Chapter 44: Broken Promises

Chapter 44: Broken Promises
MARCUS'S POV

The sharp, chemical smell of antiseptic burned my nose and throat. It was an attempt to cover the truth up, but under it, I could sense the decay. And the sound… God, the sound. The insistent beep… beep… beep of the heart monitor beside Isabelle's bed. Each one a small hammer against the side of my head, counting out the seconds of this hell that I'm stuck in.

The chair I sat on was as unforgiving as the rest of the stuff in this room, forcing my back into a painful slant. I ached everywhere. Isabelle looked so small against all the white. The bed swallowed her up, the fitted gown hanging loosely on her fragile body. Tubes ran up into her arms, pale skin mottled with bruises where the needles had gone in.

Fragile. That was the constant thing running through my head.

I pressed toward the stiff blanket covering her. My hands brushed along it, and for a moment, I remembered the way things used to be… touched her and felt safe, like coming into harbor after a storm. She'd been warmth, solid ground. Now? Now to touch her was to touch ashes.

My vows. The promises I'd made at one time had felt like armor. Now they were anchors, dragging me deeper into something I couldn't mend. Devotion had turned into a prison of my own making.

Then, out of nowhere like a punch to the gut, I saw her. Not Isabelle. Ava.

The chapel came to mind. The flames dancing on her face, lighting up her eyes with something feral and unspoken. Her eyes had pulled me like the tide, the undertow of us deep and treacherous. She had stood ready to fall, ready to drown… with me.

The memory had not gone far. It was alive, moving under my skin. I could feel the heat of her body against me, the way she gulped when my grip tightened, the way she pushed against me instead of pulling back.

Jesus.

Shame roared hot and bitter in me, causing me to wish I could rip my own flesh away. I was her stepfather. I was the man who stood between her and men like Julian, the kind of men who were not safe. I was the one meant to guard her from predators, not turn into one.

Julian had a term for what I'd let slip. I didn't want to think about it, but it squirmed behind my head nonetheless. It sounded so bad, so metal and acid on my tongue.

But the truth was unavoidable. That desire for her was there, raw and unyielding. It drew me in one way, and shame and guilt drew me the other. I was split down the middle, hating myself for wanting her and hating myself more for not being able to help myself. 

How did I get here?

I was tied to a marriage that I could not rescue and attracted to a woman that I could not possess without the two of us getting ravaged. The chapel had been a memory, but it still contained all its wounds open. And I passed through without giving it much thought.

The shrill ring of my phone cut across the room like a blade. The sound was too intrusive, too harsh. I did not have to pick it up. Fear already had my stomach churning like ice.

Julian.

I picked it up, my hand drenched in sweat. "Julian," I spoke brusquely.

"We have to see one another. The Gilded Fox. Tonight." His voice was toneless, glacial, metal-like. No hello… just a demand.

My eyes were drawn back to Isabelle. Her breathing puffed the fabric of her threadbare top, each breath shallow and weak. Guilt coiled deeper. "I'm at the hospital. Isabelle… it's awful," I stammered out, trying to make him realize that this mattered.

"It's about the estate breach. The perimeter. We need to meet now. Move." His tone was ice over stone, cutting straight through me.

And then… click.

The hush after was worse than the call. It was oppressive in my ears, ringing and heavy.

The perimeter breach. Julian's words cut and clinical, but I knew what they meant. Something had broken past his control. His walls had been shoved. And now, the empire… Ava among them… was part of what needed to be guarded.

Shock of alarm ran through me, quick and hot, coupled with something else… exhaustion so deep it was drowning. My body didn't want to go, but my head was already racing ahead, preparing.

Getting up was tearing flesh from bone. My chest tightened when I laid eyes on Isabelle, still as rock, machines doing what her body couldn't do. Abandoning her was like betrayal once more.

Caught again. Always caught.

I was caught between two lives. The woman I used to vow to save, and the man who had made me someone who could abandon her. Between what I would have been and the harsher truth of what I'd become.

The chair scraped across the floor as I shoved it aside, the sound tearing through the quiet. I remained there for a moment, staring at her white face. I tried to get words out, but they stuck in my throat, useless words such as I'm sorry or I'll get this fixed. But they wouldn't. They never did.

The allure of Julian was as strong as ever, in spite of all those years of pain. His voice still carried that hook, that command that made you obey before you'd even had time to consider.

I stood in front of the door. It wasn't courage that was driving me… it was habit. Training. Understanding that escape from Julian was not possible.

The hallway beyond was just as it had always been. Too bright. Too clean. Too empty. The disinfectant scent followed me, clinging to my skin.

And as I walked, it hit me again… those vows I'd made were broken. Not by time, not by fate, but by me. And the worst thing was, I knew I'd probably break them all again before this was over.