～Ella～

I could tell more bodies were inside, but Axton's arm movement drew me back to him. Once his hand moved away from his stomach, I noticed a wound there.

The blood had to be stopped, but obviously, Axton had no more powers to do so. I tried to press hard with one hand on the wound, and with the other, I took his face.

"Axton, do you hear me?" He didn't answer, but his eyes opened slightly. "Try to hold on a little longer. I am sure an ambulance will be here any minute."

"No..." He began to speak and placed a hand on the wall, trying to stand up.

I put all my strength into supporting him to avoid falling again.

"What are you doing? You don't have to move."

"Shh!" Axton barely motioned to me.

"Wha—"

A sound of loading a gun and steps over the broken glass echoed around.

My whole body shook in terror again. We had to get out of there. Even though Axton wasn't completely adequate, I wasn't even sure he knew it was me with him, nor was he able to walk on his own, we had to get out of there somehow. I put his arm over my shoulders and wrapped my arm around his waist as I continued to apply pressure to his wound with my other hand.

With many efforts, we made it out of the damn club, which by no means meant we were safe.

There was heavy traffic on the boulevard in front of us, and as Axton leaned against one of the street poles, I started waving at the cars.

But no one bothered to stop.

While I felt full of despair, one taxi appeared in my sight. I jumped in front of it, forcing it to stop. There were no passengers inside, lucky us.

I opened the back door. The driver was shouting something at me—something about how crazy I was, was I a suicidal and such, but I didn't pay any attention to him.

With no less effort, I helped Axton to get inside, followed by me. He lay down on the seats, and I finally breathed a relief.

"Drive!" I only managed to say.

"Get out of the car!" was the driver's response, who looked at us in shock. "I'll call the police!"

Obviously, he had seen all the blood over Axton and me. Wasn't he supposed to be willing to help?

"Please, drive!" I begged.

But the driver took his phone out.

While puzzled about what I should do, with my peripheral vision, I noticed someone running from the back exit of the club, clutching his pistol with no doubt looking exactly for us.

There was no time to think; I reached under Axton's shirt and grabbed his gun. It was heavy and felt so awkward in my hand. I had never touched a gun before, but that didn't stop me from putting the muzzle to the driver's head.

"I said drive!" The words came out of my mouth coldly, even though my hands shook and my stomach curled into a ball. "Put the phone down and drive to the hospital."

"No..." Axton mumbled. Which actually reassured me that he was still conscious. Yet I didn't like what he said next. "No hospitals... To... to the house."

"Axton, you need medical help."

"No." He persisted and tried to look me in the eye with that piercing look he always did. It seemed he knew it was me, after all.

"Alright." I agreed.

Without moving the gun, I repeated the street address that Axton muttered to me.

The driver followed the order without protest, but I was catching his terrified look in the back mirror the whole way.

After arriving in front of the house and we got out of the car, the driver left off with dirty gas. Neither he nor I thought about paying him.

With my last strength, I supported Axton while we walked towards the door. I had no idea how I even managed to hold his massive weight. But there was only a little longer for us to go.

Once we stepped over the threshold, Axton collapsed on the ground, dragging me down with him.

"Help!" I cried out. "Help!"

In a split second, dozens of men ran toward us. Some I recognized from before, others saw for the first time. Dahlia and Cade also appeared and helped me stand up.

"Ella! What happened?" Dahlia asked while Cade and the others took Axton.

"I found him..." It felt like there was no oxygen in my lungs. "I found him wounded. He..."

Cade started for the basement, followed by two men carrying Axton. Dahlia and I hurried behind them.

"He..." I continued. "He didn't want me to take him to the hospital. He wanted to take him here."

We were already in the long corridors of the basement. And just when I thought I had seen everything in this house, Cade opened one of the doors, behind which were stairs for another floor down. We faced another door—huge and metal which opened after its sensor approved Cade's fingerprint. We all proceeded through it.

The moment we stepped inside, numerous fluorescent lights turned on.

"What on Earth is that?" My question came out loud.

"That was the generator," Dahlia answered.

"No. I meant, what is all of this?"

