Heart of Stone
by:
A.K. Hunter
Chapter Seven
"I don't belong to you." - Adna, "Thank God for Sending Demons"
She wasn't eating.
It had been two days since she'd woken up and she wouldn't eat a damn thing. She'd been four days without food in total and barely drank enough water to stay conscious. Kevin was ready to lose his mind over it. Each time he or Brigid brought her food, it came back untouched. Only Alexis would defy the odds and survive a terrible attack then stubbornly starve herself to death. He saw the quiet defiance in her eyes every time she looked at him, and he knew what she was thinking: He might have trapped her in his apartment, but he couldn't control her. He couldn't make her do anything he wanted her to, even when her life depended on it.
What she didn't realize was that he was dangerously close to holding her down and force-feeding her. He'd probably enjoy it too.
Kevin tapped on the bedroom door before pushing it open with one hand, the lunch tray in the other. Alexis lay on her side on the giant bed, facing away from him.
"Lunchtime," he said with forced cheer.
She didn't acknowledge him, and Kevin set the tray down before walking over to her side of the bed. He gently shook her, and her tired, glassy eyes opened. She was wearing the same dark button up shirt and jeans that she'd been wearing when she was taken. Kevin had had Brigid get her some clothes—nothing fancy, just comfortable, clean, well-fitting clothes so she'd have something to wear. Alexis wouldn't touch them. She just wore that button up and jeans, her last bit of her life outside his apartment.
"Sit up," he ordered gently, and to his surprise she actually did it. She stifled a few coughs into the sleeve of her shirt. She'd picked up some kind of bug from the time spent in Sloane's custody. Of course, a weak, malnourished body wouldn't be able to fight off even the smallest cold. Kevin knew how filthy that water must have been. He wouldn't be surprised if she'd gotten pneumonia, but the redhead wasn't letting Brigid near her, so they couldn't be sure.
"Brought some lunch," he said unnecessarily. "Smells delicious doesn't it?" The set the tray in front of her. It held a bottle of water, a small bowl of soup, and a sandwich.
"I'm not hungry."
"I'm sure that's not true." She looked ravenous, and he heard her stomach growling. He took a small bite of the sandwich right in front of her. "Mm... It's really good." He waved the sandwich in front of her face, inches from her mouth. "Want some?"
"No."
The wave of helpless anger that shot through him was almost crippling. "No?"
"No. I'm not hungry."
Okay, maybe a different tactic was needed. Kevin looked into her tired, pale face once more then glanced around the room. "You know, you don't have to stay in here. This whole apartment is open to you. Do you want to eat in the kitchen? Or maybe outside on the terrace?"
"I get to go anywhere inside this apartment? How generous. How will I ever thank you?" Sarcasm dripped heavy from each word.
He took a deep breath. He had to hand it to her. Nobody else was as good as pushing his buttons as her. "You're not a prisoner–"
She snorted.
"–you're a guest," he finished.
"A guest who doesn't get to leave when she wants to."
"We've had this conversation already." And they had. Every single time they'd spoken in the two days she'd been awake, Alexis had reviled him for keeping her at his apartment. He explained that Sloane knew where to find her, that he knew her name and where she lived and that going back to her life was as good as handing herself over to the madman. Kevin had reminded her that certain people wanted her dead and the best thing was for those people to believe she was actually dead, that her family couldn't protect her, but Kevin's pragmatic message never swayed her. She was in complete denial.
"I'm not done talking about–" A hacking cough cut off her complaint. He instinctively reached for her, resting a hand on her shoulder as her weak body shook, and she slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me."
This was absolute torture, and Kevin could feel his patience waning. She was sick; she needed food, medicine, all the things she was stupidly keeping at bay. "Alexis, you have to eat. You can't keep doing this to yourself."
"You don't get to tell me what to do. I'm not your property."
He set the tray on the bedside table, taking slow breaths to manage his anger. "I never said you were."
"The evidence speaks."
"What evidence?"
"You bought me, didn't you? You took me away from my life. You locked me up in this apartment. I don't belong to you, Kevin. You can't just make me do whatever you want!" Her voice was soft, but grew it volume. It seemed she had been subsisting solely on her hatred for him.
