Page 58 of Betrayed In Crimson
He gives me a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, I did.”
“Why?” I croak.
He lightly brushes my damp hair from my face. “Because Silas would do it for me. It’s the least I owe him,” he rasps.
“Thank you,” I say softly.
He places a kiss on top of my head, continuing to hold me. We sit like that in silence, just watching over Silas. I relax into him, my eyes becoming heavy, drifting off into a deep slumber.
“Well, that’s one way to wake the bastard up, with his woman curled up on your lap half naked,” I hear Clutch mutter. I blink my eyes slowly open.
“Shh, she’s fucking exhausted, let her sleep,” Cain chastises.
I lift my head, my sleep-fogged brain clearing. “I’m awake.” I yawn. I sit up, rubbing my eyes.
“Fuck,” Cain mutters. I blink and look at him as he grabs the towel that had fallen around my waist, wrapping it around my shoulders, covering me.
“Maybe you should just rest those on Silas’s face. I know I’d wake up from any coma if I thought I was waking up to those.” Clutch winks, twirling his cocktail stick in his mouth.
I roll my eyes at him, clasping the towel around me. “Sorry,” I mumble, feeling slightly embarrassed.
He shakes his head. “No bother,” he assures.
I turn my attention to Silas, still the same. Disappointment hits me, and I hope that I will turn around and see him looking at me. Or at least glaring at Cain.
“I’m going to get dressed,” I state, climbing off Cain’s lap and walking into the bathroom. I pull on a pair of grey jersey shorts and the black tank top Evelynn lent me, then walk back out into the bedroom, surprised to see the entire club standing around Silas’s bed.
“What’s going on?” I ask hesitantly.
“Hex found something we can try that might wake him,” Lucian states.
“You might want to step outside for this, sweetheart,” Marko warns.
I shake my head. “What are you going to do?” I press, fear creeping up my spine.
Lucian glances at Hex. Hex nods. “This ritual is extreme; it will break every bone in his body, tear through every muscle, burn every nerve.”
I shake my head. “No. You can’t do that. There has to be another way,” I plead.
Hex shakes his head. “It’s been five days; he hasn’t so much as twitched a finger. The ritual will heal his bones, muscles, and nerves, piece by piece. Healing him, ridding him of anything that shouldn’t be there. If there is anything of the bond, of the blood oath, left in him, it will expel it,” Hex assures.
“Then he will wake up?” I ask.
Hex shrugs. “That’s the hope.”
Hope. A small word that holds so much. I give a brief nod, leaning everything I have into that tiny word. It’s all I have.
Evelynn is sitting on the floor outside, holding a bottle in her hand. She holds it out for me. I take it, sliding down the wall to sit beside her. I take a long swig, the strong alcohol burning my throat, relaxing some of my very tense muscles.
I hand her back the bottle. “I’ve been thinking,” she states.
“Yeah?” I ask.
She drinks. “Yeah. You can’t leave.”
I take the bottle from her and drink. “And why is that?” I wheeze.
“Because you said the bar was the place where your life was destroyed, right?”
