If I couldn’t do that, then it didn’t matter how expensive my heart surgery was.
“Okay,” I whispered, my mind already whirling as I examined and discarded plans. “Let’s do it.”
My medical teamwheeled me into the OR, and I trembled with fear and loneliness. I wanted Alek to tell me to close my eyes and to hold me. I wanted Cole to call me a stupid slut for worrying and tell me everything was going to be fine because he willed it to be so. I wanted Tristan to tangle his fingers in mine and tell me the surgery would go well because I deserved it to.
But they wouldn’t.
Never again.
God, I was pathetic, lying here and aching for men who’d turned my desperation into entertainment. And I was so fucked up for wanting them back after everything they’d done to me.
Dad was somewhere beyond those doors, probably nursing his third cup of terrible coffee and pretending to read magazines while glancing at every person who walked through the waiting room. I prayed to a god I didn’t believe in that he’d be safe, that he’d still be there when they wheeled me out of surgery, that Carter wouldn’t realize what I’d done and kill us both because I’d stopped being useful to him.
And that I’d somehow find a way to pay for this bullshit once again.
“Name?” one of the attendants asked me.
“Eva Jackson.”
“What’s your birthday?”
“March third.”
“We’re working on your heart valve today. It’s aminimally invasive procedure, but we’re still going to put you under. Can you count backward from ten?”
“Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five…”
Consciousness flickered back in fragments.Voices. Beeping. The antiseptic smell that meant I was alive. I should be happy about that, right?
“Welcome back,” a soft female voice said.
I blinked sticky eyes, trying to focus, but the room blurred—another bed, a nurse I didn’t recognize, and harsh lights that made me want to lay my head back down and never open my eyes again.
“Surgery went well,” she said as she draped another blanket over me.Oh, I was shivering. “The doctors will be in to give you an update once you’re awake and alert, but you’re in good shape.”
Feeling gradually returned to me. I ran my fingers over the bandages on my chest—sutures for incisions between my ribs rather than full open-heart surgery this time. Less invasive, fewer scars, less expensive, but not so cheap that I had any fucking idea how I was going to pay for this.
The nurse bustled away, leaving me alone with the machines. Their steady beeping marked time. Every beat proved I’d survived, proved I was still here to deal with Carter’s threats and my father’s debt and the mess I’d made of everything.
I stared at the ceiling tiles, the tiny holes in each square blurring until I couldn’t count them. Somewhere beyond these walls, practice was probably starting with Cole lacing up his skates, Tristan stretching on the ice, and Alekwatching them with those cold eyes that had burned so hot when they looked at me.
Were they even wondering where I was? Did they care?
Probably not. I’d betrayed them, after all. Then, instead of sticking around to face the consequences of my actions, I walked away from the team, from my job, from their blackmail. They were probably relieved—no more complications, no more secrets to keep, no more pathetic girl begging for their attention while they used my body like a toy.
My jaw clenched. The monitor’s rhythm picked up.
I’d swallowed their cum and their degradation, and where were they now?
Not here, that was for damn sure. I lay alone, calculating how much this surgery would cost, wondering if Dad was safe, wondering how I’d survive Carter’s next move without any leverage left. Still playing everyone’s dirty games, still keeping everyone’s secrets, still protecting everyone but myself.
The rage started as a simmer in my chest, competing with the steady beat of my artificial valve.
A different nurse appeared—older, more efficient. “How’s your pain level, honey?”
“Fine.” The word came out sharper than intended.
She raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment, checking my incisions with professional detachment. “Your father’s been asking about you. We’ll move you to a room soon so he can visit properly.”
