Like when she’d been trying to escape her cell in the basement and managed to bring the ceiling down with her, it felt like she hung in the air, weightless, with nothing tying her down to the earth.
It would be so easy to float away, but unfortunately, there would be no flying away, the only place she was going was down.
Then, right when she was positive it was too late, that nothing could save her, the car suddenly shuddered and stopped moving.
Instead of dropping, she was suddenly moving higher.
Too tired to figure out what was going on, Rose let her eyelids flutter closed. Maybe she really was moving down, and her brain, maxed out on pain and adrenaline just didn't know what was happening.
Did it really matter?
If Ridge was dead, it was over. Steel and the others would be free to live their lives however they wanted. He didn't need her now, and honestly, she wasn't even sure what that meant for her.
When she’d been with Steel at his mansion, she’d believed in his possessiveness, believed that he meant it when he demanded that she acknowledge she was his. Hell, she’d believed it in the car when she was arguing with Ridge.
But now …
Now she wasn't sure what would happen if Ridge were dead. If he wasn't, then she knew Steel would follow through on his threats to keep her as his prisoner until he’d used her to get what he wanted.
Maybe death wasn't so bad.
“Rose.”
The insistent voice prevented her from sliding fully back into the darkness. She liked it there, it was quiet and peaceful. There was no pain, no anxiety, there was nothing but … nothing.
After living a lifetime with someone trying to control your every move, your every thought, your every breath, being nothing was infinitely appealing.
“Come on, little ladybug, don’t give up on me,” Steel’s insistent voice ordered, only she wasn't sure she had the power to do as he wanted.
Wasn't sure she had the power to do anything but slip off into sleep.
Beautiful, blissful sleep.
The vehicle she was in suddenly rocked, like it had been jarred, and she was tipped forward a little again. Beneath her, it felt steadier, no longer like she was hanging in the air, about to plummet to certain death.
Hands were on her, but since she knew they were Steel’s, she didn't fight them. Just lay there and let him grab her and maneuver her out of the little space she was curled up in.
“She’s shaking,” Steel said, panic in his voice.
“Hypothermic,” Voodoo said. While the healer’s voice was calmer, she could sense a thread of fear in it as well.
Was he worried Steel would kill him if she died?
Surely, he had to know that Steel wouldn't actually kill any of the men he thought of as his brothers.
He couldn’t be worried about her … could he?
“Do something,” Steel insisted, and she felt herself settled on his lap. Someone must have passed him a blanket because something soft was tucked around her, and it was only then that Rose realized she really was shaking. Violently.
Even though she wasn't sure where Steel’s head was at, and what he was going to do with her going forward, a part of her insisted she do something to soothe his panic. Attempting to say his name, all she managed was a moan, and the arms holding her tightened painfully.
The pain helped to ground her a little, though, clearing away some of the cobwebs.
“Fix her,” Steel ordered, and the way he said it was so insistent that it amused her, and she huffed a small chuckle and managed to open her eyes.
“I don’t need fixing,” she rasped, her voice feeling weak just like the rest of her.
Dark eyes snapped to meet hers, and she felt rather than saw his relief. It was too dark to see much of anything, but Steel’s face was right above hers, and the way a puff of warm air caressed her skin told her more than being able to see him clearly ever could.