"So you're starving yourself. Why? To punish me? Brilliant idea. You sure you didn't hit your head when Sloane took you?"
She glared at him, pausing to cough some more.
"You should let Brigid treat you," he said in a softer voice.
Alexis just shrugged. "I'll go to a real doctor when I'm out of this hell-hole."
"And will that be before or after you starve to death?"
A small, rueful smile tugged at her pale lips. "I guess that's up to you."
He wasn't prepared for the fury her smartass comment elicited. For days he'd watch her starve herself, refuse medical treatment, clinging with stupid stubbornness in that way that only Alexis could to what she wanted. And then she'd put the consequences on his shoulders? She was trying to make him feel out of control and helpless. It was a good, old-fashioned power play. What she didn't realize was that he'd been playing this game with much more ruthless adversaries for the last three years. She was out of her league. She wanted to play with him? Then she'd better be prepared to lose.
With thoughtless efficiency, Kevin yanked her forward by her good arm and tore open her shirt. Buttons flew everywhere as she let out a small scream. She slapped him in the face repeatedly, but she was so malnourished that he almost didn't register her weak attempts to fight, her dry throat begging him to stop. Hacking coughs racked her chest as he jerked the fabric off of her arms and started on her jeans. She fought a little harder to keep those. She kicked at him, tried to scratch and bite him, but before long he'd yanked her pants off as well.
"Give them back!" Clad in only her bra and underwear, she threw herself at him, trying to hold onto her last possessions. "Those are mine!"
It was all too easy to defend against the onslaught. He tossed the clothes onto the floor, catching her around the waist when she dove for them. He shoved her back into the mattress, straddling his weight across her hips and pinning her wrists down.
"Let go!" she whined, tears slipping from her eyes.
"You do not get to tell me what to do," he snarled, getting right up in her face. "You don't get to starve yourself or refuse medical treatment just to punish me. I've been nice, but if you keep this shit up, you're not going to like the result."
She weakly struggled against him, and he set a little bit more weight across her body, held her wrists just a little tighter. She winced at the pressure on her sprained wrist, but he didn't let up. "Here's how it's going to go from now on. You will eat three meals a day and you'll let Brigid help you. You'll act like an adult and take care of yourself."
"Or what?"
"Or I'll burn those clothes you love so much." She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off. "And if that doesn't work I'll tie you up and you'll get a feeding tube. You're not going to win this one, sweetheart. You want to act like a prisoner, I'll treat you like a prisoner. But if you're a good girl, if you do what I say and stop this childish bullshit, I'll treat you like a guest. Do you understand?"
She watched him with wide, tear-filled eyes. She was shaking underneath his touch.
"Do you understand?" he repeated, in a lower tone.
She nodded, and a few tears escaped down her cheeks. He gently wiped them away. "Good. Now sit up."
She returned to her spot, shallowly sobbing, and he set the tray in front of her. She reached for the spoon, and he batted her hand away. "Hands in your lap."
Her eyes widened as she realized what he meant to do, and he saw that familiar fury ignite in those blue depths. She began to shake harder, a byproduct of her anger. "No."
"Hands in your lap or your shirt is kindling." His tone brooked no argument.
She complied, and he brought the soup-filled spoon to her lips. "Open."
Tears rolled down her cheeks in a flood, but she followed his instruction. He fed her until the soup and half the sandwich were gone. At that point she begged him to stop, saying she couldn't eat anymore. He wasn't surprised. Four days without food had hollowed out her stomach. She had cried the entire time, embarrassed, degraded, wearing only her undergarments as he fed her like a small child. He hated her tears. She cried every time she was in his company, it seemed, and he hated it. He hated showing her just how much power he held over her, but this had to stop. She had to stop fighting him. She had to stop hurting herself. She'd always been stubborn, willful. Years before he'd loved that passionate spark in her eyes when she was determined to get her way. Now it was just a liability.
He wiped the crumbs away from her mouth with the napkin and left the half-empty water bottle on the bedside table. "Next time you'll feed yourself, and you'll eat every bite. Got it?"
She nodded, staring down at her hands, clenching the blanket. She muffled a feeble cough in her bare arm.
"Brigid will be here later."
She didn't answer, and after a beat, he stood up and tossed her clothes onto the bed next to her. She scrambled, holding them against her chest like a lifeline. The image made something akin to guilt tug at his heart.
