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What the fuck happened?
She was supposed to leave. So why was she lying bleeding inside the park I took her to earlier?
Did those two bastards who killed my parents find her? She has obviously been tortured. But why would they do that?
I force myself to relax my strangling grip on the steering wheel, and flex my fingers.
It doesn’t matter why they did it. All that matters is that they are going to die screaming.
The car screeches to a halt as I slam on the breaks outside our house. I have barely turned it off before I’m jumping out and yanking up the door to the backseat.
A short distance away, Jace throws open the front door to our house and hurries out.
“What happened?” he demands.
I gently lift Isabella out of the backseat and cradle her in my arms as I hurry towards him. “She’s hurt.”
“The doctors—”
“On their way.”
Jace scrambles backwards as I reach the door and stride into the hallway. “I’ll get the closest spare room ready.”
My first instinct is to tell him that I will be taking her to my room. But then I consider how Isabella will be feeling when she wakes up, and decide that Jace is right. One of the spare rooms is a much more neutral location.
I give Jace a nod, and he whirls around and sprints up the stairs. I follow at a slower pace so that I won’t jostle Isabella too much when I move.
When I reach the top of the stairs, Kaden appears from his room. He was obviously sleeping, since it’s the middle of the night, and is only wearing a pair of pants.
Either Jace has already filled him in, or he was able to piece it together on his own, because he immediately walks past me and towards the stairs while saying, “I’ll show the doctors to the right room.”
“Thank you,” I reply.
But he is already heading down the stairs and I’m halfway to the spare room closest to my bedroom. The door is open, and the sound of rustling fabric comes from inside. I walk across the threshold right as Jace straightens from where he was bent over the bed. There are now fresh sheets, pillows, and a duvet on it.
“Hold on,” he says before I can thank him for that.
Running back to the closet by the wall, he pulls out a set of spare towels and places them across the sheets. Good thinking. She’s covered in blood, and I don’t want her to sleep in a bloodstained bed once the doctors are finished.
Once the dark towels cover the bed, I carefully place Isabella on top of them.
Her brown hair partly covers her face. I draw soft fingers over her forehead, brushing aside the stray locks. My heart aches.
“They’re here,” Kaden says from the door.
A second later, three doctors hurry across the threshold.
“Out of the way, please,” the first one says, her voice full of command.
I quickly step aside to give them space.
They work quickly. I pace restlessly as they examine her, make a plan, set her up with what I assume is some kind of painkiller, and then start stitching up her wounds and tending to her other injuries.
She gasps and shoots up from the bed.
The doctors jerk back in surprise, and then immediately try to make her settle down again while mumbling about how the painkillers should have knocked her out.
I hurry over to her as she weakly tries to push them away.
