Fuck, I couldn’t wait that long.
Even three days drove me insane.
I shook my head. “I can’t be a—away for that l—length of ti—time.”
Don’t give up on me, Nila.
I had to be there to keep her safe. She couldn’t be subjected to more horror—especially at the hands of my bastard father and brother.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
My heart squeezed like a fucking lemon, cauterizing my insides with citric acid at the thought of her being so vulnerable and alone.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Ambrose, but you’re not fit to leave. And you’re under my care until I say you are.” Turning his attention to the nurse, he waved her closer. “Give me that phone number. We best let the family know he’s awake.”
My heart burst through my ribs. “Wh—what family?”
Don’t tell my bastard father.
I’d be poisoned or slaughtered before the day was done.
Doctor Louille reached for the phone on the white bedside table. Everything in the room was either white, glass, or light blue. A flat-screen TV hung on the wall, while a small table and chairs squashed in the corner.
“The woman who dropped you here, of course.” He gnawed on his bottom lip as he dialled a number and put the phone to his ear. He waited for it to connect. “Yes, hello, Ms. Ambrose? Yes, it’s Doctor Jack Louille calling.”
A pause.
“I have some good news. He’s just woken up. I’ll put him on.”
Covering the mouthpiece, he passed the phone to me. My mind whirled, trying to keep up. I shook my head. What if this was a trap? What if it was Bonnie?
The doctor didn’t take my hesitation as any sign to stop his persistence. “It’s your sister. She’s called every hour for the past few days. Get her off my back and let her know you’re okay.” Nudging the phone into my hands, he said, “Talk to her. Rest. I’ll be back later to answer any more questions and assess your pain levels. And keep your arse in bed, or else.”
My fingers curled around the phone.
No promises.
I was running as soon as I could breathe without wanting to throw up.
I trembled, battling tiredness and the thought of talking to someone still atHawksridge, someone I loved, someone I’d failed as much as I’d failed Nila.
Waiting until the doctor and nurse had left, I held the phone to my mouth. “H—hello?”
The longest pause crackled in my ear.
“H—hello? You there?”
A sniff came down the line. “About bloody time, you bloody arse.”
My heart beat stronger.
I might have failed Nila.
I might have been dead for a few days.
But Jasmine had achieved the impossible. If she’d kept me alive, I had to trust she’d done the same for Nila.
“You al—always had a gr—great way with your t—temper, Jaz.”
