Page 81 of The Malibu Destiny

Funny how much I care about the old man's happiness now. When he was sober, he was the kind of dad who'd spend hours teaching me to throw a curveball. He's got that same gentleness Cameron has—the brother who never raises his voice even when he should. And here's Dad, sitting beside my hospital bed after driving six hours from Carmel, while none of my brothers made the trip. Not that I blame them. They've got their own fires to put out.

Dad shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his weathered hands fidgeting with his phone. "Your brothers are here," he says, glancing toward the door where the fluorescent hallway light spills in. "I'll go find them." His eyes dart to the nurse's station visible through the half-open blinds. "We're not supposed to crowd around the hospital room. The protocols are people can only come in two by two—like Noah's ark." He attempts a smile that doesn't quite reach his tired eyes.

A smile tugs at my lips. I stand corrected. All seven of my brothers drove the full six hours to be here. My chest should swell with gratitude, but the morphine has wrapped everything in cotton. Still, beneath the haze, a cold realization forms: they wouldn't have come unless something was seriously wrong. Did the doctors tell them something they didn't tell me? Were they racing against time to say goodbye?

Cameron's the first one through the door, flashing that million-dollar smile. "Rome," he says, voice thick with relief. "We almost lost you."

Lost me? From a shoulder wound? Give me a break.

"What happened?" My throat feels like sandpaper.

"Two hours in surgery. Touch and go the whole time." Cameron's smile fades. "Bullet nicked an artery. You nearly bled out right there in the shop before the ambulance even arrived. Then surgery and you’ve been out ever since.” He shakes his head. "Man, you've got to stop with this hero complex."

My jaw tightens despite the pain meds. "Listen, jackass," I growl, "if I hadn't stepped in, Lilith would be in the morgue instead of me in this bed." I turn away, wincing. Even drugged to the gills, Cameron still manages to piss me off. Hero complex. What was I supposed to do? Let the woman I love die? Not a chance. I'd walk barefoot over broken glass for her. A bullet? Small price to pay.

Cameron holds his palms up. "Easy, easy now. I'm just trying to tell you to take it easy for awhile. You're going to have to dial it back for a few months while your shoulder heals."

Fuck that. I'm supposed to be training with Max for the Ironman next year. My shoulder will heal up in no time. No matter how much rehab I'll have to do to get it there.

Chapter Fifty

LILITH

Oh my god. My hands won't stop trembling, even hours later. Every time I blink, I see that wild-eyed man, his knuckles white around the matte black pistol, the barrel wavering between Roman and me like a cobra deciding where to strike. The hospital's antiseptic smell burns my nostrils, mixing with the lingering copper scent of blood that seems to have soaked into my skin. My soul sisters have been texting non-stop—Jade sending healing crystals via DoorDash, Hazel promising to cleanse my aura once I'm home.

Roman's back in my life somehow, his tall frame now crumpled in starched white sheets, monitors beeping a rhythm that had been terrifyingly erratic just hours ago. His eyelids fluttered open hours after his emergency surgery, revealing those stormy eyes I thought I'd never see again. The relief flooded through me like warm honey, but the doctor's grim expression tells me we're only at the beginning of this winding, treacherous path.

A part of me melts at the sight of him, my heart fluttering like the pages of a book caught in a summer breeze. I love him with an intensity that makes my chest ache. He saved my life—not metaphorically, but literally.

The police report confirmed what I already knew: the wild-eyed man who stormed into my shop that day, knocking over crystal displays and sending tarot cards scattering across the hardwood floor, was deep in the grip of a meth-induced psychosis. I still see those dilated pupils when I close my eyes, the hand gun glinting under the amethyst glow of Raven’s shop lights. If Roman hadn't burst through the door, ready for a fight, I'd be nothing but a crime scene photo.

Another part of me twists with anxiety. My fingers fidget with the moonstone pendant at my throat as I wonder how Sera could possibly keep quiet about me and my beliefs and the darker truths about Roman's father that could shatter everything Roman and Michael has built.

I step into Roman's room, my heart lifting when his face brightens at the sight of me. His smile—God, that smile could power all of California during a blackout. "Lilith," he murmurs, extending his hand across the starched hospital sheets. I take it as I sink into the chair beside him, my knees suddenly weak. "You holding up okay?"

I can only shake my head. The irony nearly makes me laugh—or cry. He's the one with tubes snaking from his arm, monitors beeping out his vital signs, bandages covering where a bullet tore through him and nearly drained his life away before the ambulance even arrived. Yet here he is, concerned about me.

"I should be asking you that," I say, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze while brushing back a lock of hair from his forehead.

"Jack told me why you left," Roman says, his voice low. "It's handled, Lilith. All of it."

My brow furrows. "Sera⁠—"

"Isn't going to bother us anymore." His eyes hold mine, steady and certain. "Trust me."

"But how⁠—"

"That's all I can say right now." A flash of discomfort crosses his face, tightening the skin around his eyes. "Tomorrow, we're out of here. I've had enough of this place. I'll have my pilot fly the chopper back to LA since I sure as hell can’t right now.”

I nod, but anxiety still gnaws at my insides. What if he's underestimating her?

As if reading the doubt written across my face, he squeezes my hand again. "Sera is not a problem anymore. I promise."

I tilt my head, studying him. Not mind-reading—just Roman knowing exactly what I'm thinking, as always. Our connection runs that deep.

I swallow hard. "I believe you."

His eyes hold mine. "Lilith," he says, the rough edge in his voice sending a shiver through me. "Remember when I said nothing would hurt you while I breathe?" He gestures to his bandaged shoulder. "I meant it."