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“You're okay.” His good hand found mine, squeezing with surprising strength. “Tell me you're okay.”
“I'm fine.” The words came out as a sob. “Graham, look at you. You're the one who's hurt.”
“This?” He gestured weakly at his bandaged form. “This is nothing. Just a few bumps and bruises.”
“Bumps and bruises?” I stared at him in disbelief. “You have two broken ribs and a concussion.”
“Could have been worse.”
A doctor in scrubs appeared in the doorway, chart in hand. “Mr. Wallace, I'm Dr. Martinez. How are you feeling?”
“Ready to go home.”
Dr. Martinez smiled. “I'm afraid that's not happening for at least three days. The head injury was serious, and we need to monitor you for any complications.”
Graham's jaw tightened. “Doctor, I need to protect my girlfriend. There's someone after her, and I can't do that from a hospital bed.”
“Mr. Wallace, you can barely sit up without assistance. You're not protecting anyone until that brain of yours has time to heal.”
The finality in the doctor's voice left no room for argument.
“I'm staying,” I said before anyone could object.
“Joy, you don't have to—”
“I'm staying.” I squeezed Graham's hand. “I'm not leaving you.”
The hospital chair had clearly been designed by someone who'd never spent a night sleeping in one. After night two, I was longing for Graham’s recliner. The crick in my neck was no joke. Gray morning light filtered through the blinds, and Graham's steady breathing told me he was still asleep.
Voices in the hallway caught my attention. Familiar voices.
“Both brake lines were severed with a sharp blade. This wasn't an accident,” a voice said. It took me a moment to recognize who it was. Roan. He knew his way around a car… or truck.
“Motherfucker,” Seth's voice carried clearly through the partially open door. “This bastard tried to kill him.”
“And nearly succeeded,” Randy added. “If Graham hadn't been as experienced a driver as he is, if he hadn't known how to handle a vehicle at that speed…”
My stomach clenched. I kept my eyes closed, my breathing even, pretending to be asleep in case they peeked into the room.
“So, what's our next move?” Seth asked.
“We find this piece of shit and end him,” Jase said flatly.
“The police are involved now,” Randy reminded them. “Attempted murder changes everything.”
“Good,” Seth said. “Maybe now they'll take this seriously.”
“Nash was always taking this seriously,” Simon admonished.
“Gentlemen, I need you to leave this area,” a woman said. “You’re blocking our hallway.”
Their voices faded as they moved farther down the hall, leaving me alone with the crushing weight of my guilt. Graham had nearly died because of me. Because some twisted individual wanted me isolated and alone, willing to kill anyone who stood in his way.
I opened my eyes to find Graham watching me, his hazel gaze the most alert since he’d arrived.
“How long have you been awake?” I asked.
“Long enough to know you heard them talking.” His good hand reached out toward me, and I took it. “And long enough to see that look on your face.”
