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“I’m going to let the doctor know you’re awake,” he says suddenly, turning around, but a question tumbles out of my mouth.
“Is he dead?” I ask quietly.
Vincent turns back to me, and his eyes grow cold. “No, he’s not,” he says carefully. “He’s been arrested.”
I blink and nod.
That’s good.
John can’t hurt anyone else. And if he knows where April is…
“I wanted to kill him,” he continues, and my eyes widen. “I wanted to gut him for what he did to you. And if I knew I could get away with it, I would have.”
I stare at him, stunned. His scent, rich and inviting, morphs into something deeper.
I feel it in my soul.
Vincent would have killed for me.
It shouldn’t make me want him. It should terrify me.
Alarm bells go off in my mind, a warning that this isn’t normal.
But instead, his confession makes me feel safe.
“I…” I try to find the words, but the medications make my brain too sluggish. “Why?” I finally choke out.
His gaze falls from my face down to the blankets piled on me. He runs a long, thick finger along the top of my blankets. I realize that the standard-issue hospital blankets have been covered by plush, soft ones. Vincent’s finger pauses where my socked foot sticks out from under the blankets before running it up my arch. It flexes involuntarily.
I stare at him, shocked that he’s touching me. The last time we spoke, I was convinced he couldn’t stand me.
“I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake,” he murmurs, and I watch, mouth open, as he walks away from me.
He shuts the door behind himself before I can say anything else.
I blink, dazed, and not just from whatever is pumping through my system.
What the hell just happened?
I listen to the steady beep of my heart monitor. I move to sit up higher and look around my room.
It’s spacious. There’s a bathroom in the left corner, and to the right of me, near where Tammy was earlier, is a small table.
I didn’t notice it before, but my eyes widen in shock as I glance at it. Flowers, chocolates, and other gifts are spread out across the table.
And it’s not just grocery store chocolate. It’s a specialty brand I’ve treated myself to in the past.
The flowers are exquisite; lilacs and white roses sitting in a marble vase.
Next to the vase is a candle I recognize—one that I’ve smelled at a department store and walked away from when I saw the price.
It’s much too thoughtful. There are cards as well, a Siamese cat plush, and other trinkets.
And one lavender GET WELL SOON balloon.
The doctor walks in shortly after Vincent leaves, not followed by anyone else.
I pretend to not be disappointed.
