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He answers on the first ring. “If you're going to lecture me, save it,” Silas says.
“Meet me at St. Mary's hospital in fifteen minutes.” My words are clipped. I don't give a fuck about his squabble with Nova earlier.
“Who.” The word cracks through the line like thunder.
“Evangeline.”
He inhales sharply. “What happened?”
“I went to her house and caught someone robbing her. At gunpoint.”
“Motherfuckers,” he seethes.
I can feel his anger through the phone. It serves as kindling for my already explosive rage. I tamp it down. Again. And focus on her.
“I need cleanup.”
“Fuck. No answers then I take it?”
“Nah, didn't have a choice. You know I wouldn't have put him to ground if I didn't have to.” It wasn't like I was morally opposed to putting our enemies to ground. But we don't even know who this asshole is.
He could be some random guy for all we know.
Except nothing is ever random in Rosewood.
“I'll take care of it.” He clears his throat. “Is she hurt?”
“Aye, she's fucking hurt. Knocked her around, I think. I'm taking her to St. Mary's to get checked out.”
“I'll meet you there. Did you tell Nova?”
“You were my first call.”
“I'll call him. He'll likely be there soon,” he warns.
“Well, he'll have to turn his ass around then.” I end the call and tuck my phone back into my pocket.
I scan her face, noting blood coating one side of her face, along her hairline. I trail the tips of my fingers along her left eyebrow.
“Evangeline?” I murmur. Her eyelashes flutter at the sound of my voice. “C'mon, baby girl. Open those pretty eyes for me.”
She blinks several times before finally focusing on me. “Bane,” she breathes. “You're here.”
“Wouldn't be anywhere else.”
She smiles, it's thin and it doesn't light up her eyes, but I'll take it. She pushes to sit up, reaching out to grasp my bicep. I slide my arm underneath her back, hesitant to move her until I know what happened. But if she's able to move on her own, there must not be anything major broken. Not externally at least.
“You really are my knight in shining armor.” Her voice is soft with awe.
I let my gaze bounce around her face, memorizing every little detail. “Only for you, baby girl.”
Her breath hitches at the nickname like it always does. And then I do something I've been thinking about for eight long years.
I brush my lips across hers and whisper, “I've missed you, Evangeline. I've spent the last eight years dreaming of the way you taste.”
Her mouth parts and she exhales my name, like it's a prayer. “Lincoln.”
45
