Page 26 of Fallen Empire (The Fallen Trilogy #2)

Savannah

I woke to the low murmur of voices near the foot of my bed, one calm and professional, the other tense but familiar.

Jaxson.

My lashes fluttered open just as the nurse was jotting something on her clipboard. Jaxson stood beside her, arms crossed over his chest, that ever-present furrow between his brows deepening with every word the nurse said.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” I murmured, my voice raspier than I expected.

His head whipped around, and just like that, the tension cracked. “Hey,” he said, moving to my side in two long strides. “You needed it.”

I tried to sit up, but my body protested. Everything ached in that dull, post-trauma kind of way—like my muscles were still waking up from whatever horrors they’d carried.

The nurse smiled. “We were just discussing your discharge options.”

Discharge. Already?

I blinked at the word, my brain struggling to connect the idea of leaving with the body that still felt like it had been stitched together with panic and pain.

“Now?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Jaxson moved closer, brushing a strand of hair off my forehead with a tenderness that nearly broke me.

“Not today,” he murmured, his voice soft but steady. “Maybe in the next few days. When your body’s ready. You still need some therapy here first, just enough to make sure you’re strong enough to go home.”

Home .

The word echoed in my mind like a question I didn’t know how to answer. Because I wasn’t even sure where home was anymore. Not really.

Was it the Penthouse at The Murray, the very one I’d been taken from while in my own room, my so-called safe place? Was it back in Alabama, now that I was finally free from Bruce and the threat of my life dangling in the air?

Or was it here, in Manhattan, with Millie? She was the closest thing I had to family now.

Jaxson spoke, bringing me to the present. As if he had read my mind. “You won’t be alone,” he said quietly, no hesitation. “I won’t let you go home without help. I’ll be with you day and night if I have to. If that’s what you want.”

A soft laugh escaped me, dry and tired. “You have a multi-million-dollar business to run.”

He didn’t even blink. “None of that matters when you need me.” His words settled over me like a promise I didn’t yet understand. Surely it was pity. Maybe guilt.

But deep down, I wanted to believe it was more.

More than duty.

More than the scars or the headlines or the weight of what I’d survived.

Because if this— he —wasn’t my home, then what was?

The Penthouse didn’t feel safe anymore. Alabama didn’t feel like me anymore. And for all my pretending, neither did the version of myself that used to exist before the war broke out inside my body.

I wasn’t that girl anymore. I didn’t want to be.

But I hadn’t figured out who I was now either.

Maybe that’s why I couldn’t let go. Why I needed him close.

Because Jaxson didn’t flinch when he looked at me.

And if there was any version of home left for me in this world…

He was it.

I’d offered my life on a silver platter to save his. That kind of sacrifice sticks to people—wraps around them like obligation.

It didn’t mean he wanted me.

The scars my body already carried were bad enough. But now?

I didn’t even want to look. Didn’t want to know what new damage had been carved into me beneath this hospital gown. What new proof existed that my body would never be mine again.

So instead, I turned my face to the window and let the silence stretch between us. It was easier than letting him see the way I was starting to come undone. Easier to stare at the morning light and pretend the world outside was still spinning the same as before.

A soft voice broke through the quiet. “Okay, dear, do you think you can try to sit up?” Nurse Ruth asked, stepping closer with that calm, no-nonsense smile.

I blinked, trying to hide the nerves rippling through me. Sitting up sounded simple. Ridiculously simple. But after everything my body had been through, even breathing too deep still hurt.

Still, I nodded. Because I couldn’t let them see the pain. Because if it ended up just being me again when this was all over… I had to know I could survive.

Ruth gave me a soft smile, the kind that said she wouldn’t tolerate bullshit, even if I tried. “Good girl.”

Jaxson stepped forward, but Ruth lifted a hand. “Let her try first. You can play knight in shining armor in a minute.”

He smirked, but stepped back. His hands flexed like it physically hurt not to touch me.

I braced myself, gripping the sheets, and slowly pushed upward. Every muscle trembled. My ribs screamed. My thighs burned like they’d been torn apart and barely sewn back together. But I kept going, inch by inch, Until I was upright.

Breathless. But upright.

“There we go,” Ruth said gently. “I’d call that a win.”

But all I could think was—this was just the beginning. If sitting up felt like surviving a war, what the hell would standing feel like?

