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“Soon, butterfly. You need to get your strength back.”
She smiled a small, sad smile. “I’m sorry I scared you. I—”
I shut her up with a kiss that spiked her heart rate and made her tremble under me.
When I pulled away, she pouted. “Don’t stop.”
I chuckled, jerking my head in the direction of the monitors. “And risk your heart going crazy?” I scoffed. “Not gonna happen.”
She giggled. “My heart’s fine.”
“It better be.” I sat back in the chair, squeezing her hand, and looked away. No need to let her know how she affected me. One kiss. One touch. I wanted more. But I’d wait. I’d wait forever for her if that was what it took.
I looked back, letting myself get lost in her ocean-blue eyes, and knew—
She didn’t just scare me—she fucking broke me. But she did so much more. She loved me. And that was more than I ever dared to ask for. And for me to love her back. I never thought I would. That I evencould. But there was life left inside me, and she found it and fed it. Lured it out until there was no way back.
A twisted smile curved my lips. Kaylie Remington, the entitled little princess who I first hated, was now my whole world. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for her. I’d kill for her. Hell, I already did. I’d fucking die for her because losingherwas not an option. She was everything.
My everything.
Looking into Marc’s steel-gray eyes enveloped me in security that made me sink deeper into the hospital bed. As long as he was with me, nothing else mattered. My father’s betrayal. The lies. Almost dying. All of it felt like some hazy dream I couldn’t grasp or make sense of. That was probably a side-effect of the medicine that slowly dripped into me. But I didn’t mind. The outside world could wait. I’d deal with it when I had the energy. When my heart healed enough to take a few more bruises. Right now, all I could focus on was this perfect man clutching my hand and dedicating his heart to me. I just hoped I wouldn’t break it. That I was enough for him and that somehow, we could heal together and get over all the bad and ugly.
To say we were both damaged, physically and emotionally, was no understatement, but I had hope, and that was stronger than anything.
A soft knock on the door dragged my eyes from Marc and widened in surprise.
Izzy and Dom stood at the door. She, holding a crazy number of pink roses, and he, a bottle of bourbon.
“Oh my God,” I breathed. “What are—” I cut myself off as she darted across the floor and leaned in to carefully hug me without jamming the flowers into my face.
“Don’t you dare die on me, little sis,” she murmured into my neck. Then she straightened, smiling down at me with worry shining in her big dark eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.” My voice was suddenly thick, and tears burned behind my eyes. I thought her words about family were nothing but empty talk. But she was here… My eyes traveled to Dom, who gave me a wink and a grin. They both were.
“Business trip?” Marc asked, not bothering to hide the suspicion, and I cringed inwardly.
Dom chuckled. “We heard what happened,” he said as an answer, and confusion skittered across my mind. How could—
I let it go, not sharp enough to figure it out. It didn’t matter. And I was pretty sure they knew everything.
Marc’s scoff made me look at him. He, too, was undoubtedly wondering the same thing.
“Youheard?” he asked.
Dom shrugged. “I have my sources.”
“What he’s saying,” Izzy added, “is that we’re looking out for you.”
I gaped at her. During the two months since we left, I didn’t hear a word. And as much as it saddened me, I was ready to let them go. This changed it all.
“Kaylie.” She sighed, letting her eyes take me in and I cringed under her sympathetic gaze. “If I knew…”
“You couldn’t have,” I rushed to say. “It’s okay. It’s over.”
Dom took Marc away, letting Izzy sit in the chair he just occupied, and she glanced over at the guys. “How’s he holding up?” she asked. Then she grimaced, and an apologetic look came over her face. “Dom told me everything. About Julie. I had no idea…” She cast one more look Marc’s way. “Almost losing you too—”
A lone tear slid down my cheek. Hazy memories of Marc’s pleading with me not to leave him. His broken voice. His pain.
