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Not now, I mouthed.

I placed my cigarette between my lips and took the coffee from Axel that he was holding out to me. It was well past midnight. Ally was asleep in a room on the third floor. She was suffering from a severe concussion, so she was under observation for the next couple of nights.

Detectives had come in to try to talk to her, but she was unresponsive. And I wouldn’t force her to talk—not right now. She was shutting down, but anytime one of the detectives tried to ask her anything, fear—so much fucking fear—was in her eyes, draining the blood from her face.

It made me murderous.

So, as of right now, all the detectives could do was just wait for the lab results to come back to see if there was anything left in her or on her that they could use. They took samples from under her fingernails and from between her legs. Christian had given them permission to turn our home into a crime scene to figure out who the fuck did this until she was able to cooperate.

“I was hoping nothing like this would ever happen to her,” Axel said quietly as I stomped out my now-smoked cigarette.

“I’m frankly not in the mood to talk about it,” I told him bluntly. “Christian is your best bet for that conversation. Right now, I just want to find this son of a bitch and fucking beat him to death.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Julian is coming home,” he finally spoke up. I grunted. “I called him—told him what happened. He’s on a fucking murder spree. Their season was ending soon anyway, so his coach is letting him come home early—shockingly.”

I just stayed quiet. I wasn’t in the mood for conversation. My phone vibrated in my back pocket, and I pulled it out, looking at Christian’s text.

Christian

She’s asking for you.

With a sigh, I spun on my heel and quickly moved into the hospital, heading straight for the elevator. When I got to her room, she was awake, staring at nothing in particular until I stepped into the room.

“Hey, baby girl,” I said quietly as I moved towards her.

Her bottom lip trembled. Christian brushed his lips to her temple, pain flashing through his eyes for a moment before he smothered it. “I want a shower,” she croaked. “I feel dirty.” The nurses had given her a sponge bath once the detectives had taken whatever pictures they needed, but I understood what she meant.

She could feel his touch on her.

Christian sat up, ready to go help her shower, but she panicked, shaking her head. “No,” she choked out, breaking my fucking heart. Fucking sad as fuck day when she wouldn’t allow my brother to help her. “I can’t—you can’t—”

He swallowed thickly. She didn’t want him to see what had happened to her. She didn’t want to be ruined in his eyes.

“Let me work with her,” I told him quietly.

He gently held Ally’s face in his hands, brushing his lips so tenderly with hers that she sobbed, her hands circling his wrists. “I will never, ever look at you as anything other than my perfect moon,” he told her quietly. “Breathe for me, beautiful. Just breathe for me,” he begged her. Fuck, that was all either of us could ask from her. Because right now, asking her to live might be too much to ask of her.

She closed her eyes, her beautiful face scrunching with pain as she sobbed. He stood up. “I’m going to get some coffee,” he told me quietly. I knew it was killing him to leave her like this, but we had to do what was best for her. “Please take care of her.”

“Always, bro,” I assured him.

“I’m sorry,” she blubbered as soon as he walked out of the room, the door shutting behind him. “He—he—”

“I know, baby,” I soothed, gently running my hand over her matted hair. I gently uncovered her, looking at the bruises and scratches covering her legs. I sat beside her on the bed, facing her, and I reached forward to slowly unbutton the shirt that she was wearing. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, baby girl. I’m here. I’m going to take care of you.” I brushed my fingers over her cheek. Even so broken, so sad and scared, she made crying look so fucking pretty. “Just know that Christian will never look at you differently, darlin’. He loves you. My brother loves you so fucking much.”

She nodded, though she kept crying. I finished undressing her. Rage—white, hot rage—pulsed through my veins. She had bite marks all over her skin, black and purple bruises, and scratches. She cried harder, her body shaking. I pulled her into my arms, holding her tight to me. “Don’t cry, baby,” I crooned. “You’re still so fucking beautiful,” I promised.

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