Easton touches my chin, guides my attention back to his steady gaze. “Hey,” he says gently. “Alejandro’s fine.”
My pulse slows slightly at the certainty in his voice.
“He didn’t bother to hide the evidence, so, yeah, they know he was there, but they have no clue how to track him down. Your cousin’s been a ghost for years, Eva.” He holds up the card with Alejandro’s scrawl as though it’s proof and says, “He knows how to stay invisible.”
The words sink in, calming me. Easton’s right. Alejandro has stayed off their radar for this long, and since leaving prison, I know he’s been involved in worse crimes than cutting off a rapist’s dick. All this will blow over, and once it does, he’ll be a ghost again. As long as he stops doing stupid shit like sneaking notes into hospitals littered with cops.
“Okay,” I finally say, releasing a breath. “I’m ready to hear the rest.”
He nods once. “Vincent told me the FBI has had eyes on Paul’s operation for years, but they needed more evidence. They talked him into snitching for a deal, and it turns out the operation is way bigger than Paul and his crowd. The bust is gonna be massive.” Whiskey eyes settle on mine, burning hotter than fire while tinged with something sweeter than reverence. “Do you know what that means? Not only did you stop Paul, you helped save thousands of people. You’re a hero, Eva.”
A shaky exhale leaves my parted lips. Other women, children. Little girls separated from their mothers. People who have been through what I have, or worse, and many who weren’t as lucky to get away on the first night.
When I was alone in my hospital room with too much time to think, there was a distinct moment resentment crept in like a toxic seed. Resentment I had to be the one to stop Paul. Why couldn’t someone else have stopped him? Why couldn’t someone have saved me, and my mom, a long time ago? Why did it have to be me?
But then I think of the way I stood up to Bridget and Vincent, of the certainty I’ve never had before growing in my voice, the closure blooming in my heart like the first signs of life. I don’t know if the resentment will ever fully go away, but with each moment that passes, it shrinks a little more, replaced by something that feels a lot like pride. When I was tied up in that bedroom, I never imagined I’d get to this point. I cringe at the memory, at the feeling of being so helpless, and sadness washes over me. He knew exactly how to fuck with my head. By the time Easton barged in and untied me, I was a shell of myself.
Doubt seeps into my mind as I stare at Easton, at the way he’s looking at me with unfiltered respect. I shake my head, my voice unsteady. “I was so lost when you came into that room. I wouldn’t have helped anyone if it wasn’t for you.”
His eyes darken at the memory, but when he brushes a tear from my cheek with his thumb, they soften a touch. “You would have fought no matter what, Eva. I just sped up the process.”
Conviction rings behind the words, and I nod, another tear slipping. He’s right. I’m a fighter. And he helped me figure that out. My heart swells and warms. Leaning close, I thank him the only way I want to. I kiss him.
Easton
Standing in the hallway in the children’s wing, my fingers rap on the wall I’m leaning against, eyes locked on the closed door across from me. Eva didn’t waver when she said she was ready to talk to the police, but she’s been in her room with them for forty-two minutes now. A light sweat works up my skin as I wait. It’s not supposed to take this long, is it?
The door swings open, and I push off the wall.
My mom exits and closes the door behind her. When she faces me, her skin is paler than I’ve ever seen it. Even her eyes are ghostly.
“Where’s Eva?” I ask, looking at the closed door.
My mom clutches her pearl necklace. “She ... she’s just wrapping up. They excused me for a moment.” Her eyes focus on me, and she frowns. “What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be out of bed.”
“I’m fine.” I push out a breath, run my fingers through my hair. “I’ll rest later.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She looks at the door separating us from Eva and shudders. “I think Eva has proven she can take care of herself.”
I cock a brow. That’s the most decent thing my mom’s ever said about her.
“Anyhow, I need to speak with you.” She eyes a nurse who pushes a kid in a wheelchair past us, then a set of parents speaking quietly a few doors down. “Alone. Let me walk you to your room.”
“We can talk here.”
She swallows and glances away. “No, we can’t.”
My brows furrow as I watch my mom. The visible discomfort running through her. “What is it?”
She scans the area, and her gaze lights up when it lands on an empty room a few steps away. “Perfect, see? That room is close enough you’ll be able to hear Eva if she comes out.” Touching my arm, she tugs me toward the open door, but when I don’t budge, she sighs. “Easton.” Her eyes shut briefly. “I need a moment alone with you. Please. That’s not too much to ask, is it?”
I’ve never seen my mom so exposed. I don’t know why it feels like a trick. Working my jaw, I mutter, “Two minutes,” and she nods before leading me into the room.
She sits on the visitors’ sofa while I stay by the door, leaning against a wall again for support, to make sure I won’t miss Eva. When my mom looks at me and apparently realizes I’m not coming any closer, she inhales deeply, stands, and moves toward me.
My eyes narrow while she digs through her handbag and pulls out her phone.
She scrolls for a moment, then pauses. Something I don’t recognize passes through her eyes before she holds up the screen. “Look at this.”
