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Liam stops in his tracks, pain etched over every feature as his eyes widen, locking with mine. “Ana, I’m sorry,” he says. His voice suddenly contrite, but I’m already turning back to Alexandre, tears streaming down my cheeks as I feel his blood streaking my hands, hot and sticky between my fingers. Max moves between Yvette’s body and Alexandre, reaching out to help me.
“We need to get him into the bed,” Max says. “Someone grab cloths, hot water, anything you can find to stop the bleeding.”
Liam is frozen in place, his expression startled, as if things had taken a turn he didn’t expect. “Someone move, now!” Max snaps, and then he looks back at me. “Can you help me get him into bed, Ana?”
I nod, feeling dizzy, but determined not to let Alexandre die if I can help it. “I’ll try,” I say softly, but Niall is at my shoulder, gently steering me away.
“I’ll do it, lass,” Niall says in his raspy voice, his hand soft on my arm as he nudges me away from Alexandre. “It won’t help him if he’s jostled too much getting him up. Grab towels to keep the blood from getting on the bed, lass, and those cloths and water, if you want to help.”
I nod numbly, stepping back as Max and Niall lift Alexandre up. He groans faintly with pain, a sound that goes straight to my heart as the two men step around Yvette’s body, no one caring to move it as they carry Alexandre towards the bed.
I push past Liam, who grabs for my arm. “Ana, I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I wanted to get him out of our lives. Every second I’ve spent with you since we were reunited, he’s been there, haunting us. He’s always fucking there, and I didn’t think he would ever leave you alone, the baby—”
“No.” I shake my head, pulling away. “You wanted revenge. At least be honest with yourself and me, Liam—”
“I wanted to protect you!”
“And I want to feel safe!” I stare at him, biting my lip hard against more tears. “But I also need to trust that you won’t go behind my back and make my choices for me.” I move away from him as he reaches for me again, shaking my head. “We’ll talk about this later, Liam. I need to help Alexandre right now to fix what you’ve done.”
Niall and Max are getting him settled in the bed when I come back with my arms full of hotel towels and a few hot wet cloths in my hand. Max is leaning over Alexandre, a vial of oil in one hand and his thumb swiping over the pale-faced man’s forehead with the other, murmuring quietly. A few of the words drift towards me—may the Lord who frees you from sin save you and raise you up,and then a moment later,Our Father, who art in heaven—
A chill runs down my spine. “Is it that bad?” I ask quietly, my voice so hushed that it’s hardly audible. “To need last rites?”
Max pauses, looking at me. “If I’m being honest, no,” he says calmly.
“It’s a sin to lie.”I hand Max one of the wet cloths as I stack the towels on the edge of the bed, looking at Alexandre’s pale face. I reach out to touch his hand, wincing at how cold it is, and Alexandre’s eyes flutter open at the touch, glazed and pained.
Max smiles at me. “See? He’s awake. It’s not a lie. But I have seen in the past how such injuries can take a turn for the worse very quickly. I thought it best to do it anyway, as a precaution.” Max’s mouth twists in a wry smirk. “After all, considering what you and Liam have told me, I think his mortal soul is already in enough danger.”
“Petit,”he whispers, and I try to force a smile, my hand still on his.
“Alexandre, I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be.” He winces as Niall cuts his shirt away to reveal the wound, being none too gentle as he yanks the cloth free. “Ah!” Alexandre groans as Max presses the wet cloth to the wound, wiping away and staunching the blood, reaching for a clean towel to help with the blood as he cleans the area.
“You’re going to be okay,” I whisper through tears. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, I swear—”
“It’s not your fault,petit. It’s his,” Alexandre says, narrowing his eyes. I turn to see Liam standing at the foot of the bed, his hands empty now, the gun put away. His face is drawn, as if he’s regretting what he’s done, only now it’s too late.
He was right about one thing, this has all gone too far. More than anything else, I want—need—it to end.
“He isn’t who you think he is,petit,” Alexandre murmurs, sucking in another deep, struggling breath. “Petit—”
“Shh. Stop talking.” I squeeze his hand, reaching out to pass Max another clean towel as he sets the bloodied ones aside. “Now isn’t the time. You need to save your strength.”
Alexandre smiles weakly. “I have almost no strength left,petit. But you must—” He takes a deep, rattling breath, his body convulsing slightly as his hand tightens around mine, his eyes fluttering shut with pain. “Ask him—ask Liam—ask him about—Franco—Bianchi.”
He sags backward, his breathing evening out as he falls unconscious, leaving me standing there stunned with his words echoing in my head.
Franco Bianchi.
Those two words, that name, spoken aloud, is enough to make me freeze in place, the horrible memories rushing back in a tidal wave of remembered panic and pain that is nearly enough to knock me off of my feet. I can hear myself gasp, feel myself stumbling backward, but I feel like I’m somewhere else, like it’s all happening to someone else, like I’m out of my own body. I feel my toes curling against the carpet, sharp phantom pains shooting through my feet at the memory of what Franco did to me, hot tears dripping down my cheeks.
No, no, no, not again, please stop, make it stop, no, no, no, no—
I don’t realize I’m gasping it aloud until I feel Max’s hands on the back of my arms, steadying me. “Ana, it’s alright,” he says, his voice low and calming. “Franco isn’t here. He’s dead, Ana. He’s still dead. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
The room feels like it’s tilting. I look around for something, anything to ground me. I see Liam still standing at the foot of the bed, his face pale and stark against his reddish auburn hair and beard, looking as if he’s been stabbed in the heart.
