“I was trying to figure out how to ask you to come to Truckee with me.”
Her eyes widen.
“My family’s home is secure,” I continue, the words coming easier now. “Garlen and Ellie are there — you’d have other people around, not just me. We can coordinate with law enforcement on Aldridge from there. You’ll have your own room and you can recover somewhere safe while we work on taking that asshole down.” I reach up, brush a strand of dirty hair from her face. “And I can be there, with you, in the room next door.”
“Yes.” She doesn’t hesitate. “Okay. Yes.”
A smile widens across my face.
Finally,we’re in California.
We land at another private airfield, and there’s a car waiting to take us to the hospital. I carry Sloane again — she could probably walk short distances, but I don’t want her to. And she doesn’t argue.
The emergency room staff take one look at her and fast-track her into a private room. Kelt made calls ahead. There are benefits to having a family with resources.
I stay with her the whole time. They start with her feet, which are worse than she admitted with deep lacerations and earlysigns of infection. They give her IV antibiotics and proper wound care.
Then the doctor wants to examine the rest of her.
Sloane requests for me to remain because she doesn’t want to be separated from me. I stand by the window when the nurse helps Sloane remove what’s left of her shirt for the full exam. And I shouldn’t look, I know I shouldn’t, but I have to know the extent of what they did to her. I glance over and see bruises on her ribs, back and arms. Mottled purple and yellow, some fresh, some fading. Evidence of beatings over multiple days.
Something cold and deadly settles into my chest.
“Mr. Irontree?” The nurse is looking at me with concern. “Are you alright?”
A growl rumbles in my throat before I can stop it. I clench my fists, trying to control the rage flooding through me. My vision has gone red at the edges. “I need a moment,” I rasp and walk out of the room before I break something.
In the hallway, I lean against the wall and try to breathe. They beat her for twelve days while I was making calls, assembling teams and planning logistics. While Ryan fucking Krychek declined involvement. She was alone in that pit, being beaten, being starved, thinking no one was coming for her. If Aldridge were in front of me right now, I would tear him apart with my bare hands.
The rage doesn’t fade, exactly, but I force it down and lock it away. Sloane needs me back in that room with her and calm right now, not murderous. There will be time for vengeance later.
When I return, she’s watching the door. Relief flickers across her face when she sees me. “Hey,” she says quietly.
“Hey.” I return to her side, take her hand. “Sorry. I just needed a minute.”
“They look worse than they feel,” she offers.
“Don’t lie to me, Sloane.”
A small smile tugs at her lips. “Okay. They hurt like hell but I’m alive, and I’m out of that pit, and you’re here. So I’m calling it a win.” She squeezes my hand, then glances down at herself. The grime is still visible on her arms and neck despite the medical team’s attempts to wash her and clean her wounds. Her hair is matted and tangled, stiff with twelve days of filth.
“Jonus.” Her voice is small. “I need a shower. I can’t—” She stops, swallows hard. “I can still smell that pit on my skin. I need to wash it off. All of it.”
“Yes,” I agree. “I’ll talk to the nurse.”
It takes some negotiating. She’s hooked up to an IV, her feet are bandaged, and the medical staff isn’t thrilled about the idea of her standing in a shower. But Sloane is insistent, and I’m persuasive, and eventually we reach a compromise: a shower chair, plastic wrap over her bandages, and a nurse stationed outside the bathroom door.
I station myself outside the bathroom door too. Just in case.
Steam curls out from under the door. I lean against the wall, listening to the sound of running water and try not to think about her in there, naked and vulnerable and washing away the worst twelve days of her life.
My phone buzzes with a text from Aldar.Lucy wants to know her sizes.
I frown at the screen.Sizes?
Clothes. She can’t leave in a hospital gown. Lucy is coordinating.
Of course she is. I shake my head, smiling slightly despite everything. Lucy Rodriguez has been coordinating this entire operation from three thousand miles away, and apparently she’s not stopping now that Sloane is safe.
