Page 65 of Ravaged Soul

The feel of Axel’s hands on my face cuts through years’ worth of conditioning, giving me the chance to claw my way back. Piece by piece. Cell by cell. Retaking control of my brain is a monumental effort, muddled by pain and trauma.

“It’s okay, Em. Tom is safe. Everyone’s alive.”

When I peek at Axel, he’s crouched in front of me, blurred movement zipping all around us. All I can see is his wide ember-like eyes, lashes thick against fear-filled honey.

“Still want to save me?” I whisper brokenly.

“No need. I was wrong. Sometimes… rage does have its place.”

CHAPTER 9

HYLAND

WILL YOU LOVE ME WHEN I’M DEAD – AMIRA ELFEKY

My gripon the phone tightens, aggravation pouring from every part of me. Why does co-parenting have to be so goddamn complicated? I’m putting the past aside. I just wish Jayce would do the same.

Hyland: I’m not cancelling Luke’s visit for the hell of it. There’s no need to create an argument.

Jayce: An argument? The news is reporting every hour on Sabre Security’s latest cock up. A fatality! Luke clearly isn’t safe with you.

Frustration blows from my nostrils.

Hyland: It was an active operation. Everything is under control. Bring Luke over next week.

Silence. She’s ignoring me now.

Hyland: Please.

My short nails drum against the phone case as I wait.

Jayce: I’ll think about it.

Fine. I’ll take that over a straight-up denial.

At the sound of the nearby door opening, I tuck my phone away to greet Doctor Richards. He emerges from the ICU’s quiet room with a frown, wrinkled beneath his coif of silvery hair. I swear, the old dinosaur is fucking immortal.

Arms folded, I tap my foot impatiently. “Well?”

“Good afternoon, Hyland. Pleased to see you too.”

“Give it up, Richards. Did she talk to you?”

Positioning his leather satchel on his shoulder, Richards skates a hand down his floral shirt. It’s another particularly ugly number, the lurid-yellow flowers stark against sky-blue fabric. I’m convinced he dresses in a dark room each morning.

“No.” He sighs.

“Shit. This isn’t good.”

“Ember wants to be here with Tom right now. I’d suggest you appease her.”

I move farther down the wipe-clean linoleum that lines the corridor in case Ember’s listening from behind the closed door. Richards follows with another world-weary sigh. I don’t know why he’s so tired; it’s not like he’s been awake for over thirty hours straight like we have.

“She tore through five men using nothing but a foldable switchblade to gut them,” I hiss out. “It’s a miracle she wasn’t more badly injured.”

“I’m aware of the situation.”

“And?”