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DON'T COUNT YOUR CHICKENS BEFORE THEY'RE HATCHED!!
I whirled around, running my hand through my hair. "I have to go. I need to get to Vail to see what's going on. It's my property."
Chase grabbed my arm. "No way, man. We need to call the FBI and let them handle it. By the time you get there, she'll be rescued."
"It's not your fault. Don't go. It could be a trap!" Guy warned.
"No!"
* * *
With haste born of desperation, I bounded down the steps of my private jet and launched myself into the waiting sedan. My mind whirled with dread for Amy as I sped toward the hospital, the FBI's report of her location ringing hollow in my ears. Despite Chase and Guy's reassurances, guilt clawed at my heart, a merciless vise choking my conscience. I was responsible for her plight, and it gnawed at my soul.
My gut twisted as I envisioned her suffering, and a deluge of questions surged through my mind: Who was behind this? What drove them? Was it tied to the Rosedale case or some other sordid scheme? How could I safeguard her from this hell in the future? With steely resolve, I dashed through the sterile hospital corridors. My hand didn't falter as I wrenched open Amy's door, steeling myself for what lay within. I caught my breath at the sight of her bruised and battered form, her curvy silhouette a harsh juxtaposition with her wounds. Overcome with grief, I struggled for air as she lay there, asleep.
"Amy. It's me, Mitch." I murmured.
"Hey, Mitch," she whispered, her voice rough.
Tenderly, I grasped her hand, fearful of causing her more pain. "Hey, Amy," I murmured. "How are you feeling?"
She grimaced, shifting to find some semblance of comfort. "Sore," she managed, barely more than a whisper.
With a heavy heart, I nodded. "I'm so sorry, Amy. I wish I could have shielded you from this."
Her gaze locked onto mine, pain clouding her eyes. "It wasn't your fault, Mitch," she breathed. "I guess I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time...."
As much as I longed to accept her words, reason rebelled. I knew Amy planned to attend Chase and Meagan's housewarming gala. But how had she traveled from San Diego to Vail? Despite the maddening questions, I knew nothing could change the present — even if the entire situation eluded my grasp.
"Would you like something to drink," I queried, motioning to the cup on her tray. "Or would you prefer something from the vending machine down the hall?" I offered. It was the least I could provide.
Amy shook her head and took a tentative sip. "No, this is fine," she said, a feeble smile playing on her lips. She shifted in the bed, wincing in pain. "How was the party?"
A rueful smile crept onto my face as I fought to control my emotions. "It was nice," I began, my words laden with remorse, "but it paled compared to how much everyone missed you." I studied her, seeking a glimpse of her inner turmoil. I reached for her hand but recoiled, unwilling to inflict more pain.
"Can you tell me anything about the person who did this to you? Even the FBI is still piecing the puzzle together."
Amy's face darkened with terror, and she shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it, Mitch. He threatened me and said he'd come after me again if I breathed a word. And this time, it would be for good."
Rage simmered within me, knowing someone had hurt her so deeply. But I had to stay collected. Losing my cool wouldn't help anyone. "I understand, Amy," I said gently. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. But I want you to know I'm here for whatever you need."
Amy looked up at me with genuine gratitude. "I can't thank you enough, Mitch." Then someone entered the room, and her attention shifted. "Mum! Is that food for me?"
The woman turned to me with a beaming smile. "Are you my daughter's doctor?"
I stepped back from Amy's bedside, shaking my head politely. "No, ma'am."
"No, Mum, that's Mitch... my friend. He lives in San Diego." Amy gestured between us. "Mitch, this is Elana. I call her Mum."
"So, does that explain why there's a guard at your door, Amy?" She asked, raising an eyebrow and pointing toward the closed door.
Amy's eyes widened in surprise as she stammered hesitantly, "I... I don't know."
I cleared my throat, feeling both embarrassed and ashamed. "Actually, ma'am," I began, folding my hands in front of me nervously. "Rosedale Technology is providing 24-hour protection for Amy while she recovers, and it will continue when she returns to San Diego."
The woman frowned. "What makes you think she's going back there..."
"Mum... stop... please! I know you're worried about me, but I have to return to finish my classes..." Amy's voice trailed off.
