So why isn’t he helping Victoria? Does hewanthis family to die?
“I told you it was going to be an uphill battle,” he grumbles. “Sometimes we have to get worse in order to get better.”
I scrub a hand down my face as I pace the room. The plush, pink carpet is wearing thin where I’ve been pacing day after day. “I don’t want her to get worse. I want her better. I want her healthy. I want her back to normal!” I demand, slamming my fist down on the small, white vanity in the corner of the room. The painted wood cracks under the force.
“I’m a doctor, not a miracle worker, Mr. Romero,” he retorts.
“Well, you better learn how to make some miracles work here fast, Doc. You know what’s at stake,” I remind him.
His face turns grim as he gives me a sharp nod and says, “Of course I know what’s at stake.” Turning back to Victoria, he checks her temperature for what seems like the millionth time today. “I want her to get better just as much as you do. My wife and kids’ lives depend on it,” he utters solemnly.
Packing away his medical bag, he tells me, “I’ll be back in an hour to check on her again. Call me if anything changes in the meantime,” before leaving the room.
After the door closes, Victoria’s ragged breathing fills the room. She struggles with every breath, and it guts me every goddamn time.
“Fuck,” I whisper, dragging a hand through my hair. Glancing around the room, my eyes fall upon the small bookcase beside the vanity. There are tons of books here that Victoria read as a young girl. Hell, I can remember her even reading some to me when we were kids.
God, I wish I could go back to that simpler time when we were young and innocent and everything was right in the world…or so we thought anyway.
Her and I would lie outside on the grass and look up at the sky, trying to find shapes and animals inside the fluffy, white clouds.
And then Victoria would read to me. I never paid attention to the words much, though. No, I was too fascinated by her soft, melodic voice. Even back then I was in love with her. I just didn’t know what love was at such a young age.
Taking out a worn copy ofPride and Prejudice, I carry it over to her bed. Relaxing beside her and stretching my long legs out in front of me with my back against the padded headboard, I open the book and begin to read to her.
I’m not the best reader in the world, and so I stumble over some of the words. My education didn’t continue after I fled from the burning house next door. And let’s face it, I was more worried about my next meal than learning subjects like English and math.
I continue reading anyway, pushing through the harder words by sounding them out or skipping them altogether. I don’t know if Victoria can hear me, but I hope the familiar words bring her some kind of comfort.
CHAPTER 18
VICTORIA
I WAKE UP gradually, as if I’m stuck in some kind of dreamlike state. It takes a few moments for me to become fully aware of my surroundings. It’s daylight, and the warmth from the sun streaming through the sheer, white curtains feels like heaven on my skin.
It takes me a minute or two to realize I’m in my old bedroom in my father’s house. I glance at the pink walls and frilly, white curtains and realize nothing has changed since I lived here when I was a little girl.
The hell I endured is finally over, and I don’t even remember being rescued. I feel like I’ve just awoken from a nightmare, but the aches and pains of my body tell me that I was very much in reality.
I honestly feel like I got hit by a Mack truck…and then the driver backed up and ran over me again.
It hurts to sit up. Hell, it hurts to even breathe. My lungs feel weird, like they’re full and pressurized. Coughing sets them on fire, so I try to calm my breathing so I won’t trigger another cough.
I’m so happy to be out of that living hell that tears of joy leak out of my eyes. I truly thought I was going to die there. In fact, I was mentally prepared to do just that. I was ready to check out, for good.
The bedroom door opens, and I expect Marco or maybe even my father to step through it.
But the man who actually steps over the threshold has me blinking rapidly to clear my blurry vision, wondering if I’m still dreaming.
“Damon,” I manage to spit out, my voice gravelly and weak.
He stops at the sound of my voice, clearly surprised that I’m awake. “Victoria,” he utters. The sound of my name on his lips has me feeling a myriad of emotions that I just don’t want to experience right now.
I close my eyes, effectively blocking the image of him out. “How did you…how did you get in here? Does my father know you’re here?” I ask.
Damon waits until my eyes open before giving me a nod in response.
So the two of them must have been working together to get me away from Nolan Farrell. At least my father had put his pride and need for vengeance on the backburner to help Damon.
