The slick wood catches my wet feet, and I stumble, nearly falling.
Then freeze.
Darius lies crumbled by the door in a widening pool of blood. The coppery tang of it saturates the air, thick and suffocating.
“Darius!” A scream rips from my throat. “No! This is not happening.” The rough floor scrapes against my skin as I collapse, my hands frantically trying to stop the bleeding.
A pair of large hands clamp down on my shoulders, yanking me away as his men surround him, their murmuring a low growl. “Let them help him. They know what they’re doing.”
“You have to stop it! Please! Don’t let him die!” With a choked sob, I yell, my face wet with tears. “Please, don’t let him die!”
“That’s the plan, miss. Help will be here soon. Were you shot too?” The man spins me around and tries to check, his eyes scanning over me.
When he reaches for the robe, I tighten it around me. “No. I was in the shower. There were two loud bangs.”
I cannot take my eyes off Darius’s motionless body, lying there unresponsive.
“Oh, my god. Please, you have to save him. You have to. I haven’t even told him I love him yet. He can’t die. Please!”
I couldn’t tell you how I got upstairs and dressed. The last clear image I have is of the paramedics rushing Darius onto their bus, lights flashing as they loaded him and then sped away. After that, it’s like the world fractured. It’s as if I’m in a fog so thick I can’t even breathe.
A woman escorts me to a car and ushers me inside. In seconds we’re speeding off to the hospital. I dig my phone out of my pocket to call the one person I know will understand.
“He’s been shot. He can’t die, Winifred. He can’t.”
“Who?” My best friend’s voice cracks, sharp with worry.
“Darius. I haven’t even told him I love him. He can’t die.” I stare out the window, remembering the day my brother died. “I can’t lose him, too. I can’t.”
Chapter 22
Darius
The sterile room hums with chaos—voices clipped, metal clattering, machines screaming—but all I hear is the pounding in my head:don’t let this be what breaks her. She’s already lost once without warning, survived more than most. If death wants me tonight, it’ll have to fight like hell, because I refuse to leave Ingrid with nothing but another ghost.
Strength flickers back into me, enough to catch the doctor’s wrist and hold on tight. His gaze drops, questioning, and I manage a single word through my cracked voice. “Ring.”
“Sir, let us help you.”
“Yes… but first… my pocket.” I suck in a deep breath. “The ring.”
Pressure digs into my side, another voice cutting through. “We’re ready when you are.”
“Not… yet.” My chest burns as my fingers dig into his wrist. “The ring. Take it. Give to… beautiful lady.”
I have to pause, suck in a few breaths, ignoring the pain. “Please. Needs it. Ingrid. Remember… Ingrid. Promise.”
“We’ll worry about all that later.” He gives an exasperated nod. “First, we need to get you to surgery.”
“No!” Pain slices through me, stealing air. “Tell her… Not going to die.” My eyes burn into his. “Cause I’m not.”
“Not on my watch. Glad we agree.”
“Right.” I grunt and the wheeze. “Give it to her. Hold it… until I wake.”
“Can we go now?” He raises his eyebrow.
“Soon.” My grip tightens again. “Important. Don’t… fuck it up.”
