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“You. Bed. Painting. Carpet. Walls.”

“Good girl. Four things you can hear.”

“You. Um . . . the wind outside. Someone walking around upstairs. I don’t . . . don’t know.”

“It’s all right. Just listen to me. Take a breath and hold it. One two. Now out. One, two. You’re fine. You’re all right. No one is going to hurt you.”

“I’m not worried about me!” she cried. How could he even think that? It was everyone else she was worried about.

Nighthawk, who wasn’t talking to anyone.

Her mother, who’d been suffering with that awful man all these years.

Bernie, who might have lost his lady friend.

Her new brother, who might also be a new enemy.

And Alejandro, who had been shot because of her. Because of her father. And now, he might be in more danger.

“What if my brother comes after us? You were shot! I can’t . . . I can’t . . .”

“Hey, you are not responsible for what happened to me. I want you to listen to me. This isn’t your fault. It’s Emiliano’s. And mine, for not protecting you better.”

“No, Alejandro. No! If I can’t blame myself, then you can’t either.”

“Deal.”

He said it so quickly that she had the idea she might have been manipulated.

“I want you to let all these thoughts go. You are not to blame for any of this. Let Papi take over for you. I’ll take care of everything.”

“That . . . I can’t do that.” As tempting as it was.

“I think that’s the only way you’re going to get some rest. And you desperately need it. Either you let Papi take over or I’m going to have Aaron sedate you.”

“No, Papi. I . . . it’s not fair to you. You’re injured.”

“You’ve been taking care of me these last few days. I’m feeling much better now and it’s time for me to take care of you.”

She let out a small sob. Why couldn’t she stop crying? “Don’t ever leave me.”

“I won’t. I’m still here. Say it with me.”

“You’re still here.”

“I love you,” he said.

“You love me.”

“Forever.” He stared down at her.

“Forever.”

37

“I still think we should come to you,” Sampson said stubbornly. “You need us.”

Cat smiled at her friends through the screen. She felt absolutely shattered. She’d napped for a while that morning and thankfully the nightmares had stayed away. But she’d woken up feeling grouchy and out of sorts.

As though her skin was too tight and itchy. Plus, her head was thumping.

“I always want to see you guys, but for now, it’s safer for you to stay away from me.”

“Screw what’s safer!” Immy cried, her face lined with worry. “I want to make sure you’re all right.”

The others all added their agreement.

“Cat is right,” Alejandro interjected, and she turned the screen on her phone so that he could see them all. “It’s safer for you all to stay away. Things could become . . . problematic. Right now, everyone is waiting to see what shots are fired.”

She flinched at the word shot.

Alejandro placed his good hand on her thigh, squeezing it gently.

“But shouldn’t we be there?” Abe asked. “We could help if Emiliano’s son decides to retaliate.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Alejandro said. “But I won’t be risking any of you.”

The guys all scowled.

“I could send men,” Gray said. He and Maeve were visiting the others in Nashville at the moment.

“Thanks, but we’ll wait to hear from Pablo.”

“I hope he’s nice and not a meanie,” Immy said.

Alejandro smiled gently at her. “So do I.”

After saying goodbye and promising to contact them again soon, Cat ended the call. She ran her hand over her face.

“Headache?” Alejandro asked.

“It’s not too bad, Papi.” She was just done in.

“I’m going to get Bernard to run you a bath. I want you to go and relax with some bubbles. And then you can have a nap with me.”

“I don’t need a nap. I had one this morning.”

“And you’re going to have another one this afternoon,” he said firmly.

“I don’ts want a bath either.”

“Mi Pequeña, you need a bath.”

She gasped, horrified as she sat up to look back at him. “Are you saying I stink, Papi?”

She did not! How rude. Although . . . when was the last time she’d showered? She sniffed herself. “I needs a bath!”

“See? Papi is always right.”

Cat stared down at the tray of food. She felt so sleepy after her bath. And clean. She hadn’t realized how grubby she’d felt before.

But she still couldn’t eat. Her stomach was tied up in knots.

“Preciosa? Are you all right?” Alejandro asked from his bed.

“I can’t eat,” she whispered. “My stomach feels icky.”

“All right. We had a plan B.” He rang the bell three times. “Come here to me. It’s time for a nap.”

“I don’t want another nap.” The nightmares might come back.

“I’m not arguing with you. Come get into bed.”

She stood and stomped her foot. “No!”

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