"Alexis–"
"Get out!"
With a resigned sigh, he took the tray and left her alone.
The girl had Rice Krispies in her lungs. Snap. Crackle. Pop.
Brigid took the stethoscope out of her ears, then offered it to her patient. "Want to hear what pneumonia sounds like?"
"I know what it sounds like." Alexis put the nubs in her ears, moving the round, flat end over her chest, breathing deeply and trying not to cough too hard.
"That's right," the blonde said with a smile. "I'd forgotten you're a proper doctor."
"And what are you?"
"An RN with way too much freedom." She tilted her head to the side. "Or responsibility. Depends on how you look at it."
"So that part wasn't a lie then," Alexis said, her tone dripping with disdain.
"A lot of parts aren't lies," Brigid answered simply. The best lies were founded in truth, after all.
"Except everything Liam thinks he knows about you. Why are you stringing him along? Insider information?"
"I'm not stringing him along. I love him." Brigid could tell her patient didn't believe a word she'd just said, and Brigid couldn't blame her. It did look pretty suspicious. "Hold out your arm. I'm going to take some blood."
"Why?"
"You're the doctor, you tell me."
Alexis stayed silent, and Brigid tied the tourniquet around her upper arm. "Relax. I'm checking your white cell count. We need to see how bad this infection is before we just throw antibiotics at it. I also want to run a few tests to make sure your system is healthy enough to handle any more medication." Her eyes softened as she looked at the redhead. "You've been through the ringer."
Alexis looked away, blinking back tears. Secretly, Brigid was impressed with Alexis' strength. She'd watched Kevin worry about the redhead for days, trying to figure out how to get her to eat, how to make her comfortable. Alexis may think she was at Kevin's mercy, but she had more power than she realized. She winced as the nurse dug the needle into her arm.
"Sorry. You're still pretty dehydrated." She readjusted the needle and Alexis watched her blood fill the plastic vials. The nurse then checked her pulse, her temperature, and her blood pressure. "You've got a bit of a fever, which I'm sure you already knew, and your pulse is a little high—"
"It's not like I'm stressed out or anything," Alexis deadpanned.
"—but your blood pressure is looking better. Kevin told me you ate today?"
Her face went beet red. "It wasn't my choice."
"Did you eat very much?"
"You want a calorie count? I ate until I was full, even though it tasted terrible."
"I'll pass on your review to my brother." Brigid packed the vials and her supplies in her bag. "Anything else I should know about?"
"I want to go home." Tears filled her eyes and Brigid couldn't help but feel bad for the younger woman. She'd been in the middle of living her life and had been ripped out of it twice now.
Brigid squeezed her hand, unsure if the girl would tolerate much contact. "You'll be home before you know it, and this will all seem like a dream."
"You mean a nightmare."
Brigid didn't argue with her. "I'm going to run these tests and pick up some meds for you. I'll be back later tonight. Try to get some rest." She closed the bedroom door on Alexis' quiet sobbing. She pulled out her cell phone as she punched in the code for the elevator, the only way out of the apartment. Kevin tried to stay in the apartment as much as possible, but he still had work to do.
"What?"
"Hello to you, too," she answered. "Did Ma never teach you manners?"
Brigid almost felt her brother's eyes roll through the phone. "I'm an asshole, you're a liar. We're all terrible. What's the verdict?"
"Pneumonia."
"Shit."
"I've seen worse cases. I'm on my way to the lab now, and we'll get some meds in her by dinnertime. Good job getting her to eat, by the way."
"I didn't have a choice."
"She said your cooking sucks."
She heard him huff through the phone. "I made her favorites."
Yes, her brother definitely had it bad for the young doctor. Alexis thought she was a prisoner, but she had the power to bring one of the most feared men in the syndicate to his knees. Brigid was glad Kevin couldn't see her smile through the phone. "To be fair, everything sucks to her right now."
She heard muffled voices yelling in the background. "I've gotta go."
"See you tonight."
