I floored it. I kept glancing at him, my pulse thudding in my throat.
He was recovering.
Thank fuck.
“We’ll be home soon,” I whispered, not sure if I was reassuring him or myself. “Just a few more minutes.”
He didn’t open his eyes, but his fingers found mine across the console. His touch was weak, as if he was reaching through static.
I drove faster. Streetlights streaked past. His breaths evened out. His shoulders slowly unknotted. By the time I turned onto the quiet road leading to the mansion, something inside me unlocked. Relief. Terror. Adrenaline that wasn’t even close to crashing.
I parked crookedly, killed the ignition, and rested my forehead on the steering wheel, breath shaking.
“We made it,” I whispered.
Cristian inhaled deeply, the tension in his body easing notch by notch. When he finally opened his eyes, they looked clearer. Whatever had hurt him was starting to fade.
“We did,” he murmured. “Thanks to you.”
Then he blinked, testing his strength, rolling his shoulders, straightening in the seat.
I watched him, wide-eyed. His recovery wasn’t gradual—it was abrupt. Wrong. Like someone had flipped a switch inside him.
His brows drew together, troubled. “This is… strange.”
“What is?”
“How quickly the weakness left.” He flexed his fingers, studying the movement. “The pain was overwhelming. Then… nothing.”
A chill ran down my spine.
“So, that’s not normal?” I said quietly.
His expression darkened with worry he didn’t bother to hide. “Whatever they used on me—it was meant to incapacitate, not kill.”
Cristian’s strength returned in measured beats.
By the time we were out of the Corolla and up the walkway, he was upright, steady, fully himself again. Relief hit me so hard my knees went weak.
“That scared the absolute shit out of me,” I said, pressing a hand to my chest. “But I’m really, really glad you’re okay.”
He turned toward me, studying my face like he was memorizing it. “I am fine now,” he said softly. “But you?—”
His jaw tightened.
“You were afraid.”
“Of course I was afraid, Cristian. You were—” My voice cracked. “I thought something awful was happening to you.”
His gaze dropped to my hands, still shaking slightly.
“My only thought,” he said slowly, “was that I was failing you.”
My breath caught. “Failing me?”
“Yes.”
He said it simply. Softly. As if it were truth carved in stone.
