Page 71 of Silence and Surrender

Colton’s arms tightened fractionally. “Hear that? Almost out. Almost safe.”

Safe. Like the vault had been safe. Like the bank had been safe.

Colton moved carefully, his arms steady around me despite the gunfire behind us.

“Channel two’s clear,” Cooper’s voice came from somewhere ahead. “Vehicle’s ready.”

I tried to focus on Colton’s heartbeat against my ear. On the solid warmth of him. On the way he held me like something precious rather than property.

The world blurred. Fragments of night air as we emerged from the tunnel. Of car engines starting. Of violence fading behind us.

“Medical team standing by,” Cooper said from the front seat.

No. No more clinical touches. No more strange men.

“No hospitals,” I managed to say, my voice barely audible.

“Okay,” Colton soothed. “No hospitals. Just hold on. Just stay with me.”

I pressed closer to his warmth, trying to remember what safety felt like. What love might have been, in another life. Before the cell. Before the drugs. Before everything changed.

“Found you,” I whispered against his chest. “You found me.”

“Always.” His arms tightened carefully around me. “I’ll always find you.”

The world kept fragmenting. Kept breaking into pieces. Lights blurred past the windows, creating patterns that reminded me of brushstrokes on canvas.

But Colton’s arms stayed solid. Real. Safe.

“Forever?” I asked, not sure if I’d spoken aloud or just thought the word.

“Forever,” he promised. “As long as you’ll have me.”

I wanted to tell him that forever was a long time to follow the rules. That he might have to learn to break them. But the words wouldn’t form properly through the haze. At least, I didn’t think they did.

“Sleep,” Colton murmured. “I’ve got you now. You’re safe.”

So I did.

Because Colton had come.

Just like I’d known he would.

Chapter Thirty

Colton

Steele’s private jet hummed steadily; the cabin lights dimmed to accommodate Isabella’s exhaustion. She’d collapsed into sleep almost immediately after we’d boarded, her body surrendering to the safety and comfort of the leather seats after the nightmare of her captivity. As promised, I didn’t take her to the hospital. But Steele’s doctor had met us at the jet and had administered a mild sedative before we left London, assuring me it would ease the journey without deepening the chemical dependence her captors had forced upon her. She fought both me and the doctor, but eventually gave in when I begged her, tears threatening to fall from my eyes.

I watched her sleep from the seat across the aisle, cataloging each visible injury the dim lighting revealed. The cut above her temple that disappeared into her hairline. The raw marks around her wrists where restraints had bitten into flesh. Each one made the rage simmer hotter in my chest, even as I maintained the outward calm that had become second nature.

“She’ll need time,” Cooper said quietly, sliding into the seat beside me. He handed me a glass of whiskey I hadn’t asked for but gladly accepted anyways. “And space.”

“I know.” I didn’t take my eyes off Isabella, afraid that if I looked away, even for a moment, she might disappear again. “Steele’s hotel has the security we need?”

“Better than most government facilities.” He took a sip of his own drink. “Allegra’s been preparing the suite. Top floor, medical supplies, everything she’ll need. Then in the next few days, we’ll have the villa ready for you. We don’t want Clara to…”

“I understand,” I said, looking down at the bruises covering Isabella’s face. Clara would be frightened. It was better to let my Bella heal a little before introducing her.

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