Page 36 of With this Ring (Mastered #7)

“Yes.”

Heart racing, Sasha threw back the blanket.

Nothing and no one could keep her away.

Her mother stood, and Sasha pushed herself off the bed, only to have her knees wobble and the world tilt beneath her once more.

She hated being so weak, especially now that she knew Gregorio was conscious.

Before she collapsed entirely, her mother helped her back onto the edge of the mattress.

Frantically, Rosa looked to the nurse.

“I’ll get you a wheelchair.”

“I can walk—”

“If you want to see Mr. Conti, that’s not going to be an option, Ms. DiLuce.”

“But—”

“Honey, if you hurt yourself even more, you’ll be no good to anyone,” her mother said.

In frustration, she raked her hair back. She wanted, needed, to get to Gregorio’s side—where she belonged—as soon as possible.

“Can you at least help me into some real clothes?” she asked her mom. She’d feel better if she wasn’t in a hospital gown.

“Will the staff be okay with that?”

She shrugged. Did it really matter? “I’ll be checking myself out of here really soon.”

Rosa pursed her lips. “Not if you can’t stand up.”

Forcing back a sigh, she nodded.

After squeezing her hand, Rosa crossed the room to pick up the bag she’d brought along.

Her mother turned her back while Sasha struggled into her underwear and bra, then she helped her with the cozy fleece sweatshirt.

Getting the sweatpants over her bandaged ankle was a challenge, making her glad she hadn’t asked for a pair of jeans. No way would she have been able to get into those.

“I don’t suppose you have a brush with you?” Sasha asked. Her mother carried a purse the size of a small piece of luggage. Whatever anyone needed, she always seemed to have.

Rosa smiled. “I promise you, he’s not going to care what you look like.”

“But I do.”

“Of course you do.” Without another word, Rosa pulled out a brush.

On the first pull through her hair, the bristles caught on a tangle. Sasha grimaced. Every damn part of her hurt, and the pain seemed to be getting worse instead of better.

Rationally, she knew it was because she’d had an adrenaline dump, but that didn’t help her frustration.

“Let me help you, honey.” Her mother’s warm hand curled around her shoulder.

She didn’t remember her mother brushing her hair since the night of the robbery. Until now, she hadn’t realized what a dividing line that was. Between being a kid and becoming a grownup.

Since she couldn’t go anywhere until the nurse returned, she nodded. “Thank you.”

A few minutes later, she was settled in the wheelchair, an IV pole attached to the side. The nurse draped a blanket over her legs, and her mother stroked her hair one last time.

“I’ll be here when you get back.”

“Thank you.” She looked at her mother’s pale, drawn features. This had really taken an unfair toll on her. “I’m sorry.” She extended her hand. “I mean it. For everything.” Getting hurt, the Gregorio situation, hurting her sister.

Her mother offered a small smile. “As long as you’re okay, everything else will be fine.”

Will it?

Sasha sighed. The last time she’d been in a hospital had been the night of the robbery. Back then, she’d been too young, too scared to do anything but watch as others took control. But now…

In the hallway, there was no sign of her dad or sister.

God, if she could change things…

The journey to the ICU was endless. The elevator swooshing to a stop shot pain into her ribs, and every turn made her grimace.

As they approached the unit, the antiseptic smell grew stronger, more clinical. More frightening.

In the waiting area, Hawkeye stood near Damien and a woman she didn’t recognize.

Damien swept his gaze over her, his expression unreadable. “Looks like the two of you had a hell of a weekend.”

“Unfortunately.” Then, summoning courage, she met his gaze. “I’m sorry I dragged your friend into this.”

At that he lifted a shoulder. “I’m not sure there was anything you could have done to keep him away.”

At his understanding words, she summoned a half-smile. “Thank you.” She’d feel guilty about this for the rest of her life.

“I’m Catrina,” the woman standing next to him said.

“My apologies.” Damien’s gaze took in both of them. “Sasha, this is my fiancée.”

She had long, black hair, past her waist. Like it had been that night at the Den, Damien’s hair was fastened back with a strip of leather. Together, the pair were striking.

Where Damien had been empathetic, Catrina was somewhat standoffish. “Gregorio is one of my closest friends.”

Was there a note of warning in her voice?

If so, she didn’t blame the woman.

“He can never resist a damsel in distress.”

Her first guess had been right. Catrina cared for Gregorio and didn’t want to see him hurt.

She was thankfully saved from replying by the nurse saying, “Are you ready?”

