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I usually love having a few hours with nothing to do. It doesn’t happen often when you run your own business. Work doesn’t stop just because I’m not baking, and when it does, there’s always something. Laundry. A football game. Dinner at Belle’s house or a girls’ night out. But today, while I sit in this room, feeling slightly claustrophobic simply because I know I’m not supposed to leave, I’m not enjoying it.
I’ve tried to get lost in my favorite fantasy world for the last few hours, but it isn’t working. I’ve read the same chapter about the werewolf rejecting his mate at least three times, and other than him being an asshole, I couldn’t tell you anything else about it.
Staring at the book open on my phone, I contemplate toggling over to my contact list and calling Dean. I haven’t seen Sebastian since this morning, and I need someone to tell me what’s going on or I swear to God, I’m stealing someone’s keys and driving myself to the hospital. But then, just when I’ve reached my limit and am about to abandon this ship, I hear voices downstairs.
Specifically, I hear one very distinct voice telling someone he doesn’t need help.
He might not need it now, but he’s going to in a minute when I kill him.
So much for keeping up his end of the bargain.
My legs carry me down the stairs so quickly, my feet don’t feel the carpet beneath my toes. When I get to the bottom step, I’m met by a tired-looking Marco.
“Ma’am,” he stutters. Hesitance evident in his weary eyes.
“Don’t even think about it, Marco. Where is he?” I’m ready to bulldoze through this man if that’s what it takes to find Sam.
When I move to pass him, he moves with me, effectively blocking my path. “Miss Amelia, I can’t let you...”
Yeah, I don’t think so. “Marco. I like you. You’re a sweet guy. But if you don’t move the hell out of my way, I’m going to scream at the top of my lungs. And we both know if I scream, Sam will be here immediately.” I raise my brows. “What do you think he’ll do then?”
The color drains from his face.
“Now,” I smile sweetly, “move.” I push past him, not waiting for his answer and follow the sound of Sam’s voice down the hall before bumping into Nonna.
I can tell from the look on her face she’s not thrilled with Sam’s choices at the moment either. But unlike me, she’s allowed to leave and is heading to church.
After contemplating whether to stow away in the back of her car, I continue down the hall, forcing myself to slow down and peek inside the office rather than slamming the door open like I want to.
“Come in, Snow. I know you’re there.” Sam’s voice is still scratchy from the anesthesia, and I’m betting, lack of sleep.
When I walk through the door, Sam and Dean both stare at me.
Dean is standing on the other side of the room, still wearing the same rumpled suit from yesterday. His honey-brown hair is sticking up, and dark circles are heavy under his eyes. Doesn’t look like anyone got any sleep last night.
Sam is seated behind the massive wooden desk in sweatpants and a t-shirt. His complexion is dull, and the cuts and stitches are a stark contrast to his pale skin.
I walk slowly into the room, taking my time and trying to control my words.
My mother used to tell me to choose my words and use my words.
It’s worth a try.
I cross the room and lean against the desk, facing this beautiful, stupid man and allow my voice to betray my emotions for one brief moment. “What happened to ‘I stay safe, you stay safe’?” The words come out on a whisper while my hands move gently through his hair and trace his face.
“Snow...” Sam’s hand reaches out for me, but I smack it away.
“Are you fucking stupid, Samuel?” Guess I chose my words.
“I—” he starts to answer.
“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say,” I cut him off. “You were supposed to stay in the goddamn hospital. What were you thinking?” I push off the desk and move out of reach. “You said you’d stay safe. This isn’t safe, genius. Did a doctor say it was safe for you to leave the hospital?”
When Sam doesn’t answer, I push harder. “Well, did he? Because I’m guessing not.”
He leans his head back against the chair and closes his eyes. “Are you going to let me speak?”
