Page 26 of A Forbidden Arrangement

The response buzzes in my hand almost before I lower the phone. Just numbers. Nothing else. No sarcasm. No jokes.

I push the hospital room door open, careful not to let it slam. The sight hits me anyway. She’s there, pale and streaked with blood, still in a way that twists something deep in my chest. For a second, I can’t breathe.

A nurse steps between me and the door, her solid stance blocking my way.

“Move.” It’s a low growl, and she flinches. I’m about to kill the next person who tries to keep me from her.

She swallows hard, crossing her arms, standing firm.

A doctor runs up, takes one look at me, and says, “Just stay out of the way.”

Finally, someone with sense.

I do as he says, keeping my back pressed against the wall under the nurse’s watchful eyes. She’s wasting her time worrying about me. The only thing I care about is Dahlia.

The doctor checks her over, assesses the back of her head, shining a light into her pupils, and I’m about to scream that they need to hurry the fuck up. That if they don’t save her, I’m taking everyone in this hospital down.

My thoughts are cut off when he steps back. “There’s bruising and a laceration to the back of her head from blunt impact, but other than a concussion, she’ll be fine.”

He directs the nurses around him. One supports her head while applying gauze to her wound, while the other cleans her, removing most of the blood.

Without it, Dahlia no longer has the stark look of someone close to death. There’s a slight color to her cheeks, and her breathing is visible.

“Now that you know she’s okay, please wait with the other visitors. We will call you back in as soon as she’s ready.”

“Immediately,” I command.

He nods, and I decide to trust him. If he’s lying, I could use him to burn off some of this feeling of ants crawling under my skin.

The waiting room clears out as I make a coffee, down it, and pour another. The caffeine does nothing to help my already racing pulse. I drink it anyway, needing something to help keep myself together.

The sharp turn from fear to relief has me reeling, my legs barely stable enough to support my weight.

My phone buzzes, and I pull it out of my pocket.

Damon:

Update?

I exhale long and slow before replying. There’s no doubt in my mind all three of my brothers have been going crazy since the second I left, only made worse by my last few requests.

Me:

Contusion to the back of her head, and concussion. She’ll be okay.

Bash:

Mother fucker.

Matthias:

Are they dead?

Me:

Yes. Died before I could kill him.

Bash: