Page 149 of Healed

She stopped her pacing and came to sit on the end of my bed. “I know you don’t. I know the thought of leaving this room terrifies you. I know that. But I also know what happened to Kitty when she gave in to the pain. She spent nearly two years rotting in bed, Gabby. She was gone long before her body gave up. She mentally checked out. I don’t want to see the same thing happen to you. So if I have to be the bad guy and push you, then I will, okay? If you need to hate me for forcing you, then that’s okay. I’ll accept it. But I won’t accept you giving up. I can’t.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and I reached out to hold her hand.

She squeezed back and nodded, sniffing quietly. “I’m not asking you to go far. If all we do today is make it downstairs for an hour, that’s progress. Maybe tomorrow we can do two hours. But the longer we wait, the harder it will be for you to leave. Don’t let this room become your prison. You only just escaped the last one. Don’t live in another of your own making.”

And that was how I found myself getting dressed and walking downstairs, with Rachel holding my hand the entire way and telling me to breathe.

Walking down the stairs was okay. My legs were shaking, and I felt on the verge of tears. But I made it. I did it.

But being downstairs, seeing the back exit in the kitchen, the busy bar out front had me frantic. I began dragging in my breaths, and still it didn’t feel like enough.

My lungs ached, my head spun, and a knot formed in my throat that felt as though it would choke me.

“I’m here, Gabriella. Look at me.”

I looked at Rachel, expecting to see either frustration or pity on her face.

But there was none of that.

She was looking at me with infinite kindness, both hands grasping mine.

“You’re doing amazing. The bar is busy, yes. But that is your protection. Those men there would lay down their lives to keep this place safe—and that includes you. You’re one of us now, Gabriella. Those men out there would die protecting every person on this compound. That includes you. They are not there to hurt you. No one is here to hurt you. Besides, you’re Vienna’s old lady. If anyone even sneezes in your direction, he’ll declare war on the fucking weather.”

I laughed at the thought. Not a full laugh. But it was enough to have my shoulders loosening some of the tension.

“Come on. Can you walk forward with me?”

I nodded, her words not really registering. All I really noted was that she was gently tugging on my hands and leading me through the corridor into the kitchen.

The wide, open kitchen with the exit looking right at me.

“It’s armed,” Rachel told me, noting where I was looking. “It’s fitted with a fingerprint code and alarms. There are men outside that door keeping guard. The hangarounds have been assigned watch duty on the perimeter. This place is a fortress, Gabby, I absolutely assure you. Here,” she said, reaching into her pocket and handing me her phone.

I looked down to see that she had loaded a security app.

“Now, I want you to take that phone and sit at the table whilst I make us some lunch. You can flick through that and see every inch of this compound. You can zoom in, zoom out, change the angle, whatever makes you happy.”

I sat at the table, doing as she instructed.

I changed the camera and saw the park, with children happily playing without a care in the world. I switched again and saw Steph’s pet supplies. Another camera angle showed me the edge of the compound, with three men on duty.

“In the interest of being honest,” Rachel began, opening up packets of meat and slicing some bread. “A lot of the Disciples are out—Dante, Vienna, Chris, Trent, Darwin, and Riley. They are all looking for Nico. Hacksaw is in the security office watching the cameras and doing whatever it is he does in there. But everyone else has a job, and that job is to keep you safe. Do you like mayo?”

“What?” I asked, flicking my eyes at her for a brief moment at the abrupt change in conversation.

“Mayo. On your sandwiches. Do you like it?”

“Oh. Err… sure.”

“White or brown bread?”

“Brown.”

“Tomatoes?”

“Rachel…”

“Do you like tomatoes?”