The nurse hesitated, then nodded reluctantly.“She’s been drifting in and out.She might wake again soon.If she starts to fatigue, you stop.”
“Yes,” I said quickly.
The nurse stepped back, crossing her arms, watching me like she didn’t trust me not to fall apart.She wasn’t wrong.But I didn’t have time to crash out right now.I needed to make sure Char was going to pull through then I needed to start the man hunt.
Char’s eyelids fluttered.I leaned in, voice soft.“Char?It’s me.It’s Dante.”
Her lashes trembled again, and then her eyes cracked open.They were unfocused at first, like she couldn’t anchor herself to the room.Then they found me.And the fear that flooded her face shattered something inside my chest.
She tried to speak.A raw sound came out—more breaths than words.“Easy,” I whispered.“Don’t push.You’re in the hospital.You’re safe.”
Her hand twitched weakly, fingers scraping the sheet like she was trying to reach for something.For me.I took her hand gently, careful of the IV, and wrapped my fingers around hers.
Her grip was weak but real.Tears burned behind my eyes.I blinked them back hard.
“Char,” I said.“Can you tell me what happened?”I wanted to add before we got there, but she didn’t even know we were there.She was out cold when we arrived and as she left in the ambulance.
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed.She winced.“It hurts,” she rasped.
“I know,” I said, voice breaking.“I know.Just whatever you can.Okay?We need to know where he is.”
Her eyes squeezed shut, and for a second her face looked like she was back there, in that apartment, trapped in the dark.
“He was there,” she whispered, voice shredded.“When I came home.”
My grip tightened around her hand.“Your ex?”
She nodded faintly, a tiny motion that seemed to cause pain.“He was inside.”
“Was the door locked?”I asked automatically, brain trying to build a timeline.
“I,” She swallowed again, tears spilling from the corners of her eyes.“I don’t know.I think he had a key.Or he broke in.He got in before I got home.I don’t know.”
“It’s okay,” I said quickly.“Just keep going.”
Her breath hitched.“He was high.Crazy.His eyes,” She shook her head slightly like she couldn’t bear the memory.“He kept talking fast.Saying I was I was his.That I thought I could leave him behind like nothing.Throw him out like trash.”
My jaw clenched so hard it hurt.
“He wouldn’t let me past him,” she whispered.“I tried to go back out.He grabbed me.”Her fingers tightened weakly around mine, panic pulsing through that small squeeze.
“He shook me,” she said, voice trembling.“Hard.Like, like he wanted to break me.And he kept saying, ‘You’re gonna learn.’”
I felt cold sweat slide down my spine.“Char,” I said, leaning closer.“Did he make you take anything?”
She blinked slowly, eyes glassy.“I didn’t, I didn’t take anything.I swear.I swear, Dante.”
“I believe you,” I said immediately.“I believe you.”
Her eyes searched mine, desperate for that truth like it was oxygen.
“He,” She coughed, a ragged sound, then winced, hand lifting toward her throat.
I glanced at the bruises again and it took everything in me not to lose it.
“He choked me,” she whispered.“I couldn’t, I couldn’t breathe.I fought him.I scratched him.I tried.”
“You did,” I murmured.“You did.”
