As the medical staff stepped away, leaving them in the hushed space behind the curtain, Rylan moved closer.He lowered himself into the chair beside her bed, never letting go of her hand.His thumb traced absent circles against her skin, though the tension in his jaw betrayed the storm inside him.“What happened?”
Her gaze shifted toward the curtain, as if wary of eavesdroppers.When she looked back at him, her eyes were shadowed.“I think someone hit me.On purpose.”The words were barely more than a breath.
His grip tightened.A dangerous heat flared in his chest.
“I’m not sure,” she added, a faint crease forming between her brows.“But the driver just… walked away.I saw them, but… something about it didn’t feel right.”
Rylan’s eyes hardened.He released her hand and stood abruptly, the sudden movement making her flinch.Stepping outside the curtain, his voice dropped to a lethal murmur.“Tom.Get the traffic footage.I want the plate, the driver, every detail about that vehicle.I want to know who they are, where they live, and who they answer to.”
Tom nodded, already relaying orders into his hidden mic.
When Rylan returned, the edge in his expression softened just enough for her.He took her hand again, enclosing it between both of his.“You called for me,” he said quietly, his gaze locking onto hers.
A faint blush colored her cheeks, her lashes lowering.“I did,” she admitted.“I was… out of it, but… I wanted you.”
Wanted.The word struck something deep and primal in him.
His fingers closed more firmly around hers.“You’re coming home with me,” he said, each word deliberate, leaving no room for argument.“I’m going to take care of you.”
Her lips curved faintly, and some of the tightness in her features eased.“That sounds… nice,” she whispered, her voice trailing on the last word.
Rylan’s gaze lingered on her for a long moment, his jaw set in silent promise.Whoever had done this would regret it—thoroughly.And until he had answers, Natalie wouldn’t be out of his sight for a second.
Chapter 29
Three days later, Natalie gripped the edge of the sink, her knuckles white as she stared into the mirror.The cool marble grounded her, but it didn’t steady the storm inside.Reality was here—unavoidable, unforgiving—and it whispered one truth she could no longer ignore.
The accident had stripped away every flimsy excuse she’d clung to about Rylan.
Lying in that hospital bed, dazed and aching, there had been only one person she wanted—needed.Not because he was herfriend,but because he was more.He was the one who made her feel safe, seen, and protected in a way no one else ever had.And when she’d called for him, he’d come.Instantly.No hesitation, no excuses—just absolute, unshakable presence.
In the hospital, he’d been all quiet strength and gentle hands—careful when he helped her sit up, patient when she struggled to speak.The memory of his steady gaze, his warm grip on her fingers, had shattered the final fragile wall around her heart.
She loved him.
Not the dizzy infatuation she’d felt in the beginning.Not a crush she could shrug off when it became inconvenient.This was something bigger, heavier—an all-consuming pull that shifted her world until Rylan was at its center.
But love with Rylan was not simple.She knew his reputation—the man who made women feel like they were the only one in the room until he moved on to the next.Maybe he did care for her, deeply even, but she couldn’t let herself believe it meant forever.His nature was to leave.And that truth tasted bitter.
Still, the accident had been a brutal reminder: life was unpredictable, fragile.If she kept holding back out of fear, she’d regret it.Even if loving him ended in heartbreak, she wasn’t sure she could stop herself now.
“You need to tell him,” she whispered to her reflection, though it came out more like a plea than a vow.
The face in the mirror didn’t give her answers—just wide, uncertain eyes and bruises that hadn’t yet faded.She tugged her sleeve down, hiding the ugly blotches mottled in sickly green and yellow.The pain had dulled, but her arm still ached when she moved wrong.It was a quiet reminder of how easily things could break.
Physically, she was healing.Emotionally… not so much.The unanswered questions gnawed at her.The police had called, but always for Rylan or Tom—not her.Why?It had beenheraccident,hercar.Why was she being shut out?
She’d let Rylan take care of her for the past few days—let herself be pampered and protected—but that had to end.If she was going to feel like herself again, she needed answers.And step one was confronting him.
Drawing a deep breath, she left the bathroom and started down the stairs.The rich aroma of something spicy and buttery curled through the air, coaxing her anger into a reluctant pause.Over the past few days, Rylan had spoiled her—gourmet meals, hot baths, the kind of attentive care that made her feel… cherished.Maybe even adored.
And that was the problem.Every kindness was another thread binding her to him, making it harder to pull away.
She rounded the corner into the kitchen.Rylan glanced up, and his sharp, assessing eyes softened immediately when they landed on her.
“I thought I heard you moving around,” he said, sliding a tray of perfectly browned biscuits from the oven.Steam rose in delicate curls as he set it on the stove before turning back to a simmering pot.
“How do you feel today?”His voice was low, warm—like honey poured over raw nerves.
