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I leaned forward slightly and moved away the few strands of hair covering her face. I let my fingers linger there, hoping for a reaction from her. When I didn’t get anything, I sighed and took my hand away.
Ayla’s chest was moving slowly up and down, her breathing slightly labored. I felt powerless as I stared at her.
Shifting my eyes away from her, I looked at Viktor, who was standing behind me. His face was grim and worried. “Where is Sam?” I growled.
Sam was our personal doctor, who lived on the estate. The hospital wasn’t always a good choice and we needed someone who would be quick on their feet without asking us questions. The best option was having someone in the same lifestyle.
And Sam fit the role perfectly.
“I’m here,” Sam said as he rushed forward.
His gaze roamed over Ayla. “Damn it,” he whispered. Sam leaned forward and I regretfully let go of Ayla and stood up, moving out of his way.
He sat down in my place and took the towel off from Ayla’s hand, slightly hissing at the sight.
“Is it bad? How bad is it?” I asked as pins and needles crept up my legs. I grew more panicked when I saw Sam’s pensive face.
He shook his head and whispered while he continued to inspect Ayla’s cut. “I need to clean the blood away to see how bad it is. Her breathing is shallow, but it is okay. Her heart rate isn’t that bad either.”
That was good. That should be good. I kept repeating the words over and over again in my head as I tried to calm down.
Sam cleaned some of the blood from Ayla’s arm and we saw a long cut going vertically up her arms. I wanted to roar. I couldn’t imagine the pain that she must have been through. The thought of her going through this felt like a serrated edge over my thumping heart.
“Thank God,” I heard Sam breathe out.
“What?” I asked, leaning forward.
“The cut is not that deep. Cutting vertically could be deadly, but she didn’t put much pressure in the cut, so no major artery or veins were damaged,” he explained. “She is lucky she is still alive. It’s obvious she’s lost some blood, but not a lot. She was found fairly quickly. I wish I could use the skin glue. It would be less painful, but the best option is stitches.” He looked up at me, waiting for my response.
Why the fuck was he waiting?
“Just do it then. Stop wasting time!”
He nodded and got to work.
It took him a few hours to clean up the wound, stitch the cuts, and bandage it carefully. The whole time, I paced the room, growing impatient. I couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling. As the minutes and hours passed, no matter how hard I tried to hide it, I couldn’t.
I was worried. Scared. And helpless.
Maddie was still silently crying. Phoenix had his arms wrapped around her, trying to calm her down. Nikolay and Viktor were both leaning against the wall, trying to look disinterested, but they were clearly worried by the look on their face.
Nikolay’s cold face was ashen and he kept his eyes on Ayla, while Viktor was fidgeting around, clearly showing his nervousness.
And Lena. She almost fainted when she came into the room. Viktor had to take her away as she cried.
“Done.” Sam sighed from his spot next to Ayla.
I stopped pacing and shifted my gaze to her.
“Is she going to be okay?” Maddie asked, her voice soft and croaky from the tears.
“If you are talking about her wound, yes. I stopped the bleeding. She is breathing fine. But emotionally and mentally, I don’t know. This could have been a suicide attempt, but if it was, she would have cut deeper. As long as she stays unconscious, we won’t get our answers. But what’s more important is figuring out why so we can help her.”
“But there was nothing wrong with her,” Maddie argued as she stepped out of Phoenix’s protective embrace.
“Did she try this before?” Sam asked.
“Not that I know of,” Maddie replied. She walked closer and sat down beside Ayla.
“There could be a lot of factors in play. The biggest of them all is depression. Something obviously led her to do this. Does she have nightmares?”
My eyes widened. “Ayla has nightmares. She was even hallucinating that she had blood on her.”
“Nightmares, hallucinations, and a suicide attempt,” Sam said, his gaze still on Ayla. “My best guess is post-traumatic stress disorder.”
“Fuck,” I swore, running my fingers through my hair in frustration. It was right there in front of me. It was so fucking obvious and yet I didn’t see it.
Or maybe I didn’t want to see it. I had refused to acknowledge her pain.
I saw Nikolay moving away from the wall and he took a protective step forward. He crossed his arms over his chest as he stared at Sam expectantly.
