His brow furrows slightly. He sways where he stands. “You…called me.”
“I did,” I say as I take a step toward him. He’s studying me with such confusion. He knows me, I can see it in his body, he knows me. But his mind… Fuck. He’s so far gone. He looks ragged. He’s been running himself into the ground.
What if he hadn’t charged his phone? What if I couldn’t find him today? What would have happened tomorrow?
Would it have been too late?
I can’t think about that right now. It doesn’t matter. He’s here.
I take another step toward him. His nostrils flare as he scents me. There’s something that shifts in his eyes. Maybe he can sense my change. His eyes roam over me, searching for an answer.
But he doesn’t strike. He doesn’t turn and run.
I stop right in front of him, and I reach out, taking his hand in mine.
“I need to take you home,” I say as those hazel eyes burn into mine. He stares at me with such intensity, as if wracking his brain for who I am and what I mean to him. I lean forward, pressing my forehead into his, willing it to all come back to him.
“You’re still in there,” I murmur, barely above a whisper. “I know you are.”
His breathing is wrong. Too measured. Too much like a man on the edge of something final.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, right before I jam the dart into the side of his neck.
Ares’ entire body stiffens. His eyes instantly flare brilliant red, and black veins fan out from them, spreading over his face. His mouth parts in shock, his hands twitching as if reaching forme, and then, in the span of a heartbeat, his knees buckle. He spasms in pain, a muffled cry escaping his lips.
Shit. Shit. No. I didn’t know this would be painful.
After everything he’s already been through, the last thing Ares deserves is pain.
But it’s too late. His body spasms once more, and finally, he drops. I catch him before he can hit the ground, sinking down with him, cradling him against me as his body goes slack. His breathing evens out, his face smoothing into an unnatural stillness.
A breath shudders out of me, half relief, half fear. I have him. I finally have him.
Fuck. I honestly wasn’t sure I’d ever get him back. And for a minute there, I couldn’t stop playing out the worst possible ending to this in my brain.
But he’s here, in my arms.
Finally.
I pull my phone from my pocket with shaking hands and dial Billings. He picks up on the first ring.
"I need you to pick us up. Now."
"On my way to your location." He doesn’t ask questions.
I send a quick text to Sysco and Harry.
I have Ares. Meet me at the vault.
Then I sit there, kneeling on the dirty ground of the alley, holding Ares against me, feeling the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest. I push the damp strands of hair out of his face, my fingers ghosting over the bruises and cuts marring his skin. He looks… broken. Fractured.
I finally have him back.
But can I fix him?
Chapter 8
Billings carries Ares with his hands under his armpits. I have hold of his ankles. Together, we shuffle into the warehouse as Harry holds the door open for us. We navigate our way through the maze of boxes, and finally, Harry scans his hand for the second door to open the second vault. We lay Ares down on the bed, and I take care to straighten him out, cupping a hand on his cheek.