Kevin stepped into his apartment, thoroughly exhausted. Physically, mentally, emotionally, you name it, he was tired. It was almost midnight. He'd been working late overseeing a deal on Nolan's behalf. The old man couldn't leave his bed. Just speaking seemed to exhaust him. The end was near for the old monster, and Kevin wasn't a bit sad about it. The old man's death would cause upheaval, and Sloane seemed to already be positioning himself in preparation for that eventuality, but Kevin had a plan. A plan that would solve everyone's problems. Sloane would no longer be a threat, Alexis could go back to her life, his friends would no longer be used against him, and even Brigid would benefit from it. His plan would change everything for the better; he just needed some time to execute it.
Normal men came home to dinner, maybe some quality time with their spouse and sex if they were lucky. Kevin came home to his sister reviewing paperwork at his dining room table.
"Hi honey, how was work?" she asked without looking up. "Made a scotch on the rocks for you. Better hurry before the rocks melt."
Moments like that reminded him why he could never stay mad at his sister for long. Not that he'd forgiven her, of course. They were a long way from that. He took a seat next to her, sipping his drink. "What are these?" Acronyms and numbers were listed in a giant table on each paper.
"Your lover girl's lab work."
"She's not my anything anymore."
Brigid gave him a strange look. "You could change that, you know."
He snorted. "I'm pretty sure that ship has sailed."
"Don't you love her?"
"She hates me. She told me so herself."
"She doesn't hate you. She's scared and lonely and sick and has no control over her life right now."
"And that's my fault?"
She sighed, "You can be such an idiot sometimes."
"Hey–"
"Kev, your dream girl is stuck here, sleeping in your bed every night. You get to see her every day and she can't leave."
"Thanks for somehow making me feel worse."
"This is your second chance, dummy! You know as soon as this is over, Alexis will walk away. If you love her, if you want to be with her, the least you could do is make it hard for her to leave."
"She thinks I'm a controlling, terrible monster."
"So show her you're not. Talk to her, spoil her, apologize. Take advantage of this opportunity."
He frowned. "Why are you suddenly interested in my love life?"
She smiled, though he could tell it was forced. "What can I say? I'm a hopeless romantic." Her eyes darted back down to the paperwork before she gathered them up. "She ate dinner and had a dose of antibiotics."
"She give you a fight?"
"Not this time. I'll be back tomorrow to give her another dose."
"You make house calls to give people a pill?"
"IV antibiotics," Brigid said shortly
"Isn't that going a bit overboard?"
"Her body's been through a lot. An aggressive treatment seems like a better option."
He nodded. "I'll take your word for it. Thank you for looking after her."
"Anytime." She kissed his cheek. "Think about what I said. If you want things to change, there's no time like the present."
She left Kevin alone, and he savored the peace that had settled in the apartment. He wasn't so ready to believe that Alexis didn't truly hate him. She had every reason to hate him, after all. Kevin didn't see what he could do about that. It wasn't as if he could let her leave—he wasn't about to sign her death certificate—and short of giving her what she wanted, he didn't see how she'd ever warm up to him.
He finished his drink and snuck into his bedroom sometime later. Alexis had taken it over and he now slept in the guest room, but he still had to get some clothes from time to time. He quietly stepped through the darkness, heading to the closet. He didn't want to wake her up. She needed all the rest she could get.
Kevin stopped when he heard quiet whimpers coming from the bed. He sighed. He'd hoped that at some point she would stop crying and come to accept what was happening. Guess that point hadn't happened yet. His sister's words rang in his head. Should he try to comfort her? Could she even get any comfort from him after everything he'd done?
A particularly heartbroken sob made the decision for him. "Alexis? Are you okay?"
She immediately quieted.
"I heard you crying. Are you okay? Do you need anything?"
"I'm fine," was her broken reply. He almost laughed. She was such a terrible liar. In the darkness he crossed to her side of the bed and flipped on the lamp.
She looked like hell: pale face, swollen red eyes, strands of hair clung to her wet cheeks. She was wearing one of the pajama sets he'd given her. She must be hiding the clothes he'd threatened to take from her. The worst part was her eyes. She looked like she'd entirely given up hope, like she'd never be happy again. A few tears slipped down her cheeks, and he couldn't stop himself from catching them with his thumb. She flinched at his touch, and guilt almost knocked him off his feet. He vowed in that moment to never make her feel like she needed to be afraid of him ever again.
