"She won't be alone," Rafe said immediately. His hand found mine again, interlacing our fingers like he couldn't bear not to touch me. "Not for a second."
"I want to go home," I said, then hesitated. Home. The penthouse where I'd been attacked just hours ago. The place where glass had shattered across marble floors, where blood had spilled, where Edward and Lucia had been bound and beaten because they'd had the misfortune of being there when my stalker decided to pay a visit.
Rafe seemed to read my thoughts. "We can go to a hotel," he offered softly.
I shook my head then immediately winced at the movement. "No. I want to go to our home." I met his eyes, needing him to understand. "I won't let that bastard take that from us too."
He nodded once, then turned back to the doctor. "We'll take the discharge papers."
Thirty minutes later, doped up on pain medication that dulled the worst edges of my discomfort, I sat in a wheelchair being pushed toward the hospital exit. Rafe had disappeared briefly to handle the paperwork and make a few calls, leaving me with anurse who chattered about the weather as if I hadn't nearly been murdered that morning.
When Rafe returned, he had a garment bag slung over one shoulder. "Clothes," he explained, seeing my questioning look. "Izzy dropped them off. Said there was no way in hell she was letting you leave in a hospital gown."
A lump formed in my throat at the mention of my friend. "How did she know?"
"I called her after they took you into emergency. She called Evie, who called Liam, who called Tristan..." He shrugged, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "Apparently our friends drop everything when we need them."
In the car, Rafe drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on my thigh as if he needed the constant reminder that I was still there. The pain medication made everything slightly fuzzy, but I was clearheaded enough to notice his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, the tightness around his eyes, the way he kept glancing at me like I might disappear if he looked away too long.
"I'm okay," I told him, covering his hand with my uninjured one. "I'm right here."
He exhaled slowly. "I know. I just..." His voice caught. "When I heard you scream and then the call cut off, I thought…I couldn't…" He broke off, jaw clenched tight.
"But you came for me," I reminded him. "You always come for me."
His fingers tightened on my thigh. "Always," he promised.
When we pulled up to our building, I braced myself for the wave of fear I expected to feel. But looking up at the sleek glass and steel structure, all I felt was determination. This was our home. I refused to let it be tainted.
Rafe came around to help me from the car, his arm sliding around my waist to support me. We moved slowly through thelobby, where the security team carefully watched us. In the elevator, I leaned into Rafe's solid warmth, drawing strength from his presence alone.
The doors opened onto our floor and we made the short walk down the hallway toward our door. But when it swung open, I stood frozen in disbelief.
Our penthouse was full of people. Not police or crime scene technicians, but our friends. Tristan and Liam were sweeping up shattered glass, methodically working their way across the floor where I'd fought for my life just hours before. Kate moved between rooms with garbage bags, directing the cleanup with the same efficiency she brought to managing Tristan's chaotic schedule. In the corner, little Millie sat on a stool, carefully sorting through a box of unbroken items, her small face scrunched in concentration.
And there was Izzy, gathering the larger pieces of broken furniture. She spotted us first, her mouth opening to say something, but she was cut off by a cry from across the room.
"Cece!"
Evie stood frozen in the center of the foyer, a broom clutched in her hands, her pregnant belly straining against her sweater. The moment our eyes met, she dropped the broom with a clatter and rushed toward me, moving faster than I would have thought possible in her condition. Before I could warn her about my injuries, she'd enveloped me in a fierce hug that sent pain shooting through my ribs and wrist.
I bit back a whimper, unwilling to pull away from the comfort of my sister's embrace despite the discomfort. Tears streamed down her face as she finally pulled back to examine me while her hands framed my face with such gentleness it made my heart ache.
"I'm okay, Evie," I assured her, though the bruises visible above the collar of my shirt told a different story.
"You stupid, brave idiot," she half-sobbed, half-laughed. "When Rafe called… I thought… we all thought—"
"I know." I caught one of her hands and squeezed. "But I'm still here. Still annoying the hell out of you."
She laughed through her tears, wiping at her face with her free hand. "We'll have quite the story to tell Mom and Dad when they get back from their tropical getaway next week," she said with a watery smile.
I groaned and looked at Liam, who'd moved to stand protectively beside his wife. "Can't you extend their stay by another week?" I begged.
"Already tried," he admitted. “But they’re not interested. Said they missed their daughters too much.”
Rafe's arm slid around my waist, his palm splaying against my hip in a gesture that was both possessive and supportive. He seemed unwilling to let me go, even surrounded by friends in our own home, and the warmth of his touch anchored me as more people moved forward to welcome us back.
Tristan clasped Rafe's shoulder in that silent way men have of communicating volumes without words. Kate hugged me carefully, mindful of my injuries in a way Evie hadn't been. Izzy punched Rafe lightly on the arm, then kissed my unbruised cheek.
