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“No. No. No,” I sob. “Please. Stop. I can’t.”
I pinch my eyes shut, my body waiting for the blow, my mind-shattering, and the last of my will to survive fading.
I can’t.
Chapter 21
CHRISTOPHER
God, my heart.
Indescribable heartbreak shudders through me as Dash begins to weep.
Miss Sebastian pats me on the shoulder. “Give us a moment to calm her down.”
Rising to my feet, Dash lets out a shriek. Miss Sebastian injects her with something, and seconds later, her cries turn to whimpers before she grows quiet.
Aunt Leigh’s face is wet with tears as she moves onto her knees. She checks Dash’s vitals, then glances up at me. “Can you put her back on the bed so I can get the IV in her again?”
“Of course.”
I move in next to Dash, and then Aunt Leigh says, “Careful with her back.”
I nod as I slowly move my arms under Dash. She’s only wearing a bathrobe, but the fabric swallows her whole. Lifting her to my chest, I straighten up. My eyes scan over her bruised face, and it rips a chunk out of my heart.
I don’t want to let go of her, but knowing I don’t have a choice, I walk to the bed and carefully lay her down. Aunt Leigh quickly inserts the IV again, then she wipes the blood up from the previous site.
“What happened?” I ask.
“She came to. I don’t think she realizes she’s safe.” Aunt Leigh takes a quivering breath, struggling to keep control over her emotions, which is not something I’ve ever seen before. “It’s like she’s still there.”
Uncle Jax comes to stand next to the bed, and when his eyes scan over Dash, it looks like he takes a physical blow. When he staggers a step backward, I instantly place an arm behind him. His breathing begins to speed up, and then he shudders.
He lifts his hand to his mouth as a heartbreaking groan ripples from him. “God.”
Aunt Leigh makes a strangled sound, and when she moves toward Uncle Jax, I step back. Their arms fold around each other, and then Uncle Jax sinks to the ground, taking Aunt Leigh with him.
I can’t watch their sorrow. It’s too raw. Turning around, my gaze falls on my parents. Dad reaches a hand out to me, and my body moves. His fingers clamp around my arm, and then he pulls me against him.
There’s still no comfort. The worry has taken on a new shape. We might have found Dash, and yes, she’s alive… but… how the fuck will she recover from this?
“I have to call Noah,” Uncle Jax says. “He needs to be here.”
Fuck. We can’t keep it from everyone any longer.
“Danny,” I murmur to Dad.
“She knows. I’ve been keeping her updated. She’ll stop by after work,” Mom answers.
God, work.
Before I can say anything, Dad says, “I’ll take over until you’re ready to go back to the office. Don’t worry about anything.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I whisper. My eyes lock with his before I glance at Mom. “For everything.”
Without my parents, I don’t think I’d survive this.
“Noah,” I hear Uncle Jax say behind me. Turning, I see he’s on a call. “You need to come over. It’s Dash.” The strain in his voice guts me.
I walk to where Miss Sebastian is standing on the other side of the bed. Her eyes have not left Dash. Placing my arm around her shoulders, I ask, “She’ll recover, right?”
Miss Sebastian begins to nod, and then her face crumbles. I instantly pull her against my chest. “She will,” she sobs. “She has to.”
I close my eyes against the worry I hear in her voice.
We all stand around the bed, emotions calming before spiraling out of control again. It’s as if we’re already mourning the loss of Dash.
I reach for Dash’s hand and notice her engagement ring is gone. My fingers brush over hers. Leaning over her, I press a kiss to her hair because it’s the only safe spot, then I whisper, “I love you.”
Minutes later, Noah comes rushing into the room, and the moment his eyes land on Dash, his hands lift to cover his mouth. “Christ. What happened?”
Straightening up, I say, “She was kidnapped.”
“What?” he rasps as he moves closer, his eyes darting between his sister and me. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
Uncle Jax wraps an arm around his son, then pulls him to the side. While he brings Noah up to speed with things, my gaze lowers to Dash.
I take in the bruises, all different colors. Her lips are chapped as if she’s been out in the sun for days. Her cheeks are sunken, and it makes her look fragile as if she can break at any moment.
My eyes drift over her and seeing her broken nails and the bruises on her arms… it’s as if it only sinks in then.
The woman I love has been beaten within an inch of her life. I wasn’t there to protect her. I wasn’t there to comfort her.
