I didn’t do that. It was my career. I put that first. It had nothing to do with the fact that Mom died young and left us all behind.
Except her accusation cut a little too close to my heart, making me rethink just how much weight I put on my career, causing me to live a lonely life on the road.
“It’s okay to care about her, Sam. Just make sure you really don’t want more than what you have before she decides to walk away.”
And with that, my sister left me alone in the hall to contemplate her words. The truth was, I did feel something for Cassidy, and I didn’t want to admit how much it was affecting me. Tonight had only proven to me that I didn’t have my shit under control.
“Sam?”
Caroline stood just down the hall, waving for me to follow her. I hustled to catch up with her as she snuck me down the hallway toward Cassidy. Nausea swirled in my stomach at the thought of seeing her beaten and broken, but I shoved that aside. I had to see her.
“Her parents are on the way, so I would guess you only have a few minutes,” she whispered, leaving me just outside the room.
My hands shook at the thought of seeing her again, all bloody and cut up. But I shoved the discomfort down and stepped into the room, sucking in a ragged breath when I saw her lying in the bed.
She was mostly cleaned up, her cuts covered in bandages and her leg in a stabilizing cast until the plaster could be put on. She looked so fucking terrible, and it was all my fault. I vowed to protect her, and here she was, in a fucking hospital bed.
One step at a time, I forced myself to go to her. If I only had a few minutes with her, I needed to take it while I could. To tell her how sorry I was, even if she couldn’t hear me.
But the moment I touched her hand, the words died on my lips.
So, instead, I pressed my lips to her bruised knuckles and sat with her, trying to tell myself that I didn’t really need her. That none of this was more than sex.
But as I stared at her in that bed, I knew it was all a lie, and eventually, I was going to have to face the fact that this feeling building inside me would eventually need an outlet.
And the ring wouldn’t be of any help to me when I decided what my future would hold.
32
CASSIDY
Groaning from the excruciating headache,I peeled my eyes open, wondering why in the hell I passed out on the couch instead of making it to my bed.
Except when I finally opened my eyes, I saw my parents staring down at me.
“Mom? Dad? Why are you in my house?”
Mom burst into tears, and Dad rushed over, picking up my hand. I instantly winced at the pain from just the single touch.
“It’s okay, honey. You’re alright,” Dad said reassuringly, brushing my hair back from my forehead, just like he did when I was a little girl and was sick.
“What are you talking about?” I croaked.
God, I really needed some water. But as I rolled my head on the pillow, I realized two things. One, my house did not have white walls. And two, I did not have plastic pink cups anywhere in my house.
“Where am I? And why am I in this itchy gown?”
Slowly, sensations started coming back to me. A numbness throughout my whole body became clearer by the second. The white of the room grew brighter, along with light shining inthrough the large windows. And there was something covering one eye that I only now realized was possibly a bandage. Either that or I was a pirate, and this was a new look for me.
I was going with that as panic rose in my chest. It was better than the alternative—that I had lost an eye and was now going to sport an eyepatch for the rest of my life.
Although that was very similar to the pirate thing.
“Pirates wear eyepatches because they lose an eye,” I said, my panic threatening to suck me under.
“What, darling?”
“Pirates wear eyepatches. And my body is numb! Do I have a wooden leg as well?”
