He nods. “Yes, sir.”
Returning to her side, I cup her cheek, rubbing the remaining tears away, and kiss her forehead while Devin prepares the syringe. He rubs the alcohol on her upper arm before he gives her the sedative.
“You’re going to be okay, Eve. I’m not doing this to hurt you,” I explain.
Her body relaxes into the gurney, eyes on mine when they grow heavy, but as they close, she whispers, “You’re just like them.”
I lie next to Eve in our bed. She’s been out for about an hour now.
I keep fucking up. Nothing I ever do is right or good enough. I’m trying, but that doesn’t matter.
My tatted knuckles softly brush her hair from her bruised cheek. I’m going to rip Evan apart. Tear him to fucking pieces with my bare hands.
I’ll make sure she gets the revenge she deserves.
My cell rings and I roll over to pick it up off my nightstand.Billlights up the screen. “Hello?” I ask, getting out of bed, not wanting to wake her. Devin said she’d be out for a few hours, but I want her to get as much rest as she can.
“I received a video,” he says in greeting.
I frown and pull the phone from my face to look at my messages. “I don’t see anything new to the group chat.”
“It came to me. Personally.”
“Okay.” I draw out the word. “What’s on it?”
“I’m going to forward it to you. Call me after you watch it.”
Click.
I lean my head back and close my eyes, taking a deep breath. My phone beeps in my hand, and I open it. Stepping out onto my balcony, I take a quick look at her in bed. She hasn’t moved. Falling down into a chair, I press Play on the video.
“Where is she?” Bill demands, standing in a hallway with Isabella.
“William—”
“Don’t lie to me. Trent told me she’s here.” He gives her his back and shouts. “Everett?”
“She’s not going to hear you,” Isabella states. She stands in a pair of high heels and an elegant black dress. It looks like Bill caught her before a dinner date with her husband—his best friend.
Bill spins around to face her, and she holds her hand up. “But I will allow you to see her.”
Bill snorts at her choice of words, but Isabella holds all the power.
The cameras change to a new hallway, and they enter a room. Evan sits behind a desk, typing away on his cell. He stiffens when he looks up to see his father with Isabella. “What are you doing here?” Evan demands, getting to his feet.
“He’s here to see Everett.”
Evan gives a rough laugh. “There are no visiting hours.”
“Don’t test me, Evan,” Bill growls. “I want to see her. Now.”
His son straightens his shoulders and opens his mouth, but Isabella says, “Take us to her.”
“She’s in isolation at the moment.”
“Why the fuck is she in isolation?” Bill demands.
“She’s being punished?” Isabella arches a brow at Evan, and he nods. “Well”—she waves a hand in the air—“five minutes can’t hurt. Take us to her.”
