AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He’s twitching in his sleep.
I shift to sit up, and Carter’s eyes fly open. “What’s wrong? What do you need?”
He scrambles over to me and takes both of my clammy hands in his. I look away from him and squeeze my eyes shut. Another wave of tears threatens to drag me under. Carter stays on the floor, holding my hands until I start to drift off. Then he tucks me in and drifts back to his chair. Before I fall asleep, I open one eye and study his vague outline slumped against the chair.
In my dreams, Rich is still chasing me.
In the morning, Sam is the one sitting next to me, her hair a wild mess around her face while bundled up in a too-large coat. She sits up straighter when I stir and does her best to offer me a smile. I take one look at her face, see Tristan’s anguished expression, and my shoulders begin to shake.
Sam is by my side in two seconds. She climbs onto the bed, drapes an arm over my shoulders, and tucks me into her side. “You’re okay. You and the baby are okay, Isabella. Everything’s going to be fine.”
I throw an arm over Sam’s middle and sniff. “It’s not, though. I’m so sorry, Sam.”
Sam squeezes my shoulders. “What for? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
I lift my gaze up to hers and swallow past the tightness in my chest. “It’s my fault Tristan got stabbed, and then I had to leave him behind and—”
Sam shook her head. “What were you supposed to do, Isabella? Rich manipulated you.”
I press my lips together and say nothing.
Slowly, Sam stands up and walks over to the chair. She takes out a large bag and brings it over to me. “I didn’t know what else to do, so Paul took me to buy some clothes for the baby.”
The low pounding in my head intensifies.
Sam rummages through the bag and pulls out a dark-colored onesie. Then she takes out a few socks, a bib, and an assortment of other baby clothes. While she’s showing them to me, I study her face, everything from the dark circles under her eyes to the pale, ashen color of her cheeks. A part of me doesn’t want to be around Sam, either.
I can’t stand how patient and kind she’s being. Especially when she and I both know the truth.
Although Sam won’t come out and admit that she’s falling for Tristan, I know the truth. Since I’ve known her, I’ve watched her go through the same struggle, fighting a similar battle to mine, only to end up losing completely. Even if she won’t admit it, I know the truth.
Tristan means as much to her as Carter does to me. But since he is Carter’s second in command, he’s in the line of fire more often than not. Because of me, Tristan has been shot, stabbed, and beaten—his position within the Blackthorne empire threatened because he refused to fall in line.
I can’t help but wonder if his hate for me is justified.
“If you don’t like anything, I can return it,” Sam adds in a lighter voice. “Don’t feel pressured to accept any of it.”
I bite down on my bottom lip. “I love all of them, Sam. You didn’t have to do all of this.”
Sam shrugs, her cheeks regaining some color. “I wanted to. Besides, it’s good to have something else to talk about, and it gave Paul something to do. He’s been so worried about Tristan.”
My tongue feels heavy and awkward in my mouth. I open my mouth, but I have to swallow a few times before the words come out. “How is he?”
“Tristan’s fine. Doctors say he’ll make a full recovery, but he’ll have to take it easy for a few weeks because he lost a lot of blood.”
Knots form in the center of my stomach and tighten. “How bad was it?”
Sam begins to fold a few of the items, her gaze darting away from mine. “Bad enough that Carter was freaked out. He’s the one who found him first. He and Ernesto were in a panic when they did, and then when they couldn’t find you…”
I scrub a hand over my face. “I left Tristan behind.”
Sam shoves the last of the clothes into the bag and tucks it bag under the chair. “Yeah, because Rich made you. Tristan told us.”
I shake my head, a low ringing beginning in my ears. “Rich didn’t make me leave Tristan. Well, he did at first, but after we struggled with the gun, I took Rich’s car and left.”
Sam wheels around to face me, a furrow appearing between her brows. “What are you talking about?”
I close my eyes against the onslaught of images and bow my head. “I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong and that Rich was lying. I kept asking him to talk to Carter, but he kept giving me excuses.”