He stroked his thumb up and down her cheekbone. She didn't move away, didn't lash out. After a several seconds, she actually seemed to sink into his touch. Slowly, carefully, so he wouldn't spook her, he perched himself next to her on the bed, and began to drag his fingers across her scalp. The soothing effect was instantaneous. Her eyes closed and her head bowed forward.
His heart raced in his chest as she settled against him. He had a feeling her actions had nothing to do with him and everything to do with how unsafe and out of sorts she felt. She hadn't changed her mind about him, she was just low on options and needed comfort. She wasn't even looking at him. She wasn't speaking to him. He was a physical reassurance only, and if that was the case, he'd make sure it worked.
His hands slipped down to her neck, massaging the stiff muscles and endless knots he found there. She mewled at the sensation of his hands on her, clenching the fabric of his shirt in her hands.
His nose brushed her ear. "Lay down on your stomach."
There was curiosity and uncertainty in those baby blues.
"I'm not going to hurt you."
Still, she was apprehensive.
"Please?" he asked.
His request did the trick, and she followed his instruction. He reached in a drawer on his bedside table—quickly because there was no need to have a conversation about the contents within it—and placed a small amount of lavender-scented oil onto his hands. He slipped the straps of her top off her shoulders.
The second his hands began to knead the muscles in her shoulders, she almost jumped out of her skin. He shouldn't have been surprised. Brigid had said it herself: Alexis' body had been through a lot. She was probably a catalogue of aches and pains. He massaged her scalp again, whispering sweet nothings in Irish until she relaxed.
Then his hands slipped over her skin, gently teasing the knots and aches loose. Once her shoulders were done, his hands slipped up her arms, massaging those muscles as well. He avoided the bruises that were scattered over her skin. The sight of them made him sick. She didn't deserve to be hurt. She didn't deserve any of the terrible things that had happened to her.
He slid his hands underneath her camisole, massaging the tension out of her lower back, which must have really been aching because she sighed with each loosened muscle. Once he was done, he spent a while dragging his fingers up and down her back, mesmerized by the calming scent in the air and the feeling of her soft skin beneath his fingertips. When he forced himself to pull back, he found Alexis sleeping soundly. Mission accomplished.
He pulled the covers up around her and couldn't stop himself from kissing her forehead. There were so many words inside his heart:
I love you.
Please forgive me.
I'll never let anything happen to you.
Instead he whispered, "Sweet dreams."
Kevin grabbed his clothes and returned to the guest room. As his head rested against the pillow, he couldn't help but think about the woman in his bed and how much he wished he could lay next to her, hold her in his arms. He knew this was difficult for her. She was scared and alone and faced with a man she used to love but no longer knew anything about. He wanted nothing more than to take that fear away, to make her feel comfortable and safe instead of helpless and trapped.
He needed to be kinder, more patient. He needed to show her that she had nothing to be afraid of, that he cared about her. That he loved her. Unlike Brigid, Kevin knew that there was no chance for Alexis to love or trust him again. He'd already broken whatever tenuous connection they had after three years apart. Even if she miraculously forgave him, she'd never want to stay with him. It was fruitless to try to earn her love back, but that didn't mean he couldn't try to make her life as easy as possible while she was with him. He could bear her hatred, her broken trust, the undeniable fact that he'd lost her love. He could carry those weights with him for the rest of his life as long as she was happy.
So that was what he would do. He'd try to make her happy.
Alexis awoke to bright, late-morning light coming in from the window. She glanced at the clock on the wall, surprised to see that it was almost noon. She hadn't slept that late in years. Taking a moment to stretch and wake up, she breathed in the scent from her pillow. She'd been sleeping on Kevin's side for the last few days. The pillow smelled like him. Alexis remembered those rare mornings when he'd be up before her and she'd snuggle into the space on his side of the bed, enveloping herself in its leftover warmth and the scent of him. She missed him—the Kevin she'd known before everything had fallen apart.
This new Kevin... she didn't know how to feel about him. The air and sheets around her smelled like lavender. She tried to understand why he'd treated her that way last night, after everything else that had happened. She didn't understand him anymore. One moment he could be so passionate it overwhelmed her. Like the night he'd showed back up in her life, he'd kissed her, made love to her, told her that he'd never stopped loving her. That in itself was too much to process.
