134. “You found me.”

134. “You found me.”
Isabelle Nash

The cold metal of the container still vibrates against my back. My knees hurt. My head is still tingling from how tightly Simon held it. Everything feels so unreal—I couldn’t move, I was frozen, just being shaped however he wanted. When he dragged me into the hell of this container, I was still half-dazed from the chloroform.
I’ve never been so scared in my life as I was with Simon. He had become someone else, completely different from the man I had met years ago. The only thing keeping me grounded now is the sound of ragged breathing and the warmth I feel through Felix’s shirt. I’m in his arms. But I still don’t know if this is real or just another illusion my mind made up to protect me.
Footsteps. Shouted orders. The siren sounds farther away now. But inside me, everything’s still a mess. My voice refuses to come out. I try to swallow the pain and the dryness in my throat, but it’s like trying to breathe underwater.
The skin on my arms is covered in marks. My eyes burn from holding back the tears so hard, but my vision is blurry. I close my eyes. And his face comes back. Simon. His whisper in my ear, his touch, that vial, the sweet-smelling cloth that knocked me out.
His mouth brushing my face—just remembering it makes me sick.
But Felix’s voice pulls me back from the edge.
“Little Bunny...”
My eyes open, and I see his face. Streaked with sweat, breathing fast—but he’s here. He found me. He came.
My hands reach up, weak, but they rest on his face. I need to feel him. I need to be sure he’s not just another dream.
“You found me,” is what I try to say, but it comes out as a hoarse whisper, barely a sound.
My lips are cracked, but he understands me anyway. He doesn’t say anything—just pulls me tighter against his chest. His scent is the first familiar thing I’ve held on to in days. Wood, smoke, sweat. Felix.
My legs finally give out, and I let myself fall, but he holds me up. His large hand moves gently along my back, through my hair, with a tenderness that shatters me inside.
I cry, without sound, without sobs. The tears just run down my face.
“We’re getting out of here,” he says, voice steady. I nod. That’s all I want—to leave this place. To never look at Simon again, who's being dragged away by Phill and the others. Tony hurries ahead, leading us to where the car is parked. The sound of the siren grows louder with every step.
As soon as we reach the car, Tony opens the door, and Felix sets me in the back seat, then climbs in right after, pulling me into his lap.
He wraps me in a coat—it’s so warm it brings a wave of relief, a flutter in my stomach. A comfort I’ve always searched for, and ironically, it comes from someone who also represents danger.
“Shhh,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.”
And I let him.
I let him because I can no longer fight.
The car is dark. Streetlights pass by like blurry shadows. I’m lying with my head on Felix’s shoulder, like a scared child. His hand strokes my hair. No one speaks.
The silence is heavy, but not uncomfortable. My thoughts are still a mess. The fear, though not as sharp now, still hums beneath my skin. My body’s shaking, but he’s here.
He protected me. He walked into hell for me.
“Felix,” I murmur. My voice barely makes it out. “He… he’s not going to stop, is he?”
I lift my head and meet his eyes. They’re hard.
“For now, he’ll be locked away somewhere only I can see him, Little Bunny.” He brushes my cheek with his thumb. “As much as I want to kill that son of a bitch, I still need answers. But he’s never going to lay a finger on you again. Never.”
I close my eyes, trusting that.
Then Phill’s voice crackles through the radio, cutting through the silence.
“Boss, the weapons were really in that container. He was telling the truth.”
Felix’s body shifts—tense. His eyes darken.
“Secure the cargo. Take it somewhere safe. I’ll deal with that later. Right now, I want Simon locked up in our special place.”
My heart tightens. I get the feeling Felix might do something much worse with that information. I can’t explain it, but I feel it deep down.
I end up falling asleep along the way, and when I wake up, Felix is carrying me up a staircase in his arms. When we reach what looks like a bedroom, he gently lays me down on the bed.
“Sleep, Little Bunny. You’re tired,” he whispers, looking at me with tenderness.
He brushes his thumb softly across my face, and I can feel all the warmth in that hand—the same hand that, just hours ago, faced off with Simon to protect me.
“You’re going to sleep and rest. We’ll talk tomorrow, calmly.”
He kisses my forehead, letting his lips linger there. He sighs, then slowly pulls away, leaving the room.
I’m so exhausted I can’t even protest or beg him not to leave me alone. I just close my eyes and sink into the soft pillows, feeling too broken to say anything.
The silence is thick, almost suffocating. I can only hear my breathing, and in my mind, the memories flood back—the crack of gunshots, the smell of gunpowder, the chill on my neck when the gun scraped my skin. Simon’s face flashes behind my eyes: his twisted smile, the whispers that tore me apart, the cold stare when he used my head as a shield against Felix. The blood, the cold metal of the gun against my skin.
My body vibrates with a mix of relief and panic. It’s like I’m still trapped between two worlds—the chaos of the kidnapping and the promised safety of this penthouse. I try to breathe deeper, forcing the fear out.
I feel the softness...
The softness of the sheets, the weight of the comforter over my legs—it’s a fragile kind of protection, one that quiets the voice in my head screaming for me to run.
A shiver runs down my spine, and my fingers grip the edge of the blanket. The images come in bursts: the bullet grazing the car window, Simon’s hand tangled in my hair, the gunshots fired in Felix’s direction. His face, right before he appeared out of nowhere in that container. The scream that echoed inside me, silent but far too real.
The night wraps around me, but something still pulses inside it—a question that keeps repeating in my head, unanswered. And even in the silence, I feel time suspended, holding a promise: that tomorrow, he might make Simon pay for every second I feared never seeing him again.
My heart still races as I roll onto my side, close my eyes, and wait. Wait for sleep to come back. Trying to push away all those horrible memories. Trying to forget. Just forget that it all happened—and that it happened because of me.