"I think Miss Graves could use a few more days," he replied, his tone carefully neutral but firm. This Beta had a backbone.
Disappointment crashed through me, making my shoulders slump and my mouth downturn. I tried to recover quickly, standing tall and nodding like I agreed with the surgeon. I wasn't trying to rush Lucy before she was ready, but I needed her away from this place. I needed her back home—where the bullshit bedroom was now transformed into something beautiful. I wanted her to see the king size bed and the soft comforter. I wanted to see the kind of life we’d give her in the future.
By now, my brothers and I knew every detail of Lucy’s past. Every hospital. Every drug. Every surgery.Every time she’d almost died.We'd read the documents her parents signed, giving Lucy over to Omega Protection Services. We’d read her blog, pouring over the forced cheerfulness there as she tried to give other sick people hope.
Knowing Lucy on paper wasn’t the same as knowing her in person.
She wasn’t a diagnosis.
When the doctor finally left, I returned to my chair and pulled out the small piece of wood and my knife, resuming my carving with careful, measured strokes. The repetitive motiongave my hands something to do besides punch walls or gather Lucy into my arms and simply run. As I moved the blade, tip creating a new channel, the image of Lucy on the gurney, flagpole sticking out of her small body, rushed through my mind. It’s a sight I’d never forget.
"You shouldn't have gone in there," I said quietly, mostly to myself.
“What?” Lucy’s sweet voice floated to me.
I glanced up, finding her stunning eyes staring right at me.
I swallowed, deciding if I wanted to repeat myself. I’d sounded sullen and ungrateful, whispering under my breath.
“I said you shouldn’t have gone in after me, Lucy.” I spoke clearly. I meant every word.
She gave me a strange look.
“It’s easy to take risks when dying myself isn’t scary. But—” Lucy drew in a breath and rushed her remaining words out as if she was scared to say them— “you dying does scare me. Any of you dying terrifies me.”
Her words hurt and healed me simultaneously.
52
LUCY & FALLON
{Five days later}
Release day.
LUCY.
This better not be a dream, because I can’t stay in this place for one more minute.
For a few days, I’d been terrified they’d have to use a wound vac. Thankfully, for once in my damn life, my body cooperated. I mean, seven days had stretched into fourteen days and then that became nineteen days. I was leaving now though, and that was all I cared about.
“I’ll give you some privacy to chance, Lucy. Unless you think you need some help?” The nurse hovered, waiting for my answer.
“I think I can manage.” I smiled at her.
When she left, I stood up from the chair and moved slowly over to the bed where a pair of soft blue sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt waited. I traced my fingers over thesoftness of the set. New, the tags still on, not stained discards from a trash bag. Which of the men had picked this out? Beneath the blue clothing was a small pack of underwear and a pair of socks. Pristine sneakers—bright white with gold and navy trim—sat against a far wall as well, patiently waiting to be worn. I wanted to slip my feet into those immediately, because when I did, it would mean walking out of this stupid room.
Slowly, I slipped out of the gown and the disposable mesh underwear, exchanging them for the items on the bed. The clothing felt buttery against my skin. I hugged myself, enjoying the feel of the material. This had to mean something, right? That they’d given me something new and comfortable to wear? I wondered though, if all their recent kindness was done out of guilt. It would break my heart if they still planned on rejecting me, hoping for a stronger, more suited Omega. I shook off the worry, determined to stay positive. If my Alphas didn’t want me, I’d survive. I had to.
Still, the idea I’d be alone again, made my legs feel weak. I sat down on the bed so I wouldn’t fall.
There wasn’t much to pack before leaving, just a novel Fallon said was his favorite, a few toiletries, and Nitro’s gift. I smiled over at the carving. He’d kept his secret until the very end, setting the miniature woman down on the hospital table proudly. I wasn’t sure how he’d managed it, but she really did look like me. I walked over and grabbed the book and the wooden figure, one in each hand, and hugged them against my body.
My stomach tightened with a mixture of relief that I was leaving the hospital and dread over what reception I’d get at the DemonX compound.
“Don’t okay, Lucy?” The nurse’s voice grounded me before I could spiral.
“I’m fine,” I called out. “All dressed.”
