his phone clutched in his hand as he fired off messages to God knows who, probably Lynch, or his father, or Killingham, coordinating security measures for Cade's return. I hadn't bothered asking. I couldn't focus on anything but the weight of Cade's head against my shoulder, her body curled into mine in the backseat.
