15
Iwatch Wren as she sleeps, still too fragile and pale for my liking. Cleaned and clothed now, she doesn’t resemble the girl I lost in the club. There is something different about her. The trauma of what happened doesn’t appear to have hit her yet but you don’t go through what she did and come out of it with your mind in one piece. I am waiting for the time it hits.
I know it will. With an absolute certainty. She is not built for this, not yet anyway, she may be with time, but right now, she is still the same girl I took from her apartment all those weeks ago.
There are purple and blue bruises mottling her skin, too many cuts and grazes to count, swollen limbs and stitches with white bandages covering the wounds. She is lucky to be alive.
After eating plenty she fell into a quick sleep, exhausted but it was good to see a little fight in her.
I take the syringe of antibiotics and insert it into the canular the doctor inserted into the top of her hand, administrating the medicine followed by a dose of painkillers that should keep her asleep for a little while. She’ll hate me for it but I’ll take it if it makes her better and keeps her safe.
Reluctantly, I slip from the room and close the door behind me, motioning for two of my guys to station themselves outside the door. I wasn’t taking any chances. Keeping them here wasn’t to keep her in the room, more to keep anyone who wasn’t meout.
I take the stairs down quickly and find Ryker in the kitchen, his hands cradling a tumbler of whiskey whilst he hangs his head as if exhausted.
“What the fuck is wrong with you!?”
“That chick is batshit,” he huffs, throwing back his drink.
He was referring to the blonde Kingston so lovingly deposited on my doorstep a few hours after bringing Wren to me.
Aurora Barrett.
If Kingston is to be believed, she went through some shit back at Valentine’s compound, and the only reason she is alive is because of my little bird. Something I’ll be having words with her for when she is well enough to hear them.
I knew the girl was important to Wren, you don’t sacrifice yourself for someone you don’t know but then this is Wren, so fuck knows what she would do.
“Can’t handle a little blonde?” I taunt, grabbing the bottle and pouring myself a drink before handing it back.
“She needs help.” He says seriously.
“I don’t have time for this shit,” I growl at him, “I want Valentine’s head.”
“How is she?”
“Alive.”
“Have you set up your meeting with Heart?”
“He’s headed back to London for now but he’ll be back next week,” I sigh.
Whatever he wanted he was keeping it locked up tight. Kingston Heart, in his own right was a man not to be fucked with, he didn’t scare me, not even a little but he had power. I recognized it, like for like, after all, recognize one and other.
It wasn’t important right now.Shewas.
I’ve had men out, searching, tearing this city apart looking for Valentine or his men but it’s like the man has disappeared yet again. The Syndicate are radio silent but this war is far from over.
Whilst Valentine licks his wounds the Syndicate are looking for another way to destroy my city.
No leads, no answers, no anything.
Everything was out of my control.
And I hated it.
I wanted blood.
I wanted pain.