Page 65 of The Heir
"I have good news for you," he announces. "Your guard is ready for visitors. He would like to see you both."
"Really?" I pop up from the bed. "And Helena?"
"She is ready, as well. She hasn't left his side—she even scrubbed in and observed his surgery."
"Where are they now?" Dante asks. Elliott doesn't respond but turns on his heel, and we scurry to follow.
The entirety of the safehouse is vast, and my original assumption that it was two stories wasverywrong. There are tunnels and air bridges, and—actually, calling it a safe "house" is a bit reductive. This thing is acomplex. We're staying in the main building, which includes many of the sleeping arrangements, but from what we're seeing now? I don't know how many buildings there are.
We've gone past a kitchen—again, that sounds reductive—that would put a Michelin-star restaurant to shame. Which makes sense, because after Dante and I thoroughly broke in our bed, the most delicious waffles of my life were delivered to our room. Beyond that, we walk through a little tunnel connecting us to an armory. The weapons (more guns than a gun store in the South) are kept locked behind a steel-and-glass door, and a bored-looking woman sits behind a counter near the back wall. I assume she checks out guns to whoever needs them.
On the third building, I smell the unmistakable scent of antiseptic and rubbing alcohol. This must be the medical area. Elliott punches some numbers into a keypad—I appreciate the extra layer of securityfor Melnyk's sake—and the automatic door swings open. I have no idea how The Eligos keeps this place so heavily staffed, but a gaggle of people in scrubs scurry about. Honestly, there are more medical staff here than at the rural hospital. They barely give us a second glance as we pass.
Elliott leads us to a drawn blue curtain hanging from a metal track in the ceiling. Hushed voices murmur, but I recognize Melnyk's wheezing laugh. Elliott gently pulls back the curtain and ushers us through.
My breath catches in my throat. I knew Melnyk's situation was bad, but I don't think I truly understood the extent. The purple bruising around his eyes has a yellow-green tinge around the edges, and he still looks sickly and pale. Bandages wrap his exposed chest. Dark red blood oozes through the white bandage, and I imagine there are stitches and scars underneath, but I can't see them. I don't want to see them.
Helena sits at his side, and her smile freezes in place when we enter. She shifts her position, removing her hand from his arm. Her back straightens. Involuntarily, my eyebrow raises, and I try to force that bitch back down where she belongs.
"Holy shit." The words tumble from my mouth before I can stop them. "God, Melnyk, what did theydoto you?"
"I did promise I'd tell you." He winces, pushing himself up. Helena scrambles to help him adjust and shoves a pillow behind his back. He exhales a long, slow breath as he leans back. "Thank you,koshenya."
Koshenya?I have no idea what that means, but it sounds… romantic. God, I need to unpack all of this with Helena—assuming she doesn't hate me forever.
Elliott scoots over some chairs for Dante and me, and we settle in. Elliott nods to Melnyk, then takes his leave. I imagine he either already knows or can sense that we'd like some privacy with our friend. The Eligos's people really are top-notch.
"After we were ambushed—and betrayed byRoman." He practically spits the man's name, fury flashing across his face. "We were abducted, as you know. Separated. Held captive. Helena, the poor dear, had already been at the mercy of Ella and Hannah for months. She was no longer fun, you see. She was never meant to be Hannah's plaything. Hannah did not care for women. But men? Particularly, a man who cursed her brother's name? I became her target."
"Hannah didallof this to you?" I gasp. He nods grimly.
"Yes. She did not like me defending myself—she kept syringes in her pockets. I don't know what was in them. She would inject me, and I could not move. A paralytic, obviously, but I stayed conscious. Every second of it, Iwas conscious. I felt everything. Iheardeverything. I felt her fists, her boots, everything she could get her hands on." He swallows thickly, averting his eyes. "She wanted me to praise her brother. She wanted me to forsake you, your husband, Helena—she talked to him, you know? He's dead—we all saw it happen—but she talked to him as if he were there."
"I think I heard that, too," Dante mumbles. "I'm so sorry, Melnyk."
"She would stare into empty corners of the room, listening, laughing at whatever she hallucinated. But it was not always so light. She would scream at me, blaming me, telling me I was the reason her brother died. That was when it got… worse." He takes a shuddering breath, and Helena loses all semblance of professionalism. She jumps from her chair and wraps her hands around his.
"You don't have to tell us. If it's too much, we won't think less of you." She gently cups his cheek and guides his gaze to her face. "You don't have to say a word."
"She's right." My voice is scratchy and thick with emotion. A lump is firmly lodged in my throat, and guilt coils around in my chest. "She's right. Please. I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. Don't—don't push yourself, okay?"
"Please. You coddle me." He waves his hand. "The important thingis, I am alive."
"Helena, can I talk to you?" I blurt. My cheeks flush a fiery red, and I feel the heat of mortification crawl up my neck.
"Um." She peeks at Melnyk, who nods with a pained smile. "Uh, sure."
Dante automatically offers his arm to help me up. I shake my head and clamber to my feet. Guilt and embarrassment war in my chest. My heart pounds in my ears. But I have to do this. I can't hold this in any longer.
Helena follows me from the little curtained bay to the front—it doesn't really resemble a lobby. None of this does. It's more like an emergency room, and there's no privacy.
One of The Eligos's nurses scampers over with concerned professionalism. "May I help you ladies?"
"Um. I was just hoping for somewhere we could talk…." I trail off, looking down at my feet.
"I can let you into the hallway, but you'll have to knock loudly to reenter."
"That works." My ears burn, and I'm sure I'm redder than a tomato.
