“Listen to them. You’re no good to her when you can hardly stand.”
I stare into his green eyes and nod once.
He tips his chin at the medic.
An oxygen mask is placed over my face and Denver steps back and says, “I’ll handle things here, Boss. Stay with her. She needs you.”
My eyes track back to Hallie. To her limp body. And her unresponsive eyes.
Please, goddamn it. Please don’t let her die.
38
HALLIDAY
My body feelslike it’s gone ten rounds with a heavyweight boxer as my senses start to swim into focus. There’s a gentle murmur of voices around me. My throat’s thick and dry, and my head’s foggy. I remember people helping me—hands, voices, Sterling by my side—before exhaustion won over.
“Sterling?” I croak.
Warmth against my hand intensifies and my fingers tingle, the life easing back into them.
“I’m here, Hallie. You’re safe.”
I peel my eyes open and blink. Everything is bright and blurry. I seek out his voice and my vision clears slowly. Warm blue is waiting to find me.
We look at one another for a few seconds and I note the bloodshot whites of his eyes, and the deepened lines etched into their corners. It’s the worst I’ve ever seen him, yet he still looks handsome to me.
I reach up and clumsily feel at my face.
“It’s an oxygen tube,” he explains as I touch the object beneath my nose. “You’re in the hospital, remember?”
Lowering my hand, I stare at the back of my palm. It’s dirty but looks like someone’s tried to clean it.
“There was a fire… I was in your office.” My voice comes out hoarse and I force a swallow, wincing at the scratchiness there.
“Not what I meant when I said to wait on my desk for me.” Sterling’s eyes soften.
“What happened?”
“Dad saved your life. Strode in there thinking he’s invincible and carried you out himself.”
I look into Sullivan’s hardened gaze where he’s standing near the end of the bed. His expression melts as he looks from me and then to Sterling and lets out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Thank God you’re both okay.”
“The cops say it was arson,” Denver says from his position next to the door.
“Arson? But…” I try to take in a breath, but it turns into a wheezy cough.
“You need to rest, Hallie. Don’t try and talk. We’ll find out who did this.”
Sterling’s tone changes to one that’s icy as his eyes track to Denver and the two exchange a knowing look.
“You think it was Rory, don’t you?” I ask.
“Don’t think about it now.” Sterling sighs, taking my other hand in his.
I allow my gaze to rake over him. His suit is ruined and covered in soot and dirt, and his shirt is open at the top with buttons missing. A dusting of silver chest hair peeks out, made dull by the smoke residue coating it.
