Fuck. Yes.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
EVANGELINA
The elevator doors closed behind us. A tall, dark-haired man was standing in the far-right corner, face in his phone. While he hadn’t so much as acknowledged our presence, I couldn’t help my reaction upon seeing him. Gripping Derek’s arm a little tighter, I moved closer to his body. The sights and smells of the building only added to my paranoia, since the last time I was here, I was being shot at and nearly assaulted. My breath sped up, my pulse drumming, reverberating in my ears and overpowering the droning of the cables as we went up.
“Hey.” Derek’s gentle voice eased me back off the ledge of a panic attack. “I told you you’re safe with me.”
He must have sensed my nerves taking a nose-dive, though the way my grip was probably leaving fingerprints on the skin of his forearm, it wouldn’t be hard to guess. I was spiraling.He pulled me to his chest, lips brushing my forehead.
The ding of the elevator caused me to jump in his arms. “Eva, look at me.”
I shook my head, the inside of my eyelids burning as tears gathered. The stranger’s footfalls echoed on the floor as he exited the small space, leaving us alone.
“He’s gone.”
Derek’s large hands framed my face.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, lifting my eyes to his. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. This isn’t me. God, I’m so pathetic.”
He shushed me, pushing hair away from my face and tucking it behind my ear. “Don’t say that. You had the fucking mafia trying to kill you.” The cords of his neck strained as he spoke. “You fought your way out… back to me. And you killed a man twice your size who was trying to kill you. That’s far from pathetic. It’s fucking badass,” he added with a grin.
I couldn’t help smiling at his use of that word.
“If you’re not ready to be here, we can always come back another time.”
I shook my head. “No, I have to. Sam may not make it. And I could never live with myself if I didn’t come see him because I was being a coward. I’m done hiding, Derek. I have to do this.”
Sam was still unconscious and on life support. The fact he survived a gunshot wound to the head was a miracle in itself. Four days had passed since we came under attack. And I felt guilty enough having waited this long to visit. But working up the courage to step inside the hospital again was nothing short of daunting. The only reason I’d made it this far was because of Derek. He assured me I was safe with him, and I believed that with every fiber of my being. I’d never felt more protected, more cared for than when I was with this man.
Once the elevator doors slid open again, Derek twined his fingers through mine as we moved into a brightly lit corridor. The unit was quiet except for the clicking of keyboards and medical machinery beeping, buzzing, or rolling around us. Nervous energy zinged inside my chest, causing my heart to pump faster. But I bit back the fear trying to take me under. I wouldn’t let them win.
I looked to Derek, but his focus was solely on our surroundings, every room, and even the nurses’ station. Every single soul on that floor was on his radar.
This side of Derek intrigued me and, if I were being honest, made me question everything. While I knew he was a tactical instructor by day, like Helena, something in the overly confident way he moved and scrutinized every detail screamed of something more.
“I can stay outside, if you’d like,” he said as we reached Sam’s room in the ICU.
Two guards were standing watch, their eyes flicking to us as we approached.
“I.D.?” A shorter, burly male with light-colored sideburns stuck out his hand, barring us from moving farther. His tone was terse, and his stance impassive.
“Detective Cruz,” the female guard said, a hand on her partner’s forearm.
I nodded, and without another word, she motioned us inside. Derek sent the male guard one of his infamous death glares, causing the man to shrink back, which allowed us more space than necessary as we entered Sam’s dark hospital room.
“Oh, Sam.” My voice broke as I rushed to his side.
His head was bandaged, and he had so many tubes. Sam was a marine vet who’d always taken care of himself and followed a strict gym regimen. Seeing him lying there, looking so frail and helpless, knowing he’d likely never be the same, tore at my heart.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you.” Tears slid down my cheeks as I clasped his hand in mine. “It was supposed to be me, not you.”
Derek’s hand fell on my shoulder. “Don’t you fucking say that.” There was a bite to his tone.
“They were trying to get to me. He didn’t deserve this.”
“And you did?” His eyes were narrowed into slits.