Would it feel like that needle I’d sterilized with a flame before pushing it into my own skin—makeshift stitches closing one of the gashes Bruce left behind?

Or worse?

Jaxson was beside me the second Ruth stepped away, his hand bracing my lower back like he couldn’t stand the distance a moment longer.

“You good?” he asked, voice low, as if afraid talking too loud might knock me back over.

I nodded again, slower this time. “Yeah,” I whispered. “Just… give me a second.”

He didn’t say anything. Just stayed close, his palm splayed against my spine, thumb moving in slow, grounding circles.

“I can try to stand,” I added, surprising even myself.

Ruth raised a brow from the foot of the bed. “One step at a time, sweetheart. We’ll get you there, but not today. Today is about reminding your body that it can still move. That it’s still yours.” With that, she turned to leave.

Her words hit something soft and raw inside me. Because it hadn’t felt like my body in a long time. It felt like a battlefield. A crime scene. A canvas of scars that told stories I didn’t want to remember.

But now, for the first time, maybe it could also be something else.

Maybe it could be mine again.

I glanced around the room taking it all in. “Where’s Millie?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “She went home to shower,” he said gently. “Tried to act like she wasn’t hovering, but I think seeing you awake gave her the green light to breathe again. Hopefully she’ll sleep in her own bed tonight.”

A wave of guilt tightened in my chest. “She should.”

“She needed it, Savannah,” he added, reading the shift in my expression. “She’s been camped out here for days. Haven’t seen her in anything but leggings and dry shampoo since Monday.”

That tugged the corner of my mouth. “Sounds about right.”

“Plus. She’s been a pain in my ass. If you hadn’t come back to us, I’d probably end up putting her in a grave right beside you.”

It was brutal. Honest. “What?”

“I’m joking. Kind of. Millicent has been an entirely different person without you around. I’m not sure I could handle her.”

I thought back to the conversation I’d had with Millie earlier.

It was almost like she’d been waiting—like she’d held it all in just so she could tell me the moment I woke up.

About her parents. About the pain she’d kept locked tight behind that polished smile.

And I couldn’t help but wonder if that was all…

or if there were even deeper wounds she still kept buried.

The kind too heavy to name. The kind you carry alone because you think no one else could possibly understand.

Maybe my trauma was helping her heal, too.

And the truth was, I’d be fine with that.

She was the strongest person I knew. She saved me when I came to Manhattan, without even knowing I needed to be saved.

Without asking for anything in return. Just showed up, like she always does. Like I know she always will.

I looked back at Jaxson. He hadn’t said anything in a while, just watched me like I might disappear again. Like if he blinked, I’d vanish.

His eyes dropped to my arm, then slowly rose to meet mine.

“You hungry?” he asked, his voice low, tentative. “I was going to order something earlier, but you were asleep.”

My stomach rumbled at the suggestion, but I hesitated. “Not sure I can keep anything down yet.”

“I’ll get something light,” he said, already pulling out his phone. “Soup. Crackers. Whatever you’ll eat.”

There was no pressure. No push. Just quiet patience. Presence.

“Jaxson?” He looked up. “You don’t have to stay.”

“I know I don’t have to,” he said softly. “But there’s nowhere else I want to be.”

A lump swelled in my throat. “Thank you.” It wasn’t nearly enough. Not for him. Not for Millie. Not for Ben. Because they’d found me. Because of them, I’m alive.

“Jaxson…” I hesitated, the words fragile on my tongue. “Can you tell me what happened? That day. How he got me, and… how you found me?”

His jaw tensed, that same guilt flashing behind his eyes like lightning behind glass.

“He got to you… because we were too confident he wouldn’t.”

He exhaled slowly, rubbing his palms over his jeans like the memory had lodged itself in his skin.

“You’d just gotten home from the hospital.

I’d planned on staying the night, but we got into an argument—you were upset with me.

Ben had left to grab a few things from my place.

I fell asleep on the other side of your door. I never heard anything from inside.”

His voice dropped, edged with quiet frustration. “It took less than an hour.”

I didn’t breathe. I closed my eyes, trying to jog my memory. I’d kicked him out. Said I needed space. Asked if I’d be safe with him and Ben on standby. God, the guilt he must have carried.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I whispered, but he didn’t acknowledge it.