Page 44 of A Smile Full of Lies (Secrets of Stonewood #1)

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

KNOX

The room was too quiet. Too clean. Too fucking still.

Machines beeped slow and steady beside the hospital bed, each sound a metronome of everything I’d nearly lost. Tubes snaked into her arm. An oxygen tube curled beneath her nose. The blankets were tucked too tight around her, like they were trying to hold her together.

But she was alive. Barely.

My fists flexed against my knees where I sat beside her, elbows braced, head low.

I’d been like that for over an hour — motionless except for the twitch in my jaw every time the heart monitor hiccupped.

My eyes stayed on her face, tracing the line of her jaw, the flutter of her lashes, the soft part of her lips as her chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths.

Her hair was matted at the temples. Her skin was pale, bloodless except for the bruises starting to form around the IV sites. I hated seeing her like this, hated the way the hospital had stripped away everything strong and radiant and mouthy about her and left behind something fragile.

She didn’t look like my Ros. But she was. And I wasn’t leaving this fucking chair until she woke up.

Every muscle in my body was coiled tight, vibrating with rage and relief and something darker I couldn’t name.

I hadn’t let myself cry. Couldn’t. There wasn’t space for it.

Not while she was still fighting to breathe.

Not while the last echoes of Alyssa’s announcement that my former best friend was the one who’d murdered my whole family were still stuck in my fucking ears.

My jaw locked. Ros had almost died. Trying to protect me. Trying to protect us . And the only reason she was still breathing was because Alyssa goddamn Allen had been two minutes faster than death.

Two fucking minutes.

I leaned closer and reached for Ros’s hand, careful not to jostle the IV.

“Come back to me, baby,” I whispered. “I’m not done with you yet. Not by a long shot.”

The machines beeped slow and steady. One long, high-pitched tone and I’d lose my fucking mind.

But they kept going. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Her chest rose beneath the thin hospital blanket. Shallow. Barely there.

I sat next to her in one of those uncomfortable vinyl chairs that creaked every time I leaned forward to touch her hand.

It was still cold. Still too pale. Her fingers looked too small in mine, and the bandages wrapped around her middle and taped to her chest — both soaked through once already — were a silent reminder of everything I couldn’t protect her from.

The chest wound was too fucking close to her heart, and the thought of that made mine feel like it was being carved out with a dull blade.

“I should be mad at you,” I said softly. “But I’m not.”

I let my thumb trace the back of her hand, slow and careful, like touching her too hard might undo the surgeon’s work. Like if I just held her tight enough, she’d wake up and this whole nightmare would be over.

“You put yourself in danger to protect me,” I whispered. “To keep me from doing something stupid. To keep me from crossing a line I couldn’t come back from.”

My jaw flexed.

“You knew exactly what I’d do if I found out Thayer was behind it. You knew I’d kill him.”

I looked at her — at the dark lashes fanned against her pale cheeks, the bruise blooming high on her ribcage.

“You didn’t even tell me. You trusted Alyssa, not me.”

That part? That fucking hurt.

But underneath the sting was something darker. Something raw.

“You were trying to save me,” I said. “And you almost died for it.”

I swallowed hard.

“Goddammit, Ros.”

She didn’t move. Not even a twitch.

I leaned forward and kissed her knuckles. Just once.

“I love you,” I said. “And I don’t know how to live in a world where you don’t wake up.”

I couldn’t stop seeing it over and over in my mind’s eye. Not because I was there. Not because I watched it happen.

Because I wasn’t. Because she felt like she had to walk into that fire alone.

My imagination filled in the blanks with too much clarity — Ros bleeding out on Thayer’s cold kitchen tile, gasping for air while that fucker loomed over her with a knife. Her eyes wide with fear. Her fingers clutching her side. Her voice breaking.

He was going in for a third strike when I put him down , Alyssa had said.

A third fucking strike.

I could’ve lost her.

She’d been bleeding from the left side. Near her floating ribs and her sternum. Close to her fucking heart. She nearly died protecting me.

And I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there to shield her. I wasn’t there to stop him. Because she knew what I’d do if I found out the truth too soon.

She knew I’d kill him.

She knew I’d throw away my life to avenge my family, and maybe it made me a selfish bastard, but I didn’t even give a shit about justice anymore. I just gave a shit about her .

And she still did it anyway. She walked into that nightmare to keep me from becoming a vigilante and a convicted murderer.

My jaw locked. I leaned forward and brushed the backs of my fingers over hers.

“You weren’t supposed to be the one bleeding for this,” I whispered. “You were supposed to write the book. Close the chapter. Survive it.”