“We won’t keep you,” Damien said.

“He’s been through a lot, and he’s still groggy,” the nurse warned as they approached his room. “Try not to excite him.”

The ICU room was stark, sterile, dominated by beeping machines and hanging IV bags.

Despite the warning and her bracing herself, nothing could have prepared her for being wheeled into the room.

The fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across Gregorio’s face, making him look ghostly pale against the white sheets. Bandages covered his torso, stark and clinical. Tubes and wires snaked from his arms, monitoring every breath, every heartbeat.

This couldn’t be Gregorio—her protector, her warrior, her hero—the man who had always seemed larger than life.

Now he looked almost fragile, and she choked back a sob.

The nurse wheeled her closer.

His earring was missing. The small detail scared her as much as the machines and bandages.

As if it had been yesterday, she remembered the first time she’d seen the earring catch the light, how it had made him seem dangerous and thrilling to her much-younger self.

Now its absence felt like a reminder of how close she’d come to losing him forever.

For a moment, fighting for control over her runaway emotions, she squeezed her eyes shut.

Even though they’d entered almost silently, his eyes fluttered open, dark and intense despite the medication. His gaze found her immediately, as if drawn by an invisible thread. “Petal?”

Relief flooded her, leaving her weak. “I’m here.”

“I need you next to me.”

The nurse maneuvered the chair so it was as close to the bed as possible. “Five minutes,” she warned.

Grateful for every second, Sasha nodded.

“Get over here, Petal.” His voice was rough, but the command in it was unmistakable—so Gregorio that joy lodged in her throat, making her shake.

Somehow, she managed to come a couple of inches closer to his bedside.

He reached out to cup her face, and she leaned into his touch, savoring the sensations.

For hours, she’d been so scared that they’d never again share anything like this.

“You look like hell,” he murmured.

A watery laugh escaped her. “Told you it had been an awful long time since I’d scaled walls. Even longer since I’ve been shot at.”

The same probably wasn’t true for him.

“Sasha—”

After locking the wheelchair for stability, she forced herself upright, and she held onto the bedrails for support.

His expression pained, stark, he threaded a hand into her hair, and he pulled her down to him.

“Gregorio! You can’t!”

“Quiet, Petal. We don’t need an audience.”

His kiss was desperate, claiming, his mouth hot and demanding against hers. She melted into him, careful of his injuries but unable to resist the magnetic pull between them.

His touch was achingly familiar—the same calloused fingers that had wiped away her tears years ago, that had pushed her to safety mere hours before.

Beneath her palm, his heart thudded, strong and steady. Alive . The reality of almost losing him crashed over her again, leaving her weak.

“You shouldn’t have taken that bullet.” She’d never forgive herself.

“Don’t you understand? I’d die for you, Sasha.”

Tears burned her eyes. “Gregorio—”

Cutting her off, he pulled her against him again. “I’d do it all over again.” Hand cupped against her neck, he claimed her mouth with searing passion, and the monitors shrieked in protest as his heart rate spiked.

“Mr. Conti!” The nurse’s voice was sharp with disapproval as she rushed into the room.

But his arms stayed locked around Sasha, holding her close despite the pain it must have caused him. Even now, he was trying to protect her, shelter her.

“You scared the hell out of me,” she whispered.

“Likewise.” His thumb brushed away a tear she hadn’t realized had fallen.

“No more playing hero without me.”

“That goes both ways.”

He gave a half-smile that simultaneously reassured her but reminded her how long of a path was ahead of them. “We’ll negotiate the terms later.”

The monitors continued their angry protest, and the nurse warned her that she needed to leave.

But in that moment, wrapped in Gregorio’s arms with his heart beating strong and steady beneath her palm, nothing else mattered.

He smoothed back hair from her forehead.

“Oh, Petal. What the hell am I going to do with you?”

The words echoed their first night together, but now they carried the weight of everything they’d been through—the near miss, every moment of protection, every toe-curling touch and command, every time she’d tried to deny what was between them.

“I don’t know, Gregorio.” Her love overwhelmed her, making her voice crack. “What are you going to do with me?”

“I fucking wish I could keep you forever.”

She blinked. “What?”

Of the millions of things she’d thought he might say, that was not on the list.

“I wish I could be the kind of man who deserved you.”

The monitors screeched.

“Are you…?” Her heart shattering, she pushed herself away.

What was he saying?

“Time’s up.” The nurse interrupted them.

“Gregorio.” Frantically, she shook her head. “No. Please. No…”