All Chapters of Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

DAMIAN BLACKWOOD I watched helplessly as the doctors bustled around her.From where I stood, they appeared to be gathered in a cluster of white coats, speaking with urgent whispers, sounds I could not hear or react to. I ignored them, making sure that my gaze was locked on Eleanor. The fear I had felt when I found her on the floor now felt to me like a distant memory, replaced by a cold, hard need to make everything right again. They had to stabilize her. They had to save her.What was better? Me standing outside here or me walking in and taking control, even if only a little? They had asked that I stay out, but what would they do if I stormed the inside?"We're losing her," a woman's voice suddenly cut through the air.My head snapped up, and without a second thought, I flung the doors that had posed as barriers open, pushing them from my path. No oracle, no soothsayer, nor words were needed to tell me to get into the ICU, to be there with her. I looked at the doctor, a young wom

ELEANOR SINCLAIRThe darkness finally lifted from my eyes… And the hazy images became clearer with each blink, until the white ceiling of the hospital was clear above me again. Without thinking too much about it, I tried to stand up when I was brutally stopped by the pains that ran through my body. I shut my eyes tightly, because it suddenly felt as though a dagger was thrust through my abdomen.I relaxed, and the pain disappeared, though my abdomen and even the rest of my body felt heavy and numb at the same time, as though it was not mine at all. After quite a number of failed attempts to move my legs, I gave up and decided to lie down. Was I not safe, after all?My eyes looked around me. I could have a partial view of a bouquet of blue flowers with a card sitting in them. That lifted my spirits so much that I tried to turn, and when I did, I found what I thought was the most beautiful scenery, the most beautiful thing I could have opened my eyes to. Damian was hovering over a chil

ELEANOR SINCLAIRThe house felt empty without him.He was gone, having left behind a silence that hung on my chest, heavy with the ache of his absence and the sulky throb of my C-section wound. There I sat in the room where it had all started—once a maid's room in days past, and now my room as a new mother cradling our newborn son, who slept peacefully against me still, his eyes shut, his nostrils breathing. Jenny, the nurse Damian had introduced, sat in a chair beside me, her lanky body sitting in a position of tense preparedness that seemed both odd and comforting. All the while, however, my mind was on Damian's promise to search out Helen-Nora. It echoed in my mind as though he spoke it again to my hearing, each word underpinned by his unbreakable confidence, but also reminding me of the dangers he could face.Somehow, I required him here by my side where I could see him and know that he was safe with me, his steady presence anchoring me and not off there facing death or sending

DAMIAN BLACKWOOD I did not know why Eleanor was crying, but I was relieved when she slept. It really does take a lot to be a father. A ‘good’ father. Because sometimes it goes beyond your child and extends to your wife and her missing sister—I guessed that was why Eleanor was crying, at least. You have to be there for them, to be strong for them, to make sure that you wipe all tears you can while keeping them safe. Sometimes the sleep even leaves your eyes, just as it did for the rest of that night.I only lay without sleeping, staring at the ceiling and waiting for the day to break. And when that took too long, I got up and went down to the bar and tried a few drinks, enough to get the sleep into my eyes, but it never came. I thought it was fair, keeping watch with my men watching outside, even if they were watching the house in shifts and I was alone.When that bored me too, I went and stared at my son for a long, long time, and then picked up a gun, keeping my own watch while st

DAMIAN BLACKWOOD The look of the warehouse convinced me that my answers lay there.It was a forgotten thing, a skeletal ruin of brick and shattered glass. My driver, a quiet man that was more lethal than he appeared, killed the engine three blocks away. There and then, I gave each one his orders."Some of you must stay here and keep the car running. Others spread themselves around the street and the best of you come with me. We'll be there and back in ten minutes, twenty at most. All of you be on guard. We might need to follow the car around, and you must all be ready." As I said it, I hoped it was not a lie, a foolish promise to all of them.Me and my chosen man walked the final stretch, the air growing colder as I approached, all my senses on alert. The warehouse surprisingly had guards, too, two hulking men with automatic weapons slung over their shoulders, their cigarettes hidden by the sunlight. They stood near a rusted metal door, the only entrance, and though I thought that t