Her fingers didn’t move, but the heart monitor kept beeping. And I held onto that like it meant something.

NOVEMBER 3RD 6:00 AM

It started with a sound. A sharp inhale. Ragged. Wet around the edges. Then a groan — low and pained, barely more than a whisper.

My spine snapped straight.

“Ros?”

Her head shifted on the pillow, just slightly. Her brow pinched, her lips parting on another broken breath.

My chest cracked wide open.

I was out of the chair and beside the bed in half a second. Careful not to touch anything. Careful not to bump the tubes or wires or IVs. Her breathing hitched again, like every inhale was a fight.

“Rosalind,” I said, quiet but steady.

Her lashes fluttered. Her lips moved, but no sound came out.

“Hey,” I whispered, stepping closer. “You’re safe. You’re in the hospital. Alyssa got you out. The surgeons—” My voice broke. “They did what they had to. You’re gonna be okay.”

Her eyes cracked open — glassy and dazed, but fucking alive — and locked on mine.

And fuck, I could’ve dropped to my knees right then and there.

“Knox,” she rasped, the syllable frayed and half-formed, but mine .

I nodded, throat too tight to speak.

Tears slipped down her temples.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t know how else?—”

“No,” I said, finally finding my voice. “No apologies. Not right now.”

Her lip trembled.

“You’re mad at me.”

“Fuck yes, I’m mad,” I said, stepping closer. “You almost died , Ros. You went behind my back. You took everything onto yourself.”

“I didn’t want you to go to prison,” she choked out. “If you knew it was him, I thought?—”

“You thought right, ” I growled. “I would’ve killed him. I wanted to kill him. I’m livid that Alyssa got the pleasure of avenging my family instead of me.”

She flinched.

“I’m sorry.”

I leaned in closer.

“But you’re the one who bled for it. You’re the one who risked everything, and I’m never letting you carry that weight alone again.”

Her lashes fluttered. Her lips parted. She looked down at her hands, wringing the edge of the blanket between them.

“I didn’t know how else to keep you safe and out of prison.” Her voice cracked. “Don’t leave me… please.”

My whole fucking world stopped spinning.

I took her hand — gently, so fucking gently, like she was made of fine spun glass — and brought it to my lips.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

Her eyes filled again, lashes sticking to the tears.

“But I lied to you.”

I shook my head, thumb brushing over the curve of her palm.

“You protected me.”

“I still should’ve told you.”

“Yeah,” I said, voice low. “You should’ve.”

She choked on a breath.

“I was so scared.”

I looked her dead in the eye.

“Of me?”

She didn’t answer fast enough — and that silence did something savage to my chest.

“Ros,” I said, the word rough and soft all at once.

Her fingers curled around mine. Weak, trembling.

“I was scared of what you’d do. Of what it would cost you, and worse, what it would cost me.”

I stared at her, throat closing.

“What it would cost you?”

“I couldn’t survive it if I handed you the truth and it turned you into a murderer,” she whispered. “You’d go to prison. Or get yourself killed. And I’d — I’d lose you.”

My breath caught.

“So I took the risk instead. I wore the wire. I said the right things. I played him. Because I knew if anyone could stop Thayer from hurting someone else, it had to be me.”

“Ros—”

She kept talking and her voice broke on a sob.

“But if I lost you because of it…” Her fingers tightened weakly. “Please don’t leave me.”

My voice barely held.

“You think I could ever walk away from you after what you did for me?”

She didn’t speak. Just stared up at me like I might disappear if she blinked.

I leaned in, pressing my forehead gently to hers.

“You love me,” I whispered.

She nodded.

“And you bled for it.”

I held her hand like it was a lifeline. Because it was. Because she was everything to me.

She’d said she loved me, and now everything inside me was just… noise . Static. Shattered glass and static. A whole lifetime of grief unraveling at the seams.

I couldn’t look at her without seeing blood.

Couldn’t hear her voice without remembering the silence between the nurses’ rounds. Without picturing her pale and still, lips blue, soaked in red. And fuck, I almost lost her.

“I don’t deserve you,” I said. My voice was so broken it was barely a voice anymore.

She blinked at me, dazed from pain meds but still sharp where it counted.

“Yes, you do.”

My jaw clenched so tight my teeth ached, and I shook my head.

“Knox,” she whispered.

I couldn’t stop it. It hit me like a fucking freight train.

My chest folded inward and I dropped my head to her stomach — carefully, so carefully, mindful of the bandages — and the first sob tore out of me before I could lock it down.

Fuck .