"We've missed you so much!"
"Are you feeling better?"
The voices came from all directions, well-meaning but overwhelming in their enthusiasm. I saw Cade's eyes widen, her breathing accelerating as she was suddenly surrounded by people. Her hand in mine became clammy, her nails digging into my skin.
"Give her some space, lads," Logan commanded, his tone brooking no argument. The boys immediately backed off, but the damage was done. Cade's face had gone chalk white, her eyes darting around like a cornered animal's.
"I... I can't," she whispered, so quietly only I could hear. "Too many... I can't..." Before I could react, she wrenched her hand from mine and bolted, pushing past the startled housemen and racing up the grand staircase. I heard her footsteps pounding down the corridor, followed by the slam of a door and the decisive click of a lock.
"Cade!" I called after her, already moving to follow.
"Ryder, wait," Logan started, but I shook my head, cutting him off.
"I've got this," I said firmly. "Get them out of here. All of them. Clear the entrance hall, the main rooms. Make sure no one follows us upstairs." Logan nodded, understanding immediately.
"Go. We'll handle it."
I took the stairs two at a time, my heart hammering against my ribs. Fuck. We should have anticipated this, should have known that coming back to a house full of people would be too much for her after everything she'd been through. I cursed myself for not thinking ahead and for not ensuring the entrance was clear when we arrived. I reached her door and pressed my ear against it, my stomach dropping at the sound of muffled sobs from within. Gentle but firm, I knocked on the door.
"Poison? It's me. It's Ryder. Can you open the door?" The crying paused for a moment, then resumed, slightly quieter but still heartbreaking.
"Please, just go away," she choked out between sobs. "I can't... I can't see anyone right now."
"I know," I said softly, leaning my forehead against the door. "I know it's too much. I'm sorry, Poison. We should have made sure the house was empty when we arrived." I paused, listening to her ragged breathing. "I can make them all leave, right now. Just say the word, and I'll clear the entire house. It'll be just us, just you and me and Logan and Cole. No one else."
There was a moment of silence, broken only by her hitched breathing. Then, in a voice so small it made my chest ache, she said,
"You can't kick people out of their home."
"Watch me," I replied, a hint of my old cockiness sneaking into my tone. "I'm a Regent, remember? I can do whatever the fuck I want. They can sleep in the street for all I care." A sound escaped her that might have been a half-laugh, half-sob.
"You're terrible."
"I know," I agreed, relieved to hear even that tiny break in her distress. "But I'm serious, Poison. Just say the word, and everyone's gone. This is your home too, and your comfort matters more than anyone else's right now." Another pause, longer this time. When she spoke again, her voice was thick with tears but steadier.
"I'm scared to be alone," she admitted. "But too many people... it's too much. They're all looking at me, and I can feel their pity, and I just... I can't breathe." My heart broke a little more at her words. I understood completely. After Lexington, after what they'd done to me there, I'd felt the same way, terrified of being alone with my thoughts, but equally terrified of being surrounded by people who knew, who looked at me differently, whose eyes held that awful mixture of pity and morbid curiosity.
"I get it," I said gently. "I really do. How about this? I'll make sure the common areas are cleared out, so you don't have to face anyone when you come downstairs. But I won't leave you aloneunless you want me to. I can stay right here, just outside your door, all night if that's what you need."
The silence stretched so long I began to worry she'd shut down completely. I was about to speak again when I heard movement from within the room, the soft pad of bare feet approaching the door. She didn't unlock it, but I could sense her presence just on the other side, and could almost feel her warmth through the wood.
"Would you really?" she asked, her voice small but clearer. "Stay outside my door all night?"
"In a heartbeat," I promised, without hesitation. "I'll sit right here and talk to you if you want, or just be quiet so you can sleep. Whatever you need." Another long pause. Then, to my surprise, I saw movement at the bottom of the door, her fingers, small and pale, sliding into the gap beneath. It was such a vulnerable, trusting gesture that for a moment I couldn't breathe, couldn't move.
Then, slowly, careful not to startle her, I knelt down and extended my own fingers, sliding them under the door until they met hers. The contact was minimal, just the barest brush of fingertips, but it felt monumental. Like a bridge across a vast chasm, a tiny connection in the darkness.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice closer now, as if she too had knelt on the other side of the door.
"Always," I replied, meaning it with every fibre of my being. "I'm not going anywhere, Poison. Not ever again." We stayed like that, fingers touching beneath the door, for what felt like hours. Eventually, her breathing evened out, the occasional hiccup of a sob fading into the steady rhythm of sleep. But I didn't move, didn't withdraw my hand. I settled more comfortably against the wall beside her door, prepared to spend the night right there on the hardwood floor.
Logan appeared at the end of the corridor, his expression questioning. I shook my head slightly, warning him to keep his distance. He nodded in understanding, then held up his phone, indicating a text message. I carefully extracted my free hand and checked my own phone.
Logan:
House is clear. Rosa's staying in the kitchen wing. Housemen are confined to their rooms for the night. Everything okay?
I typed a one-handed reply:
