On My Way To You (Broken Love Duet 2)

I shake my head no, stopping when I realize Mitch called me Bluebird. I force myself to look at him and that’s when I realize it’s Reed.

“God, Bluebird. You’re safe, I promise,” he croons, his thumb reaching up to my face to swipe tears along the side of my cheek.

I hadn’t realized I was crying, but apparently, I am.

“R-r-r-eed.”

“That’s right,” he says. “You’re safe.”

Before I can tell him that I’m not—that I’ll never be safe from his brother—the overhead light flips on. I hiss as the pain explodes behind my eyes at the harsh brightness. Instinctively, I close them tightly and bury my face against Reed’s chest.

“Br-bright,” I moan.

“For fuck’s sake, turn the light out,” Reed growls, sounding more pissed than I’ve ever heard him in his life.

“What’s going on in here?” a woman asks.

“She woke up scared. She pulled her leads loose,” Reed says. He helps me to lay back, and I suppose it’s only then that my brain can register the fact that he’s being very gentle in the way he holds me. If I had realized that sooner, I wouldn’t have been as afraid.

There’s nothing gentle about Mitch.

“You’re wet,” the nurse says.

He looks at me and grins. “I accidentally knocked over her water.”

I look at him, my eyes focusing much better, and I see the worry and pain etched on his face.

He knows. He knows it all.

Embarrassment and shame war with one another inside of me. I look away from him, not sure what to do with all of the emotion I’m feeling that’s threatening to drown me. I feel so stupid. I never wanted Reed to know what a fool I’ve been. I didn’t want him to know just how weak I’ve become.

“We’ll get you fixed up in no time. You’ve been out for a long time,” the nurse says, coming over to stand over my bed, moving Reed out of the way. I’m thankful. I don’t know how to face him right now. I’m not even sure why he’s here.

“A long time?” I ask, my voice squeaking as I try to talk.

“Almost a full week,” she says, and my body tightens.

I’ve been out of it for a week?

“M-Mitch,” I whisper.

Reed comes back into view and grabs my hand. The nurse moves to the other side of the bed, adjusting the machines before checking to make sure I didn’t pull my IV free. He gives my hand a gentle squeeze and I force myself to give him my attention.

“You have to m-make sure that Lennon and Ka—”

“They’re safe. Jeff is watching them like a hawk,” Reed says. “We read your letters.”

“My letters…” I turn my head away from him. I just thought I was embarrassed before. Now, I find myself wishing the floor would swallow me up. When I wrote those, I planned on being far away and unable to be found when they were read.

“Hey,” he says, and he cups the side of my face.

My tears begin again. I can’t stop them. I’m so ashamed, and it’s worse that it is Reed seeing me at my lowest, seeing me how I really am.

Seeing how far I’ve fallen into this pit.

“Bluebird, none of this is your fault,” he says softly, and he gently moves his hand over my face, physically willing me to look at him. I do it. The tenderness in his voice is too much to let go of. When I look, I notice he has tears, too. He’s crying for me, and I hate it, but it also strengthens something inside of me, too. I may not be worthy of it, but he cares about me. He cares that I’m hurt—he cares that I’m humiliated.

I nod, wanting him to feel better even though I don’t truly believe what he’s saying. I reach up and go to wipe his tears but realize it’s the hand with my broken wrist, so I stop.

“I’m going to call the doctor and let him know you’re awake,” the nurse says, leaving the room.

Reed and I are still staring at one another. I don’t really know what to say. He continues to look at me, his face intent and more than a little intimidating. His fingers brush my hair. I know he thinks he’s bringing me comfort, but honestly—even though I know it’s Reed—the way he’s leaning over me and the fact he’s touching me makes it hard to breathe. I hate that I’m afraid, but I am.

Maybe he senses that. I’m not sure. For some reason, however, he sits back down. He still holds onto my good hand, linking his fingers around mine. I don’t understand why he’s doing it, but it feels good—almost as if he’s reassuring me—so, I’m okay with the gesture.

“I’m going to keep you safe, Callie. He won’t get near you again.”

“Wh—where is he?” I ask, not really wanting to know. I’m hoping they’ve arrested him, locked him up, and threw the key away.