“Ah, you’re awake,” Ross says with a nod. “Good. You were out for so long, we weren’t sure you’d make it.”
“Where’s Scarlett?” I rasp.
Ross exchanges a glance with Cain. My verysoulrebels at the severity of their gazes.
“You’ve been out for two weeks,” Cain says. “Blood loss and a fuck ton of bullets put you out of commission for a nice, long while. Lucky for you, most of the damage incurred to Headquarters during the fight was cleared in your absence—”
“Where the fuck is my woman?” I shout. I'm no better than a feral beast right now; I'll stand in the way ofanythingthat gets between me and Scarlett. Whether it's one of these bastards, or life itself.
“In our newly constructed ICU,” Ross responds carefully. “She had an acute subdural hematoma. We were hoping it’d resolve on its own, but it showed signs of rupture about two days ago, so we went ahead and operated. Her brother flew in the best neurosurgeon in the world for the operation—”
Ahematoma? JesusChrist, those have a 50% mortality rate. I’ve seen more than one man die after nasty concussions.
“Will she survive? Is she going to be okay?”
Ross pauses. Looks to Cain for instruction. Cain nods his head, silently giving permission.
The news must be very fucking bad if Ross doesn’t want to divulge it.
“There are good signs,” Ross says carefully. “The hematoma ruptured mid-surgery, so Scarlett wasn’t expected to survive more than a few minutes, but she pulled through. She’s unconscious, but everything we’ve seen so far indicates a good chance of survival. That being said, we won’t know anything for certain until she wakes up…ifshe wakes up.”
“She’ll fucking wake up,” I say. I don’t know if she’ll wake up in this life, or if I’ll end up following her into the next one, but there’s no scenario where we don’t end up together again. I won’t allow it.
I will bend the rules of nature, life, and death, to stay with her. But, fucking hell… if my last moments in this world are punctuated by Scarlett’s loss, I don’t think my soul will ever recover.
“I want to see her.”
“I don’t think that’s advisable—”
“I’m fucking seeing her,” I cut Ross off. “Ask me if I give a shit about your advice.”
Ross turns his head to look at Cain again, but I interject. “Don’t look at him. Look at me. I don’t require his permission, Ross. In caseyou forgot,I’m second in command,and we’re discussingmy fucking woman.”
“Give the man what he wants,” Cain says after a belated pause, offering me a nod.
Ross sighs. “Alright. Her brother’s with her right now, sitting at her bedside. He hasn’t left the position since she came out of surgery. I have to warn you… the sight of her could be jarring.”
Minutes later, armed with a walking cane and a pounding headache, I realize just how right the doctor is.
Jarringbarely begins to describe Scarlett’s state.
There’s a white bandage around her head, and a breathing tube in her mouth, hooked up to a machine that’s keeping her alive. Her eyes are closed, and she lacks the luster of life. Her skin is pale. Her body is still—too still.
The anger, pain, andfearthat pours out of my soul, invading every cell, is crippling. I nearly fall to my fucking knees at the sight ofmyScarlett, barely clinging to life. Seeing her like this is a blow to every fiber of my being. It’s disorienting. It’s devastating. It fractures whatever’s left of my soul.
“Looks like you pulled through.” Eric’s sitting beside Scarlett in a chair, elbow on the armrest, chin listing heavily on his hand. Exhaustion’s written into every line of his face, but his eyes are open and alert. His mind’s fighting his body, staying awake only for his sister.
Any doubt I had in their connection goes up in a cloud of smoke. This man loves my Flower fiercely, which is the only reason I tolerate having another person near her right now.
“Sorry to disappoint,” I quip.
He waves a tired hand, straightening in his seat and facing me. Similarities between his appearance and Scarlett’s, ones that were previously lost on me, jump out. They have a similar shade of hair. Thesame eyes. Their facial structures are a bit different… Eric has Luther’s aquiline nose and a stubborn jaw, whereas Scarlett’s features are more delicate.
“I got here with medical backup just as she passed out,” Eric says. “Both of you were minutes from death. You’re welcome.”
If he saved my life, he is owed a thank you… only problem is, with my reason for living hooked up to a machine keeping her breathing, I don’t much value my life right now.
Still, I say, “Thanks.”
