Darlia’s birthday is in three days. I had promised myself I would find a way to make it special for her. Originally, I had planned on taking her out to the barn so she could see what I was doing while she was in The Academy, but that will have to wait for now.
Has Darlia ever even had a birthday? That’s not something The Academy would celebrate.
“How’s she doing?” Bella interrupts my thoughts, walking into the room like she didn’t just climb thirty-two flights of stairs. Show off. I bet Darlia would’ve done the same, even teased me for being out of breath. Gods, I want to hear her voice so bad, even if it’s just to yell at me.
If she uses her voice only to hurt me, they will still leave the most beautiful lips.
“Alive,” I say, sitting up and moving over so Bella can sit down on the bed beside Darlia.
“This is going to break her. You need to be there for her. Lauren was her best friend.”
Well the fuck aware.
Who does she think I am? I think I know more about Darlia than she does. Darlia is many things, but open is not one of them. Not with anyone else, anyway. I only know so much from her Academy files and the details I’ve managed to piece together through our conversations.
“She wouldn’t have done it unless her life depended on it. Darlia would never ever hurt Lauren. I watched it myself on the mat, she would tell Lauren how to hit her so Lauren could win the fights. She wanted Lauren to live.”
“I know,” I say, shutting down her thoughts instantly. I don’t mind Bella. She’s Darlia’s friend and for that reason wherever I am, she’s welcome. But telling me shit I already know about my girl is pointless and just annoying me, considering how fucking tired I am.
I know Darlia would never hurt Lauren. I don’t think she wanted to kill anyone, at least not anymore. Not after finding out the truth.
“My clothes are in the wardrobe, can you change her?” Not waiting for a response, I grab Darlia’s hand and squeeze it gently before leaving the room. By the time Bella is finished, Darlia is in my sweatpants and a hoodie.
It’s probably one of the first times she’s been allowed to wear something so comfortable, and the thought makes my heart clench. “You should go be with Marcus, he needs you and Darlia needs rest. Thanks for changing her.”
I’m trying to be polite, I really am. But I have spent a month looking for her only to find her on the brink of death, and I just want some time alone with Darlia, safe and sound in my arms.
“Yeah, keep her safe.” Bella walks out of the room and closes the door behind her. The second we’re alone, I walk into the wardrobe, grab the standard grey jumpsuit and change into it, throwing the bloodied clothes I was wearing on the floor before getting into bed beside Darlia again. I always made Marcus leave a spare change of clothes in the apartment just in case. I never thought I would have to bring Darlia here. But I refuse to make her be around anything from the new order ever again. She can have my clothes and I’ll wear the new order bullshit.
“Rest, love. I’ve got you.”
?
Darlia has been asleep for three days. Today is her twentieth birthday.
I don’t even think she knows that. We have set up a mini base in the apartment; all the boys sleep on the couch or mattresses on the floor. Everyone has agreed Darlia gets the bed considering her injuries and me, by extension.
Marcus went back to my house to get me some clothes and weapons, since we didn’t have any here. The apartment is full; Bella, Marcus, Weston, Luke, and Caleb all sit in the lounge, waiting on any update on Darlia.
Her breathing has evened out, her breaths becoming fuller, steadier. She’s finally out of the woods as long as she continues to rest. And if I know Darlia, the second she wakes up, that will be the last thing she wants to do.
Darlia doesn’t even know the other boys. She met Luke once in the subway when I had first become her target. She doesn’t know that this apartment is filled with survivors of the new order and The Academy.
Darlia doesn’t know she’s safe now. Truly safe.
I want them here, I need them all here. Darlia’s not going to trust anything I tell her at the moment, but I need her to understand I’m not the bad guy. And god only knows what they’ve put in her head over the last month.
Filling up an apartment full of men she’s never met before probably isn’t the best idea while Darlia’s at her most vulnerable, but it’s for her safety, and her reassurance. And mine, after all. She’s my deadly girl.
The bedroom door opens, and as if on cue, Darlia takes a shaky step out towards us, confusion clear as day on her face. I don’t hesitate, walking to her side and picking her up bridal-style, close to my chest.
“You’re supposed to be resting.”
“Where are we?” Darlia’s voice croaks, the words barely a whisper.
Shit, when did I last change her fluids? “You want some water, love?” She nods, curling into my chest with a soft hum of agreement.
Carrying her into the kitchen, I place Darlia on top of the counter, filling a glass with water and bringing it to her lips, letting her take small sips.