Then he treated her like his property—a decision that reflected a side of him she'd never seen before. She'd seen that side again when he'd torn her clothes off and threatened her. She wasn't ready to forgive him for either of those actions yet.
And then there were those softer moments, the middle ground between all-consuming passion and cold indifference, like last night, like the way he'd treated her when she was drugged. He'd called her perfect. He'd been the quiet comfort she'd needed after learning that her life was forever changed. He'd saved her life and taken her freedom. Alexis didn't know how to quantify this new Kevin.
She stretched once more before sitting up and draping her legs over the side of the bed. A coughing fit took over, and she took a swig of water from the bottle on the bedside table. She felt the feverish ache in her bones, but its weight seemed lighter than it had the day before. The antibiotics were already helping.
There was a light knock at the door before Kevin stepped inside the room. "Good morning, beautiful." He smiled at her in a way that made her confused heart trip over itself. She looked down at her lap, trying to hide the blush that spread across her cheekbones. Before she'd met this new Kevin, she'd never wanted to punch and kiss someone at the same time.
He walked around the bed and stood in front of her. Not so close that she felt smothered, but not too far away either. "How are you feeling?"
She blinked at him and settled for a monosyllabic answer. "Better."
"I've got a surprise for you."
For a split second she thought his surprise might be her freedom, and just as quickly she kicked herself for it. He wouldn't let her leave. They'd established that point several times. She watched him open the doors to the balcony, and shock mixed with instant hunger at the small, sunlit table that was laden with food and a gigantic bouquet of roses.
His smile was shy, eager to please. "Do you want some breakfast?"
She could only nod. Why was he doing this for her? She stood on shaking legs, crossing the short distance to the table. The warm sunlight on her skin made her want to cry. She jumped when Kevin draped a light blanket across her bare shoulders, and he quickly resumed their previous distance. He began to walk back inside.
"Aren't you staying?" she asked before she could stop herself.
His eyes widened at her question. "I figured you'd want some time alone."
The fact that he'd considered her feelings at all made her do a double-take. "You're right."
He nodded, seeming both unsurprised and disappointed by her response. "Enjoy your breakfast."
Alexis breathed a sigh of relief when she was finally alone. She'd spent a lot of time alone in the last two days, but this was different. This was a quiet, comfortable moment to reflect without worrying about Kevin or Brigid bursting into the room. This was exactly what she needed, and Alexis wondered how Kevin knew what she needed before she did.
She dug into her breakfast, eggs Benedict with fresh fruit, her newfound hunger running the show. As she enjoyed the flavors moving across her tongue and the growing feeling of fullness in her belly, she took a moment to observe her surroundings. The balcony was connected to a bricked in terrace that seemed to run the length of the apartment. Rather than offering a view, it afforded privacy. Ivy grew up the side of the wall from planter boxes, and the whole area held a light, floral fragrance. Alexis listened to the sounds around the area. Muffled car horns echoed in the distance. She was likely still in New York. That thought comforted her. At least she hadn't been taken far away. If she could escape, then it would be that much easier to be reunited with her family.
Anxiety churned in her stomach at the reminder of her family. They must be out of their minds with worry. That familiar helplessness washed over her and she felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. No, she needed to keep it together. She couldn't cry and fall apart anymore. Her fingers traced over the IV port in the back of her hand as her mind replayed her conversation with Kevin's sister the night before. Brigid had brought her dinner, administered the antibiotics, and calmly informed Alexis of her lab results.
Alexis needed to get healthy again. She needed to be strong and smart and find a way out of this strange, benevolent captivity that had been forced on her. She had to ignore the helplessness, the loneliness, the plethora of confusing emotions that threatened to consume her. Her fingertips pressed just below her belly button, against the fragile life-form that was no bigger than a poppy seed.
Because the thing was, Alexis wasn't alone. Not anymore. Thanks to a foolish, passionate night with Kevin, she'd never be alone again, and her life wasn't the only one in danger.
Author's Note: Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. You guys are amazing, and your feedback never fails to motivate me to write faster and to make this story the best it possibly can be. Please keep it up and review! I'd love to hear your thoughts.
Next time: Kevin fights an uphill battle to make Alexis happy, and Castle employs desperate means to find his daughter.