Bella walks through the door, holding a set of scrubs that look anything but comfortable. The paper rustles as she holds them up, showing the material to me, but we have to work with what we have, and we have to leave. Now.
“I’ll step outside if you don’t mind changing her?” I’m already walking towards the door, not waiting for her response.
I may not be a stranger to Darlia’s body, but every time I’ve seen it, she has been in complete control of everything.
I don’t plan on taking that control from her today.
Closing the door behind me, I look up to see Weston, Marcus, Luke, and Caleb all standing around the hall, guns slung over their shoulders. “She’s stable. Bella is changing her, then we’ll move.”
Exhaustion is finally catching up to me. My legs are aching to collapse, my hands trembling from the amount of caffeine I’ve been having. The weeks of not sleeping or eating properly are finally coming to kick me in the ass. But I won’t pass out, not until Darlia is safe.
All I want is for her to be safe.
“You can come in,” Bella calls out from inside the room. Opening the door, I stop when I see Darlia in the light blue paper scrubs. I wonder if this is what they kept her in all this time. The jumpsuit was clearly new, the manufacturer folds still in the fabric. She hadn’t been wearing it that long, maybe a day at most.
My hands bunch into fists at the thought of keeping her in something that will haunt her. The quicker we leave, the quicker I can get her changed.
I slowly lift Darlia up into my arms with one hand under her legs, the other under her back, carrying her out of the room. Unlike when I came in, I’m slow, precise. I take my time walking down the stairs, careful not to shake her too much.
As we exit, I turn my back to the broken glass window frame we walked through so that if anyone gets cut, it’s me.
When we finally get out of the hospital, I sit in the back of the Jeep Caleb and Western drove here, holding Darlia in my lap close to my chest and buckling us in together, putting the seat belt under her arm so it’s not hurting her. I rest my chin on her head, inhaling the dirt, blood, and everything else she’s been through, but also that smell that’s distinctly Darlia.
My Darlia.
“Where to, Cayden?” Marcus asks, jumping into the driver’s seat, knowing I wouldn’t want to take her back to my house. It’s not safe for her there anymore, The Academy proved that. I’m willing to bet they’re there waiting for us to return just so they can take her again.
“Do you still have that apartment?” I ask Marcus. He doesn’t respond, but he puts the car into gear and starts driving off.
Darlia continues to sleep in my lap, unknowing that she’s free. All I want to do is wake her, kiss her, apologise over and over and hold her until she doesn’t hate me anymore and the world is no longer a scary place to her. But for now, keeping her safe where no one from The Academy will find her is my priority.
“Park a few blocks away. They may recognise the car from the hospital, especially if they are monitoring the cameras. I don’t want anyone knowing where she is.”
Marcus drops me and Darlia outside of the regulated apartment complex, using the cover of a truck parked outside to sneak inside without the cameras seeing. Only once we’re inside does Marcus take off and lead the new order away if they’re watching on the cameras.
Marcus’s assigned apartment is on the 32nd floor, and of course the elevator just had to be out for maintenance the one time we need it. I’m not as gentle going up the steps this time.
I’m strong, sure, but I am going to need a minute after carrying Darlia up thirty-two flights of stairs on fuck all sleep or food, and on the brink of passing out.
I take the steps two at a time, making sure to read the level signs as I keep going up, taking a break every few floors before starting again.
It could be worse. Marcus could have been assigned level 50 considering every apartment complex has fifty levels. I guess I have one reason to be grateful. Not that I am grateful to the new order for anything.
I’m going to kill every single one of them for what they did to Darlia.
By the time I reach level 32, I am huffing and puffing, my body slick with sweat. I walk to Marcus’s apartment using the keypad to open the door before walking Darlia inside and laying her down in the bedroom.
The second she’s safe in the bed, I collapse beside her, trying to catch my breath.
Darlia looks so beautiful, so peaceful.
She starts to stir slightly, her mind probably still foggy from the drugs. I pull her in close to me, wrapping my arm around her waist, careful not to disturb the gauze or bandage on her stomach.
“Shhh, darling, you’re safe, I’m here. You’re safe.”
I know when she wakes I’ll have to talk to her about Lauren, but for right now, she can be safe in my arms. The guilt is going to eat Darlia alive, and I won’t let her break because of it.
I refuse to let her go through hell and back, just to break now.
