Then hands grab me from behind. The nurses. They wrestle me down, their grips like iron.
“No! No!” I scream, thrashing, kicking, but they’re too strong. The scalpel falls from my hand, clattering uselessly to the floor.
Lucas wipes the blood from his mouth, his expression dark with murderous fury. He kicks the scalpel away, sending it spinning into a dark corner. “Should’ve killed you years ago,” he mutters.
The nurses drag me toward the bed. I fight them every inch of the way, teeth bared, heart breaking, mind screaming.
Ican’tlet this happen.
But they force me down, pinning me to the cold, hard mattress. Leather straps snap tight around my wrists. Before they can get to my ankles, I kick, catching my brother in theface. He howls in pain, falling back on the ground, and the nurses grab my ankles. I twist and thrash until the leather bites into my skin, but it’s useless.
I’m trapped.
Helpless.
I can hear my mother talking to Lucas, checking up on him, and I fight harder.
That’s when I hear the pounding sound in the distance. My head swivels to the right. The nurses share an alarmed look. My mother says quickly, yanking back on my hair, “Get her inside. Forget the anesthesia. Just yank it out of her.”
“No!” I scream as they try to wheel me away.
The door crashes open with a deafening bang. I jerk my head up just as Lucas struggles to his feet, groaning from where I hit him. And then?—
Ethan storms into the room, a force of pure rage and fury, his eyes locking onto mine.
“Natalie,” he breathes, like a prayer, like a vow, and I feel the tears spill down my cheeks. Not from fear but from sheer, aching relief.
“Get away from her,” he snarls, voice like gravel.
The nurses freeze. One drops the straps she’s fumbling with and backs up fast. The doctor tries to put her hands up, stammering something, but Ethan shoves past them without a second glance, his full focus on me.
I’m strapped to the bed, wrists and ankles bound so tight it burns, and I can’t even reach for him.
But it doesn’t matter.
He’s here.
“Ethan,” I choke out, my voice breaking.
He’s already beside me, his hands ripping at the straps with brutal, desperate strength. His eyes, usually so controlled, burn with an intensity that would terrify me if it wasn’t directed at saving me.
“I’ve got you,” he mutters, yanking the leather restraints loose, his touch shaking with fury. “I’m here. You’re safe now.”
I’m sobbing openly by the time my hands are free, collapsing into his chest the second he hauls me upright. His arms close around me so tightly it feels like he’s trying to mold me into him, to make sure nothing can ever pull us apart again. I breathe in his familiar scent, letting it anchor me back to reality.
“I’m so sorry,” I gasp against his neck. “I tried—I tried to fight?—”
“You fought,” he growls, pressing a kiss into my hair, fierce and broken. “You did everything right. I’m so fucking proud of you.”
“Get away from her!” my mother shrieks, who had moved to Lucas’s side on the ground. Ethan pulls me to the side just as she lunges for us.
“You ruined our family! You ruined everything, you whore. You filthy, little slut?—”
“I could be saying the same to you, Bridget!” A furious voice comes from the doorway.
My mother goes still, as do I.
Roland steps out from the doorway. “You kept my daughter from me because you wanted revenge for leaving you. You tried to ruin my reputation because I wouldn’t fund the lifestyle of you and that bastard son of yours. You stole my child from me, and you ruined her life. You tortured her because I was her father and not your lover.”
