Page 147 of Brutal Heir

“Get him out of here!” a doctor shouts.

I’m escorted out of the room, my legs on autopilot. I sink into a seat in the waiting room and Isabella sits beside me, wordless, her hand sliding into mine.

No one says anything. Because they all know it, too. This isn’t over. But for the first time since I saw her crumple to the ground, I let myself breathe. Because she’s still fighting.

And I’ll be right here, waiting when she wakes up.

I make a silent vow to her on the spot. No one will ever touch her again. Not while I’m breathing.

CHAPTER 56

A MIRACLE

Alessandro

My lids are heavy,the weight of the world pressing them closed, dragging me down into the dark where pain and memory blur into nothing. Grisly images of the last time I was in a hospital room threaten to surface, smoke and flames loom at the corners of my vision, but I shove them back. This isn’t about me. This is about Rory.

Forcing my weary eyes to remain open, I lean over the bed and hold her hand. I scan her motionless form, a fist squeezing my heart. I hate seeing her so still. It’s so unlike the bubbly, spirited woman I fell in love with.

Please wake up, Red.

At some point in the middle of the night, Rory was moved to a room in the ICU. I trailed after her in a fog, sinking into the seat beside her bed where I remained all night.

The monitors blink steadily in the dim glow of the overhead lights. She’s alive. And for now, it’s enough.

A soft knock on the door swings my head over my shoulder. “Come in,” I murmur, my voice hoarse and jagged, like I’ve been gargling glass.

Serena and Isabella walk in, holding Styrofoam cups in their hands and the unmistakable scent of coffee fills the small room.

“We figured you could use this.” Serena holds out a cup.

My stomach revolts at the idea. I slowly shake my head.

“Water?” Isabella asks. “You have to have something…”

“We can stay with her if you need a break,” Serena offers. “Get a breath of fresh air or something.”

I hate the idea of leaving her side for even a second. Though the hospital has been quiet, and there’s been no sign of the Quinlans or anyone else, I’m terrified to move.

I shift in my seat, and my bladder makes the decision for me. “Okay,” I mumble. “Just a quick bathroom break.”

“Take your time.” Bella squeezes my shoulders. “We’ll be right here.”

“Thanks.” Standing, every muscle squeals in protest. Damn, when was the last time I’d changed my bandages? Rory would be so disappointed in me. “Be right back,” I call out over my shoulder as I force my feet out the door.

After a quick trip to the urinal, I stare at myself in the mirror, arms crossed, blood still stiff on my shirt. Her blood. I haven’t changed. I can’t. Not until I know she’s truly out of danger.

Heaving out a breath, I splash some water on my face, hoping it’ll wake me up then march out into the hallway.

The elevator dings as I pass. I don’t look up at first.

“Hey, cuz, they’re here.” Matteo’s voice has my pulse skyrocketing.

I whirl at him, hand already on the gun at my hip. “Who?”

“The O’Sheas…”

Fury courses through my veins, polluting my insides. “That son of a bitch,” I growl.