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“Let her go!” She scratches at his hand, her voice raw.
I touch his arm and shake my head. As much as I feel hurt and want to cry, I don’t.
Jeremy reluctantly releases her, but Ava doesn’t pause before coming at me again.
This time, with tears in her eyes. “We trusted you! We let you become our sister from another mister, but you…you dare to shoot Creigh… How could you do that when he cared about you so much? Who the fuck are you to steal him from us?”
My brother tries to shield me, but I step forward and let her hit me. I don’t try to remain strong. Ican’t. The harder she cries and hits, the more I let the tears loose.
“Ava…” Cecily tries to pull her off me. “If Aunt Elsa or Uncle Aiden sees, we’ll be in deep shit.”
“I don’t care!” she screams. “I thought this bitch would make Creigh happy and God knows he needed that, but she’s sending him to his grave!”
“I didn’t want… I’m so sorry…” I whisper between sobs. “I only…I only thought about saving my brother. I swear I didn’t want to hurt him. I swear…”
“Leave,” Ava all but growls, her face flushed, her cheeks tear-streaked. “The only reason we haven’t reported this to the police is because Landon is leaving the ball in Creighton’s court for when he wakes up, and none of us want to upset Aunt Elsa any further, so we said it was a robbery. But I swear to fuck, Annika, if something happens to Creigh, I’m gonna fly to the States and personally kill you.”
“Not if you end up dead on the way,” Jeremy says in a deadpan voice.
Ava continues glaring at me, but it’s Cecily who glares at my brother. “I suggest you take her and go.”
“And I suggest you shut the fuck up,” he says with chill-inducing calm.
Cecily meets his harsh eyes for one more beat, then drags Ava away. “Let’s go.”
“Don’t ever show your face around us again,” Ava whisper-yells. “Murderer.”
And then they disappear, leaving me with a choked sob and a pain so deep, I just want to…end it all.
30
AIDEN
“Sweetheart?”
Elsa doesn’t hear me. Her gaze is glued to our youngest son's unmoving body through the window.
He’s been hooked to those machines for two days now, and there’s still no sign of him coming back to life.
To us.
A fact that’s been stressing Elsa and slowly robbing her of the light that I’ve always loved about her.
The same light that Creighton put there the moment he came into our lives.
Now, he’s slowly but surely sucking it away.
“Elsa,” I call again, more firmly this time.
My wife finally slides her attention from the window to me. Her beautiful long hair has lost its shine in the span of forty-eight hours, her face is pale, and dark circles dim her usually electric-blue eyes.
They’re lifeless now, like the rest of her.
I’ll commit murder before I let anything rob away my wife’s life source.
At this very moment, that happens to be Creighton.
“You should go back to the hotel and rest.” It’s surprising how calm and collected I sound, considering the circumstances.
