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And I’d put a tracker on her.

I’d doubted her.

And now I was never going to be able to tell her sorry.

Ever.

I clawed at Junior’s shirt only to realize that I was trying to get skin, to touch his skin because if he was warm, breathing, I knew he was still there.

I knew we were still holding each other.

Because had Claire not gotten in that car, it could have been any one of us, it could have been Junior in that hospital bed.

It could have been me.

Pain, like I’d never known, slammed into me as I realized I would do anything, anything on this earth to keep Junior safe even if it meant keeping him safe from my love.

Because he was it for me.

I loved him so hard that it turned into hate so lethal I was sick with it. Because if I couldn’t have his love, I wanted something equally as strong. His hate would be all I had.

But for the first time since our fight over a year ago.

I wanted to risk everything for more.

He held me tight against his chest.

I opened my eyes and stopped breathing when my dad eyed Junior and then me with curiosity—at least that’s what I thought it was until I saw his clenched fists.

Why did he hate him so much when he trusted Phoenix with his life?

It made no sense.

For now, I ignored the questions and held Junior close; I breathed in his cologne, and I pressed my face against his chest and told me myself that I was already close enough to his body when my heart screamed more.

Time went by.

I wasn’t sure how much. What I did know was that I felt like I was outside my body when a hush fell over the room, and Nikolai Blazik, made man, one of the most famous doctors in the world, entered the ER with tears in his eyes and walked toward us.

The crowded room shifted.

Every single suited-up man bowed his head while the bosses parted, giving him the respect he deserved, each making the sign of a cross over their chests.

Nikolai didn’t stop until he was in front of a stoic Ash.

He went to his knees and grabbed Ash by the hands, then kissed each one and whispered, “Her blood is not on these hands.”

Ash shook his head. “I should have been there.”

“Had you been there, you’d be dead,” Nikolai said in a harsh voice. “And the Abandonatos need more than one heir.” He sighed. “Her parents just landed at the airport. They’ll want to see her, but to make things easier on them, I came first.”

Ash’s eyes snapped to his. “What do you mean?”

Nikolai stood and then very strategically pulled a needle from the inside of his jacket and whispered. “A gift for her final moments. Follow me.”

They went into the private room.

The door clicked silently behind them.

And we waited.

Ten minutes later, the door opened. And I saw Ash age in front of my eyes. No longer was he the carefree college student who had an easy joke or an eye roll when things got too serious.

He was changed.

Altered in a way that I couldn’t explain.

And then I heard Uncle Chase say something that nearly stopped my heart. “His heart may not survive this.”

My dad nodded and said, “Are you saying that because yours never did?”

Chase squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head. “He’s more Luc than he is me, and now her death, it will bring out all the bad parts I tried so hard to hide from him. My son… will become the monster.”

“Annie,” Tank whispered her name, gaining everyone’s attention. Her face was bandaged, and she was holding her right arm in a sling. Bruises marred her cheeks as her eyes fell to the busy ER. “I’m so sorry.” Tank pulled her into his arms, but she shook her head and moved away from him, her eyes landing on Ash.

Ash clenched his jaw as she approached, tears streaming down her face. “She said…” Her words were muffled by her own sobs. “She said ‘tell him I loved him.’”

Tears streamed down my cheeks as Ash closed his eyes like he couldn’t bear to look at her, and then they jerked open as he lifted his head and glared, fists clenched at his sides. He walked right up to his dad, grabbed the gun from his hand, and walked out of the ER.

“Where’s he going?” I whispered.

Junior sighed and slowly pried me away from his body and sighed. “To kill them all.”

“What do we do?” My chest ached as Junior straightened and pulled the gun from his pants, and turned off the safety.

“We do what we were born to do,” he said with a hard edge to his voice. “We back him up.”

“Okay.” I nodded and shot a look to Breaker, who was already joining us, and side by side, we walked by the bosses, our eyes locked straight ahead.


Tags: Rachel Van Dyken Mafia Royals Crime