"It's a bomb shelter," Dahlia responded again.

"A bomb shelter..." I repeated. "Wow."

The spacious room we were in, one could tell it could function like a living room. There was a small kitchenette, a table, chairs, even a couch, and a TV. But I didn't have a chance to look in detail because we quickly passed through it and ended up in another, smaller corridor. Several doors were visible there. Cade directly opened the first one, and once again, everyone followed.

"This is Axton's medical room," Dahlia explained, probably due to my curious look, as the boys placed Axton on an operating table. "It is equipped with the highest level of medical equipment and all the necessary medications available in every medical center."

As I listened to Dahlia, I kept my eyes on Cade. He washed his hands and began cleaning Axton's wound.

"Can Cade do that?" I asked.

"He's had medical training, wartime first aid. He knows what to do until the doctor comes."

"Doctor... That's good. Axton will be okay, right?"

Dahlia wrapped her arm around my waist and rested her head on my shoulder. She looked worried, but simultaneously, it was as if this was nothing new to her. "He will. I believe so. Now, come on, let's make a cup of tea. And I'll show you the rooms."

"What rooms?"

"The bedrooms. We'll have to spend the night here."

I looked at the operating table again before Dahlia and I walked back into the living room.

She made us tea, and we both sat on the couch. Silent at first, but when the doctor came, Dahlia obviously needed a conversation to keep her mind busy.

"Dr. Stevens took care of you here before. Cade was freaked out that night. He came back home all pale. He said he had no idea where the girl—you—came from in the middle of the road. The whole enigma about your blood-stained wedding dress was only a detail, and all he cared about was to know that you would be fine."

I folded my legs on the sofa. The memory of my bloody wedding flashed before my eyes for a moment. I remembered standing in the preparation room wearing an incredibly beautiful wedding dress, with hair and makeup like a movie star. I remembered my image in the mirror when I put on the long veil—the image of a princess. I was standing there, experiencing what was probably a dream for many girls. But it was hell for me. I looked at myself in the mirror for a long time, tears dripping from my eyes. As time passed by, I knew my last chance for salvation approached. I placed my hand on the dress where I had hidden the knife and wondered if I could muster up the courage to do what I planned to.

Then Grayson walked in. The moment he saw my tear-smeared makeup, he locked the room and stepped up to me. In the course of a few paces, he hurled as many insults at me as there were and hit me with such force that I crumpled to the floor. Just as a kick was about to follow, I pulled the knife from my garter and stood up abruptly, my adrenaline taking over and my hatred for the man against me, giving me the strength to fight for myself at least once. I drove the blade straight into his stomach. His eyes widened. Then, I should have had to remove it and stab him again. And again. And again. But instead, when I felt his body start to slide down, I dropped the knife and ran away.

While I ran, I couldn't think about what could have happened to me if Grayson's men had caught me. I had to escape, although I had no place to go. But then, black luck saved me. Cade had saved me. Ever since, I was safe. It might have been selfish, but I felt protected—protected with Axton, even with Cade, who tried to get me out of the club along with Dahlia today. And deep inside, I prayed Axton to be okay.

"If Cade hadn't hit me with his car,"—I said, looking at Dahlia's eyes—"I would have probably been dead. As ridiculous as it be, he saved my life."

"I admire your strength, Ella. What you have done to Grayson—"

I interrupted her, shaking my head. I understood she needed distraction from the horridness about Axton, but I wasn't ready to discuss my life with Grayson out loud. Not yet. Not ever, perhaps.

Dahlia respected my boundaries and leaned her head over my shoulder.

"He will be okay." It was my turn to reassure her. "Try to sleep, and I will wake you up when the news arrives."

About an hour later, the doctor and Cade entered the living room. They exchanged a few more words, and after the doctor left, Cade approached us. Dahlia opened her eyes and looked hopefully at her fiancé.

"The bullet is out. No complications, no organs were affected. He's lost blood, but we've transfused him two banks now. He'll recover quickly. I'm going to bed now."

I was relieved to hear Cade's words. But just before he left the room, he turned to me. "You shouldn't have done that."