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Hamish wipes the blood from his lip before he struggles to his feet. He glares at his son, and I can see the animosity in his eyes. “You would choose your sisters over me? Over your rightful place at my side?”
“They are my sisters.” That's all he says. It's all he has to say. The meaning is clear.
Hamish dusts himself off, straightening his coat, and then he turns to walk away.
“Hamish.” He glances around as I speak his name. “You come near my wife again, and they’ll never find you where I bury you. She is no longer your responsibility.”
He snarls but turns and leaves without a further word.
Dex widens his eyes, his hand going to his forehead. “I should have done more. I knew Letta was being hurt, but we needed that alliance. I put that before my sister.”
I don't have any sympathy for Dex. He put everything before his family and that is something I cannot accept. Because there is nothing I would put before mine.
“If you want to stay, I can't stop you, but if you hurt either of those women—”
“Save the threat. I can fill it in myself.”
The door opens, and this time it is Gemma who comes in. Her eyes slide between us, before resting on Dex. I see the uncertainty, and a hint of something else I can't place before she brings her attention back to me. “Who is this?”
“Dex, Elena and Letta's brother.”
She nods. “Elena is going to be okay. She has some broken ribs, a lot of bruising, but all things considered she got off lightly.” I want to tell my cousin that nothing about what happened to Elena was light.
“And Letta?” Dex asks.
Gemma lets out a breath. “Your sister has a serious head injury. She is in surgery at the moment having the pressure on her brain relieved. It's going to be a wait and see for a while, I'm afraid. There's no telling when she'll wake up. Or if she will. There's a lot of swelling, so all we can do is hope it will reduce in the next few hours following the surgery.”
I have to admit, I feel a little sorry for the prick. The way his face pales tells me he really does care about his sisters, even if he's made shitty choices when it comes to them.
“Kane, do you want to see Elena?”
I nod and follow my cousin back through the hallways into the treatment area. For some reason, my heart is racing as we get closer.
Gemma pushes the door open, and we step into the room. Elena is lying in the bed, small, fragile. It’s a side to her I have never seen. She is normally so fiery. I don't like this version of her.
The blankets are pulled up to her chest, and I wonder how painful her stomach is. I should have killed Michael Maloney slower. He deserved a thousand deaths for carving that shit into her stomach.
As I approach the bed, she doesn't turn to look at me. Every instinct in my body wants to gather her into my arms and get her the fuck out of here. Instead, I move cautiously.
“Elena?”
“You should go home.” Her dismissal stings, but I understand it. She is reeling from what she has suffered, but if she thinks she can push me away, she is wrong. This entire situation told me just how much I need her.
“Not without you.”
I watch as a tear careens down her cheek. Pain grips me at seeing her falling apart like this.
“How can you want me like this? He branded me, Kane.”
I grab her hand, which brings her gaze to mine. I see the agony in her irises as she tries to figure out what I'm thinking. “I don't care what that prick did to you. I don't care if he carved a thousand names on you. You are mine. My wife. And that is never changing. You can push me away, you can beg me to leave, but the only way I'm going anywhere is if you are with me.”
More tears fall, and I lower the rail on the bed. “Move over,” I order.
For a moment, I don't think she's going to comply. Then she scoots over in the bed, giving me room to perch on the edge. As soon as I'm lying down, I crush her against my chest. She sobs brokenly against me.
“I want you because you are my wife. Because I love you, and because there is nothing worth fighting for without you.”
Between her sobs, she speaks brokenly. “I love you too.” Relief floods me at hearing those words. Because as much as she needed them, so did I. “I’m sorry for everything.”
