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“Try not to undo what we just did, Trouble,” he gives me a chaste kiss then releases me.
“I won’t,” I tell him as I take off after Dante.
Dante peeks his head inside the room and signals for them to join us. Zeke and Cain walk out into the hallway to give us an update.
I barely register their words over the ringing in my ears.
They say something about stitches, dehydration, and needing rest.
Dante squeezes my hand and leads me into the room. I take a deep breath and try to prepare myself for what I’m about to see.
Torture.
He was at King’s mercy.
My mind keeps playing this on repeat as we step inside.
The moment I see him, it takes everything in me not to break down. My hand shoots over my mouth to stifle the gasp that escapes me.
Gabe lies in the hospital bed, hooked up to machines with several bandages peeking out from his hospital gown.
Dante leans in, placing a kiss to the side of my head. “He’s a fighter, Heaven,” he says, squeezing and releasing my hand.
Gabriel’s eyes open lazily. Dante and I move to his side as he tries to stop the grin forming on his lips. “Look what the cat dragged in.” He goes into a coughing fit as soon as the words leave his lips.
Dante grabs the water beside the bed, bringing it to his mouth as I stand there in shock.
Gabriel.
Bigger than life.
The monster who’s haunted our nightmares.
The man who has more lives than a cat.
He looks like he’s one step from knocking on death’s door.
I shake my head, trying to get the toxic thoughts out.
Gabe takes one look at me and pushes Dante’s hand away. “Hey, I’m alive. What more could I ask for?”
“Uh, a lot. You look like hell,” I say, leaning forward to push his dark hair out of his face.
“Well, thanks for the compliment, Sweetheart. You don’t look so good yourself,” he replies, gripping my jaw, and tilting my head to get a better view of my bruises.
“Who the fuck touched her?” he asks Dante.
“The Reapers are looking into it, but they look like some hired goons.”
Gabe’s eyebrows shoot up as his eyes narrow on me. “Are they still breathing?”
“Nope,” I respond, popping the p for dramatics.
“Good girl.” He looks me over, examining the bruising and scratches on my body. “You do it yourself?”
“Two out of the three. Cassie got the other one before he took me out.”
He growls and turns his head to Dante. “Why was she left alone? She should have never been put in the position to defend herself from anyone.”
