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Recognition sets over her now worried stare. I turn to look for an empty bed. I’ll fucking clear one myself, if I have to.

“Get me a fucking bed!”

“I’m going to get in trouble for this…” she murmurs at the same time as she grabs my arm and takes me down a busy hallway, shouting out orders. There’s not a single pause as she takes me into one of the private rooms rather than a curtained-off cubicle.

A low groan gurgles from Fleur as I lay her down. Her size and stature have never been so blatant than they are right now. She’s lost in that bed.

“The doctor is on his way. I need you to give me a quick debrief on what’s happened, injuries you’re aware of.”

Fuck, I draw a blank for a short tick because I have no idea what’s happened.

“She was attacked,” Arabella jumps in. “She hit her head a few times. Hard. Really hard.”

“Okay.” The nurse takes in the bulletproof vest she’s wearing. “I’m going to need her details so I can get her on the system.”

I do as she’s asked even though protocol goes against it. Fleur is the only thing that matters right now. Everything else can get fucked.

“We’re going to look after her,” she tells me. Now that I can focus somewhat, I can see her kind face. She’s not young. Her looks are deceiving. “I’m going to need you to stand out there while we care for your wife.”

“No. I’m not leaving her side.” I’m not the idiot that’s going to get in their way, but I’m not leaving the room. Tucking myself into an empty corner, I keep my eyes on Fleur.

How could I let this happen?

Why didn’t I protect her better?

What was I thinking leaving her in the care of another man?

Arabella comes close, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “She has to be okay, Casper. She did this for me and…she has to be okay.”

I have no idea what she means. My thoughts are only on Fleur.

“I’ll just be out there if you need anything.”

The nurse escorts her out of the room as she assures me, “We’re going to do everything for her.”

No sooner has she said the words than a doctor walks into the room.

He starts barking orders at her, things that I don’t have time to set in my head so I understand. I’m in a fucking parallel universe right now.

This is penance for all the blood on my hands.

All the men I lead into hell. Cameron. My blood. My flesh. That little girl that never had a chance.

I want to scream at all the voices going around my head. Leering. Accusing.

“What’s your name?” I ask the nurse while she cuts Fleur’s clothes off.

“I’m Sister Bishop.” She smiles warmly.

“Your name, not title and surname.”

Without stopping what she’s doing—at this point she has my wife in her underwear, and I’m physically feeling sick at the sight of her body mottled with bruises—she looks up at me, warm blue eyes narrowing on mine.

“Elizabeth. But everyone calls me Lizzie.”

“Lizzie,” I echo, the cracks in my armour all too noticeable in my voice. “That’s my wife. She’s everything.”

A quiet sigh escapes her mouth while she continues taking Fleur’s stats.

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