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Sam nods, and her expression softens. “I know, but you had a chance to walk away, and you didn’t. So, like it or not, this is your life now.”
I exhale. “Can’t Tristan talk to Carter?”
Sam pulls a face and shakes her head, wisps of dark hair flying out of her bun. “He’s tried, but Carter won’t listen to anyone. He barely sleeps, barely eats, and spends most of his time in your room or prowling the hallway. I don’t think he’s even set foot outside the hospital since you’ve been here.”
I gasp. “But he… he can’t be here all the time. He’s got an empire to run.”
Sam sinks into the nearest chair and runs her fingers through her hair. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but when this is all over, I’m not even sure there’s going to be an empire left.”
Fear and panic snake their way through me and climb up my chest.
“What are we going to do, Sam?”
Sam throws her head back and stares up at the ceiling. “I don’t know what the right thing to do is. I honestly don’t, but I do know that it has to start with you and Carter talking. I don’t see another way forward.”
“We tried talking,” I whisper, mostly to myself. “And it didn’t work out for us.”
On the contrary, it just made things worse. I’ve never felt further away from the man I love, and it is eating me up inside. Almost as much as the guilt and shame are.
Sam sighs. “I think you need to try again. Your issues are not going to be resolved in a day, Isabella.”
I press my lips together and don’t say anything.
Sam gets up to leave the room, and Carter bursts in, his eyes wide and wild. He points at Sam, beads of sweat forming on his forehead and down the sides of his face. “Get onto the bed, now.”
Sam’s brows furrow together. “What the hell is the matter with you? This isn’t the time or place for—”
Carter crosses over to Sam and places a hand over her mouth. “For fuck’s sake, I need you to stop arguing with me and do as you’re told. Natori men are here, and they’re looking for Isabella.”
I swing my legs over the side of the bed, and Carter helps me to my feet. “Where are we going to go? There’s nowhere for us to hide.”
Carter grips my hand in his. “Yes, there is. Get under the bed.”
On shaky legs, Sam climbs onto the bed and draws the covers up to her chest. Her eyes are wide and shining with worry as Carter slides across the floor and under the bed. After a brief pause, he pulls me down, and I follow his lead, pausing to tuck myself into his side, my heart hammering unsteadily the entire time.
Sam bolts up, retrieves a heavy blanket from the closet, and returns to the bed. She lets the sides of the blanket cover both sides of the bed, offering better coverage. Then the bed dips and creaks as she climbs onto it and releases a deep and shaky breath.
“What about Tristan and Paul?” Sam’s voice is low, but there’s no mistaking the fear in it. “Are they safe?”
“Tristan was discharged a few minutes ago. He, Paul, and Ernesto were on their way out when they got the news. Paul and Ernesto are nearby, but Tristan is waiting somewhere safe nearby for backup.” Carter’s voice is a low whisper that sends shivers racing up and down my spine. He has one arm around my shoulders, and the other is between us, resting against my stomach.
I feel like I’m going to throw up.
“What if they recognize Sam?” I whisper directly into Carter’s ear. “We shouldn’t be asking her to do this.”
“They won’t recognize her,” Carter insists in an equally soft voice. “She’s going to be fine.”
“Somebody’s coming,” Sam hisses before throwing herself back onto the mattress. Moments later, the door clicks open, and I hold my breath as three sets of heavy footsteps come into the room. Carter’s grip on my shoulders tightens, and I bury my face in the crook of his neck.
If they find us under the bed, they’re going to drag me away, and Carter isn’t going to be able to do a thing to stop them.
He’s only one man. And even on his worst days, he’s had backup.
Even I know that if push comes to shove, Carter is not going to be able to save Sam and me.
I squeeze my eyes shut, letting Carter’s smell wash over me, and pray he doesn’t have to make that decision. Carter is as still as a statue, but I feel the erratic pulse of his heart. I strain to hear what’s happening, but I can barely make out anything over the pounding in my ears. Then Carter places a hand over my mouth, and my eyes fly open to look at him.
My beautiful, broken man is looking at me like I’m his salvation. Like I’m the answer to his prayers.
