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Numb, I let him guide us down a hall that feels like its never-ending—much like this nightmare. Even at the height of the emotions I’d felt at the age of eighteen, knowing over a hundred people were murdered on a luxury passenger cruise ship, I’d felt heartbreak and anger. But until this moment, until one of ours has been attacked, I never realized that agony and despair were woven into the core of those emotions. That wave after wave of emotion intent on destruction began with a single phone call.
It halted footsteps.
It eliminated oxygen.
It stopped my heart.
Not to mention, during the two-and-a-half hours it took for our chartered flight to make it from Austin to Asheville, I was riddled with shame. When I answered Fallon’s hysterical call earlier, I was chastising myself over and over. My gut churned at how far I sank at even considering picking up a woman at the local dive bar with the intent of forgetting Fallon due to her friend-zone messages earlier in the night. My heart froze inside my chest even as the woman’s insipid hand rested on my shoulder. Whose fault is it I felt like that?
Mine. I ended up standing, stepping away from the lady in question after mumbling some kind of excuse, dropping cash on the table for her drink, and bolting before I did something I knew I’d regret. As I stalked off, I was already making plans to see Fallon so we could work things out between us.
Unfortunately, Fate stepped in to assist in the worst way possible.
Anguish layered over fear threatens to paralyze me as Jesse and I storm into the family room in the hospital. The second I see the crown of her blond hair, the wave crashes and I’m almost brought to my knees. I mouth her name, though no sound comes out.
Jesse scans the room looking for our sister and Austyn’s father. He barks at Fallon, “Where did they go?”
Wearily, Fallon lifts her head. The second her eyes meet mine, they flare before blanking when they focus on my brother. “The doctor just came in. They took Austyn’s parents to discuss…the recent changes.”
I’m about to ask what changed when I notice how Jesse’s color pales. “What direction did they go in?”
“They asked me to tell you there would be a message at the nurses station.”
“Right,” he mutters before stepping outside the room, closing the door behind him. Closing us in.
Together.
Alone.
We are no more than a room apart, but there’s a distance between us that never existed before I went on my assignment to Silverthorn. I open my mouth to break the ice, but Fallon beats me to it. “There’s coffee down the hall.”
I move a step toward her. “Any good?”
She shrugs. “It’s hot and caffeinated.”
“Right.” I open my mouth to demand answers to a million questions when Fallon draws up her knees and lowers her head to them. A harsh sob is ripped from her chest. Her hands fly to her knees, pulling them up to her face to muffle the sound.
I want to go to her, to comfort her, but with the stilted way she’s been communicating with me as of late, I’m uncertain if she’d welcome me with open arms. That is until I notice there’s blood beneath her fingernails.
My niece’s blood.
I’m across the room in seconds, pulling her to her feet and into my arms. I croon, “Shh. Let it out.”
Fallon’s body sags into mine as if she’s unable to hold up the weight of the burden any longer. The door opens behind us and Jesse pokes his head in. His stern countenance softens when he spies Fallon in my arms. He mouths the word, “Surgery,” to me before disappearing down the hall.
Fuck.
After their show tonight at the bar Fallon’s apparently been working at—Christ, how much of her life have I missed?—some crazy ass drunk came barreling down Columbia Street and hit Austyn head-on as she was working the crowd before she was set to leave with her security detail. Fallon, not more than fifteen feet away, was the first to get to her. Fallon stripped out of her own top—uncaring she was naked except for a strapless bra—to use the clothes to apply pressure on the wounds my niece sustained.
While the idea of drunk idiots getting a look at Fallon’s luscious body sets my teeth grinding, the idea of this woman doing any and everything she could to save Austyn until the EMTs could get there to transport her to the hospital causes me to shudder.
Fallon burrows deeper against me—seeking out my warmth.
I rub my hand up and down her back, now covered in hospital scrubs. “Hey, witch. She’ll be okay.”
Fallon lifts her face up and the utter devastation on it sends a shaft of fear through me. I grasp her chin. “What? What don’t I know, Fallon?”
She stubbornly refuses to speak.