He cuts through the nightmare.
“Aspen, wake up!”
My eyes snap open, and the vomit comes out fast, splattering the floor.
Knox is there, holding my head steady.
Max is in front of me with a bucket in his hands.
“You’re okay, pet,” Knox whispers, pulling me close. His tattooed arms wrap around me. I want to melt into him, to disappear, but another wave hits.
More vomit, more pain.
“You’re safe here,” he murmurs. I hear the panic laced beneath his calm.
I want to tell him I’m fine, but I can’t. The words won’t come.
“We got you, sweetheart.”
Max’s hand rubs slow circles on my back.
I’m heaving now, body trembling, throat raw.
There’s nothing left to give, but it won’t stop.
My vision is still blurred, but I see someone kneeling in front of me.
“Aspen, I need you to breathe in and count to five,” Max is calm, but there’s an edge to it.
I shake my head, unable to focus.
“Come on, pet,” Knox is firmer, more commanding now.
I can feel it slipping, the panic, the chaos of everything. I’m losing it.
Suddenly, a hand wraps around my neck, and I gasp, the pressure growing. I claw at the skin, my nails sinking deep.
“Easy, sweetheart,” Max murmurs.
The hand tightens, and I can’t breathe, what the hell is he doing?
Rage sparks through me. I open my eyes, trying to shove him away. But it’s not Knox. It’s Ryker, kneeling in front of me, his dark eyes locked on mine as his hand grips my neck.
“Good girl,” Knox murmurs in my ear, low and soothing. I realize the nausea has stopped. My breathing has slowed, and my body feels heavy, like it’s been run over by a truck.
Ryker’s smile is slow and controlled as he gently releases his grip, his fingers trailing lightly over the spot on my neck where his hand was just pressing.
“Welcome back, love,” he says, his tone a low rumble as he caresses my skin.
Max raises his hand, gently placing it on my face.
“She’s not hot anymore,” he says.
“Thank fuck,” Knox mutters, his tone heavy with relief and frustration.
“How long was I out?” I ask Max, noticing the guys are wearing fresh clothes, no blood in sight, and sunlight flickers through the gaps between the wooden planks covering the windows.
“Eighteen hours,” he says with a small smile, standing. “I’m going to heat the water.” He strides out of the room, and Ryker follows without a word.
