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“Nadia, open the door!” Paul bellowed.
Paul’s here?My pulse jumped into my throat.
“Are you going to let him talk to me like that, officer?”
“Mr. Crane received a message from his girlfriend that she was in this location. There was also an incomplete 911 call from this area. We have a warrant to enter the premises.”
“A warrant already? How? Show it to me.”
“My superior officer already gave you a copy on the deck, Mr. Styles. Speak to him and stand back.”
The pain in my lower abdomen hurt, and I whimpered as I crawled over to unlock the door. It quickly swung open, and Paul rushed inside the room.
His eyes jumped as he scanned over me. I lowered my head, too ashamed to see more of his reaction. But he saw how I looked. I had dried vomit on my shirt and blood staining the front of my pants. I lowered my eyelids and moved a trembling hand to cover myself. “Paramedics. I need you in here,” he roared his demands with authoritative force.
Two paramedics came in, but Paul didn’t move out of their way.
Oh, Paul. I trembled when he knelt next to me. Goosebumps covered my skin when he clasped the side of my face and tilted it upward. Fresh tears streamed out of my sore eyes, and I whimpered. Paul cupped my face, swiped the tears away, and gently lifted my chin. His eyes were soft and shimmered. “Goddamn it, get Nadia to a hospital.”
The paramedics came forward and checked my eyes and heartbeat while Paul paced behind them. “You’ve lost your goddamn mind. Do you hear me, fucker? I will destroy you.”
“Can you move, Nadia?”
“It hurts,” I whimpered.
Paul punched the door with such force it creaked and splintered.
“Mr. Crane….” the officer said but didn’t stop him.
“Fever, dehydrated, loss of blood from —”
“That’s confidential,” Paul yelled interrupting and crossed over to the paramedic. “Do not say another word here,” he hissed.
My eyes darted between them.From what? No, it can’t be.
“Yes. Mr. Crane.” He turned off his radio and spoke to the other paramedic. “They’re on the way. Let’s get her out of here.”
They eased me onto a gurney. Although I was sweating, a blanket was wrapped around my body.
“We’ll give her a sedative,” one of the paramedics told Paul, and he nodded in agreement.
No, please don’t.
The paramedics placed an oxygen mask over my face, then carried me out of the bedroom.
Landon and two police officers talked in the hallway.
“Shit. I didn’t know Nadia was sick, but she was partying with the rest of us. We checked on her, Mr. Crane—”
“Do. Not. Speak.” Paul shouted over Landon.
“This is my yacht. I don’t take orders from you,” Landon bellowed in a snarky tone.
“It will be mine and everything you ever owned,” Paul shot back. “Your life is over. Mourn it.”
“You need to separate from Mr. Crane, or we will have to get involved.” The officer stepped close to Landon.
“But this ismyboat,” Landon squealed. “I have rights—”
