Page 29 of Bleed with Me

“You can’t know that,” I whispered, my heart thundering in my chest so hard it physically hurt. I blinked rapidly, forcing my eyes to adjust to the darkness more, but I couldn’t see much, only tall shadows and the occasional star breaking through the clouds.

“Listen.” Lucas halted my erratic, almost panicked movements, but all I could hear was my ragged breathing and racing heart. “Nothing,” he muttered, lifting the mask off his face. He held a tiny flashlight in his healthy hand but didn’t dare to turn it on. “It’s our chance to disappear.”

“Where?” I asked in a hushed voice, following him deeper into the woods. I did my best to avoid branches and tree trunks, but with my limited vision, I almost fell face-first several times.

“I parked your truck on this side of the forest,” he disclosed, navigating us confidently, but I still doubted he knew where we were heading.

“Are you sure?” My voice sounded like a five-year-old’s whine, yet I was functioning solely on survival instinct.

This was millions of times worse than training with Grandpa. He should have staged at least one exercise where someone shot live ammunition at me. Maybe then I wouldn’t have been seconds from peeing my pants.

“Positive, don’t worry,” Lucas whispered, taking my hand and leading me through the night.

After several more minutes of stumbling through the woods, we reached a clearing, and the shape of my old Toyota appeared ahead. Relief washed over me, and I let out a deep sigh.

I quickly helped Lucas inside and climbed into the driver’s seat. The engine roared to life, disturbing the forest’s quiet, and I pressed the gas pedal down. I wanted to be as far from Malin and Zyon’s claws as possible.

“We have a problem, Nina,” Lucas said after a couple of seconds of silence when only the humming of the engine was heard. I snapped my head toward him, expecting him to show me a hidden injury like in movies, but no. He held a folded piece of paper, frowning at it.

“Speak,” I prompted him, squeezing the steering wheel.

“He didn’t sign it,” Lucas mumbled, groaning in pain mixed with annoyance. “The fucker didn’t sign it.”

I slammed on the brakes and snatched the paper from him. My signature sat at the bottom, but Dorian’s line held only one lonely letter.

D.

“Fuck.” I lifted my eyes to Lucas. Even with his full signature, proving the marriage would have been difficult. Without it, I was screwed.

“Fuuuuuuck!” I screamed, slamming my palm against the steering wheel until it hurt more than my shattered heart over my destroyed dreams.

It was pointless. We went through all of that for a useless piece of paper. We nearly died for a letter D.

Fuck!

-19-

Dorian

Idrifted in and out of consciousness several times before reality finally settled. The white ceiling dotted with tiny LED lights looked familiar. So did the scent of disinfectant mixed with pine air freshener and the view of the illuminated Starlight building beyond the enormous window.

I was in the VIP suite of my own hospital.

Scowling, I looked to my right at a console that housed essential medical equipment and a discreet call button. But before stretching my arm toward it, I noticed the needle in my arm and fluids dripping into my body.

Fuck, how long was I out?

My mind was surprisingly clear, so I would say I’d slept for a couple of days. But if they still pumped me with fluids, what the hell did ma vilaine inject into my system?

Pushing myself up, I sat on the comfortable bed, staring at the bag on the hanger. A date was written there, but the handwriting was terrible. I couldn’t tell whether I was looking at a six, an eight, or a nine. Someone needed to go back to school and learn how to write properly.

The sound of high heels echoing in the hall interrupted my indignation, and I turned my head toward the door just in time to see the knob twist and my mother walk in. My brows shot up in slight surprise that she was in the hospital because she hated this place, but I instantly cast her my best smile. She looked elegant as always in a black dress, her makeup flawless despite the exhaustion carved beneath her eyes.

“Oh, finally,” she exhaled, rushing inside. She placed a plastic cup on the desk and hurried to the bed. Without any warning, she hugged me tightly, almost squeezing the air out of me. “I was so scared, so freaking scared.”

“I’m okay, Mom,” I whispered, leaving her to have a motherly moment. I had witnessed countless times how extremely affected parents were when something bad happened to their kids. And my mom was no different, even though she tried hard to keep a strong front.

Wrapping my arm around her slim form, I rested my chin against her slender shoulder. Her familiar jasmine perfume soothed me instantly, just as it had since childhood, and I closed my eyes while she thanked God and other entities for returning me in one piece as if they deserved the credit.