Page 83

Margot

Jostling wakes me up. Panic claws at me until I hear a voice I never thought I’d hear again.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s just me, your Matty. We’re home.” His voice cracks.

“Hey,” I whisper, giving him the softest smile I can manage, and nestle into his chest. He lets out a choked sound and tightens his hold on me.

The door opens, and relief fills me as my eyes land on the mansion.

Our mansion.

This is real. I’m really home.

Inside, the sound of claws clacking against marble echoes through the house. Benny barrels around the corner, tries to stop, but skids straight into the wall.

I let out a breathy laugh.

Light. I feel light for the first time in forever.

“Hey, buddy,” I say, and he’s by my side in a heartbeat .

Matty lowers, still cradling me, so Benny can sniff me over. He starts at head, working his way down to my toes. I must reek, but he doesn’t seem to care. He circles around us, inspecting every inch of me, and finally settles with his head on my lap.

I lift a shaky hand and place it on his head. He closes his eyes contently.

“He’s been waiting for you,” Matty murmurs. “Checked the door every time it opened. He was just as destroyed as I was. We kept each other company, but… nothing filled the void.”

“You were destroyed?” My voice is barely a whisper. I’m not even sure he hears it.

But after a few moments, I look up and see his eyes brimmed with tears.

“Margot… my sweet girl. You were gone. Taken . Because of me. I knew you were suffering. I couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep. I was a wreck. All we did was search. Every second you were gone we were looking for you. I’m sorry it took so long. I’m sorry they took you. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“We?” I ask.

“My brothers and I. The whole fucking Syndicate.”

Benny’s low whine interrupts us, and Matty stands.

“Let’s get you in bed. The doctor’s on his way.”

“No. Shower first.” I whisper. “Please.”

I can’t relax. Not until I wash all of it away. I need to feel clean, human.

Matty hesitates, but when he meets my eyes, he sighs and nods. He heads for our bathroom.

He shuts Benny out, but my poor puppy lets out a whimper and scratches the door.

Matty opens the door wide enough to tell him, “Stand guard.” I laugh at the absurdity, until Benny actually does, sitting tall and alert, watching the hallway like a soldier .

Matty carries me into the bathroom and lowers me gently on the rug, leaning against the tub.

He undresses quickly, his tactical gear off in seconds, and I can’t help but notice how good he looks in it. Even after everything, I still see him. Still want him.

He kneels and carefully helps me out of the shredded, ruined gown. I stare brokenheartedly at it on the floor. It was once a symbol of our freedom, our magic night. Now it’s just a reminder of everything we lost.

Matty’s eyes scan me, but there’s no lust in them. Only sorrow.

I glance down at myself. My body is a map of damages. Bruises. Dried blood. Dirt. Pale, thin, wasted skin. My bones jut where curves used to be.

“Oh, my sweet girl. I’m so, so sorry.” He whispers, lost in his thoughts.

I don’t respond. Not because I’m angry, but because I know anything I say will be brushed off. He needs to see I don’t blame him.

“Can you stand, sweetheart?” he asks.

I try, but my legs buckle instantly.

He catches me. “Okay. I’m going to hold you in the shower. You won’t have to stand at all. Does that work?”

I nod.

He carries me into the shower cradled in his arms and turns on the water. He waits until it’s warm before stepping under the spray.

With one arm wrapped tightly around me, he detaches the sprayer with the other and rinses me. Then he replaces the sprayer with my shampoo and pours a generous amount on my head. He massages my hair, carefully working it into my scalp. I almost drift off under the warmth of his touch .

He rinses and repeats, then conditions just as I taught him.

He lathers a loofah and begins to wash my body, slowly and tenderly.

“Again,” I murmur when he stops.

“Of course, sweetheart.” He kisses the top of my head and begins again. And again. And again.

On what must be the sixth round, I give him a small nod.

I finally feel clean.

He steps out, dries me off, and dresses me in a pair of his boxer briefs. They hang loosely on my hips, and I hear him sigh in defeat.

He wraps me in his thick robe and lays me on his side of the bed.

After dressing quickly, he returns to my side.

“What do you need? What can I get you? The doctor will be here soon.”

I pat the mattress beside me.

He climbs in without hesitation and pulls me into his lap.

I fall asleep in his arms.

***

The door opens, waking me.

Matty’s voice is soft as he whispers in my ear, “The doctor’s here, sweetheart.”

A throat clearing draws my gaze. An older man with white hair and kind eyes steps into the room.

“Hello, Margot. I’m Dr. Anderson. I’m the doctor for the Syndicate. I’m here to check you over.” His voice is full of warmth. I instantly trust him.

An idea pops into my head. I glance at his ring finger. Empty.

Maybe he and Dotty would hit it off…

“Hi,” I greet softly.

“I briefed him on what I knew,” Matty says. “We don’t know what she’s been through. She’ll tell us when she’s ready. I want every inch of her examined. I want her healthy. Healed.”

“Matthias, boy, I’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been alive,” Dr. Anderson replies, gently but firmly. “Now step out so I can examine her.”

“No!” We say in unison.

My heart races. He can’t leave.

I just got him back.

If he goes… I won’t be safe.

“I won’t leave her side,” Matty says, steel in his voice.

“You don’t want to hear this conversation,” the doctor warns. Then he turns to me. “Margot, if you’d prefer privacy, I’ll make him leave. Your comfort is my priority.”

“No. Please don’t make him go. I need him. He keeps me safe,” I plead.

“Some exams will be intrusive,” he warns. “You’ll need to be honest. If there’s anything–”

“No one raped me,” I whisper.

Matty exhales. “Oh, thank fuck.”

He presses a firm kiss to my hair and pulls me in closer.

“Matty, please don’t leave me.” I beg.

“Never, sweetheart. I’m never leaving you again. Fucking never.”

The exam is thorough. The results are just as I expected.

Everything will heal. I’ll be fine.

But I know Matty needed to hear it from a professional. He needed that confirmation.

He only lets go of me when absolutely necessary and picks me back up the second he can.

“When’s the last time you ate, dear?” Dr. Anderson asks.

“The gala,” I admit .

“Fuck! That long ago? It’s been a week!” Matty curses.

“A week?” I blink. I hadn’t realized.

“Yes, sweetheart. It’s Saturday.” He’s right. That explains why I’m so weak.

“They starved you,” he growls.

“No. They gave me food. One meal a day. I just refused to eat. It was all I could do to fight.” At the time, it felt brave. Now it feels foolish.

“My stubborn girl,” he murmurs with a slight upturn of his lips. It’s the closest thing to a smile I’ve seen from him since the gala. “Even in hell, you’re still a spitfire. I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too,” I whisper back.

He exhales and kisses my hair again, resting his lips there like a promise.

“Start her off with crackers and electrolytes,” Dr. Anderson says. “We’ll use an IV to start hydration. Food too fast could shock her system. She’ll gain the weight back in four to six weeks. Patience, it’s a slow road.”

“I understand. Leave the list with Dotty,” Matty says.

“You’ll be okay, dear,” Dr. Anderson tells me after he hooks up the IV. Matty flinched when the needle was inserted in me. “Call me if you need anything.” Then he leaves.

I let myself drift off again, but Matty gently shakes me.

“Sweetheart, do you think you can eat some crackers before you doze off?”

I shake my head. Even the thought of food makes me nauseous.

“Okay, but next time you wake up, you need to eat a little something. You’ll feel better after the fluids replenish you.”

“Please don’t leave,” I murmur.

“Never. I swear to you, Margot. Never again.”

His arms wrap tighter around me.

And I fall asleep in the safest place in the world.