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I woke up a few minutes ago from what felt like the deepest sleep I’ve had in my entire life. I’m curled up on my side in my bed, which, after two weeks of sleeping like a starfish on my back feels like heaven, by the way.
My bed.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever be back here again. I mean, I hoped, but I wasn’t sure.
After the guys got me dressed in the extra sweats they had in the back of their car and bandaged up any obvious cuts that were still bleeding, they loaded me into Ronan’s car, and we came straight home.
They asked if I wanted to go inside and shower before we left. Enzo and Dante offered to clean up the blood from Logan before I went back in, but I told them I couldn’t bear to step foot back in that cabin ever again. I was worried about stinking up the car on the way home, but none of them said a word about it. I just laid in the back seat, my head on Mac’s lap while he stroked my hair, and slept the entire way home.
I knew they all wanted to be in the back by me, but I could tell that, at that moment, Mac was the one who needed me most. I knew that having his hands on me would ground him in some way.
We got back to the apartment in the early hours of the morning. I thanked Dante and Enzo, who left when we arrived, saying they needed to meet with the rest of their team, who apparently left before we got back. I made a quick mental note to thank them properly later for helping save my life.
Not more than five minutes after we got up to the apartment, a doctor was brought upstairs to examine me from head to toe. Only two of my cuts needed stitches, one on my foot and the one on the back of my head from the first night I tried to escape that has refused to close on its own. On top of being severely malnourished and dehydrated, I have two broken ribs, a fractured cheekbone, and a sprained ankle. After Finn got me into a bath and cleaned up, he dressed me in the warmest clothes he could find. Once he got me into bed, the doctor hooked me up to an IV and gave the guys a plethora of vitamins I’m supposed to take for the next couple of weeks to get all of my levels back where they should be. Besides that, he gave me a referral to his wife, who’s a therapist who specializes in trauma, and told me to get plenty of rest, which is exactly what I’ve been doing.
I slept most of the day, only waking up here and there. Yet every time I woke up, at least one of them was in the room watching me. Never asleep, just watching. Like if they took their eyes off me for even a moment, I would simply disappear.
The last time I woke up, I ate some pancakes that Mac made for me because he knows breakfast for dinner is my favorite, and drank a cup of warm tea to help soothe my throat from all of the crying. When I laid down to go back to sleep, the sun was just starting to set, and now, judging by the warm glow peeking through the curtains, it’s just beginning to come up. Which means I slept all night, I haven’t been able to do that in weeks.
None of them filled me in on all the details of how exactly they found me or what Declan’s plans for me were. I knew it was because they didn’t want to cause me panic when I was already in such a fragile state. But they told me Logan was gone when they got there and had no idea where he was. It burns me to know that he’s still out there somewhere, conspiring with Delcan to get me back. However, I’m not ashamed to admit I’ve got a sick sense of pride knowing he’s at least in pain. Pain that I caused. Just like the pain he inflicted on me.
Over the last two weeks, I honestly wondered If I would ever see Mac and Finn again, let alone Ronan. I wasn’t sure I would ever have the chance to escape.
But I did.
I got out.
And now I’m here . . . with them.
I’m dying to know what exactly Declan wants with me, and I know they’ll tell me when I ask them to. But, for now, I want to bask in the ignorance that everything feels okay. I’m back with them; my wounds will heal, and everyone is safe.
I roll over to my other side to see which one of them is in my room, and I find Ronan sitting on my chaise, watching over me, wearing nothing but a pair of black sweatpants. The scruff on his face is longer than he usually keeps it, his black curly hair looks disheveled like it does when I run my fingers through it, and his eyes, now the color of the deepest seas, look utterly exhausted.
“Hmmm. Good morning. How long have you been in here?” I ask him.
“Most of the night. I told Mac and Finn to get some rest. They didn’t like it, but they did it.” The corners of his lips turn up, but I can tell it’s not genuine.
“They could have stayed in here with me.”
“We didn’t want to risk climbing in bed and scaring you.” I know what the underlying meaning of that statement is. Besides when they found me and when Finn bathed me, none of them have touched me. I know why.
“You could never scare me.” I mean that with every fiber of my being.
He looks away from me, and I watch as he swallows hard, curling his hands into fists as they rest on his thighs. I pull back the comforter on the side of the bed closest to him, opposite where the IV pole stands. “Come here, Ronan.” He looks back at me as if he’s confused by my demand. “Come lay with me.”
Slowly, he stands from his spot on the chaise and climbs into bed, laying down so he’s facing me, but not touching me. I pull the covers over him and drape my leg over his, letting him know that I’m okay with him touching me.
Thankfully, he accepts the invitation and scoots closer. I lift my head up slightly so he can slide one arm underneath it while he caresses my cheek with the opposite hand. We lay there like that for a while, staring at one another, his thumb moving in slow circles across my cheekbone.
I can tell by the way he’s clenching and unclenching his jaw that there’s something he wants to ask me, and I know exactly what it is. They weren’t in the room when the doctor did my full exam. The doctor figured I would be comfortable giving him all the details if the guys weren’t hovering over me. When he asked me if I was raped, I let out a thankful sob before telling him ‘no’ because I know I easily could have been. And I don’t know how I would have come back from that.
I’m just about to put Ronan out of his misery when his deep Irish accent finally breaks the silence, “I’m so, so sorry, Baby.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Ronan. None of this is your fault.” I mean that wholeheartedly. The three of them didn’t cause this. That heinous man who calls himself my grandfather is the only one responsible—well, Logan, too.
“I–I let him take you. He took you, and I couldn’t stop him. And t-then we couldn’t find you, and you were gone for such a long time.” A lone tear rolls down the apple of Ronan’s cheek, and I swipe it away with my thumb, careful not to let anything catch the IV still attached to the top of my hand. Granted, I haven’t known Ronan long, but in the time I have, he’s become a part of my soul. Just like I’m part of his. I know when he’s hurting, and right now, even though I’m back and in his arms, his hurt is more evident than ever. “I swear to you, Harper, I will kill all of them. Anyone that had a hand in taking you from me, from us, will die.”
Now it’s I who lets a tear fall, which feels like all I’ve been doing since they found me in the woods. I should be startled at the violence of his words, but I’m not. Because, as twisted and messed up as it makes me, I want that. I want them to face Ronan, Mac, and Finn’s wrath for taking me. So all I do is nod and whisper, “Okay.”
