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“It's all right, Daphne. I'm here. Just stay with me, okay? I'm going to get you some help.” I spoke reassuringly, willing her to stay with me.
We sped through the streets, my mind reeling as I tried desperately to figure out where to go.
"No, no, no," I muttered, my hands shaking on the wheel as I navigated the car out of the alley and onto the main road. My mind raced, trying to figure out our next move. We needed help, and we needed it fast. The Rogues were our only option now.
I pushed the car to its limits, speeding toward the Rogues campus as Daphne's breathing grew more labored. Every second counted, and I was determined to get her the help she needed, no matter the cost.
"Stay with me, Daphne," I whispered, my voice cracking with emotion. "We're almost there."
I'd fucked up. Beyond fucked up. I'd made deadly mistakes along the way, all in the name of queen and country. Or king and country now. It didn’t matter. She was bleeding, and she was going to die. I had no safe houses, no money, no passports. All of it was gone, and I had nowhere else to go.
I drove up to the perimeter of the property, knowing full well I was being watched from the moment I passed the tree line. But I didn't give a fuck. I stepped right up to the gate. At the camera, I looked up and put my arms out wide, the rain splattering on my face and blood dripping down in rivulets.
Blood? Was I bleeding? Had I been fucking shot too? Jesus. I glowered at my arm, noting the graze on my arm. I’d live. Daphne was more important.
It doesn't matter. Just get her inside. He'll know what to do. He has people for this. He can help. Nothing else matters as long as she lives. None of it.
The gate opened, and I jogged back to the car. Or at least I thought I jogged, but my feet were dragging so much that they disturbed the gravels on the ground. Fuck. I was going into shock.
It didn't matter as long as she lived.
My heart squeezed. I had been so wrong about her, about everything. As I careened the car up the winding drive, I could feel the edges of my vision going. Fading. I was so close, so goddamn close. I had to make it. As long as she got help, that was all I cared about.
My life didn't deserve saving. The things I'd done, the people I'd hurt, all in the name of what was best for the global good. Well, it was bullshit. The lies that we tell ourselves. The lies we were told to tell others, all of it was such fucking bullshit. And now she was paying the price. The cost of my hubris.
I thought I could have it all. I thought that I could straddle that line, but I couldn't. I drove up the drive to the house at the top of the hill, slammed the car in Park, and raced to the passenger-side door. When I yanked it open, she almost fell out, her head lolling onto my shoulder. "I've got you. You're okay."
She mumbled, "I love you."
"Shh. I don't deserve it. Come on, let's get you help."
As I was running up the stairs with Daphne in my arms, Gabe stepped out onto the veranda of Abott manor. "What the fuck?"
"I need your help. Save her. Please… I need you to save her."
38
Drake
My heart stopped as I caught sight of Saffron standing in the corner of the room, her arms crossed over her chest. I'd been waiting hours for Daphne to wake up. She’d been patched up, but she’d lost quite a bit of blood.
Gabe must have finally told his sister I was here.
With her long braids and piercing dark eyes, she embodied the word powerful. Her stance was strong, yet her face held a hint of something else—sadness, perhaps, or a suppressed anger. For a moment, I couldn't move, my feet frozen as if rooted to the ground.
She looked like a completely different person. The person I'd met years ago was barely a woman. Saffron had really grown into her role. I was happy for her.
Finally, it was Saffron who broke the spell. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice strong and clear.
I swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. "My… Daphne. She’s my… mine. She was hurt. I didn’t have a ch-choice," I stammered, my throat dry.
Saffron let out a sigh then gestured for me to move closer. “You weren’t worried I would shoot you on sight?”
All I could think of was that I had played a part in her tragedy. I never meant to hurt her; I had only wanted the truth. But now, looking at her in that moment, I knew that I had failed her. I had failed myself.
A part of me wanted to go to her, to apologize, to try to explain. But the other part of me, the stronger part, was frozen in guilt. So I just stared at her for what felt like an eternity.
My heart clenched as I saw the pain etched on her face, a stark reminder of the damage I'd caused. I could feel her eyes on me, and as much as I wanted to avoid that confrontation, I knew it was inevitable. She approached me, her steps slow and measured.
