I didn’t have it in me to argue. All I could do was lie bleeding on the floor, staring at his face under heavy eyes. Dirt and soot smeared his cheeks and forehead in gloomy streaks. His shirt was torn, and he had blood on him, but it was hard to say if it was his, mine, or possibly even Sterling’s.
I had so many things I wanted to say, the top being how much I loved him. And that I didn’t regret a single moment in our crazy up-and-down relationship. He had been worth it. Every tear. Every heartache. Every lonely night. I only wish I’d had the chance to tell him.
He slid his arms underneath me, tears glistening in his bright eyes. The flames curled and licked along the floor, seconds away from swallowing the legs of the chair.
“I got you, Mads,” he murmured, scooping me up in his arms, and it no longer mattered if I lived or died. I wasn’t alone.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
MADS
The incessant beeping of a machine woke me. Before I opened my eyes, the sterile scent of a hospital filled my nostrils, and I wanted to go right back into that bliss of oblivion.
Reality meant I had to deal with what happened.
And I wanted it all to be a dream.
Sterling.
The warehouse.
The fire.
I could hear screams. Mine. Kenna’s. Micah roaring my name.
Were they alive? Had they all gotten out?
Hysteria seized my chest as each memory flooded into my mind. The explosion still rang in my ears, my hearing muffled from the blast. So much fucking smoke. Swallowing only confirmed that my lungs were raw and scratchy from the amount I’d inhaled. Pressure ached on my side where I’d been stabbed.
Holy shit. I was stabbed.
I forced my eyes open, needing to know how this night ended. No matter how terrible the news might be, I had to find out if my friends were alive. Micah had carried me out of the building, but after that… nothing. My memory hit a brick wall. I had no idea what happened to Kenna, Micah, or the Elite.
Or Sterling, for that matter, but right now, I didn’t give a shit about him. The bastard had nearly killed me.
A low groan pulled from my lips as I tried to move, shifting my head a bit higher on the pillow, but that was a bad idea. Instant pain flared at my wound. Taking a breath, I waited for the throbbing to subside and looked around the room, seeing a figure slumped over in a chair. Their elbows were braced on their knees, head hung down.
Seeing him, a rush of overwhelming emotion pricked at my eyes. I blinked to clear the haze of sleep, the medication coursing through my body, and the moisture gathering at the corners. Just like the memories that I wanted to be a dream, I was afraid this moment was also a figment of my imagination. I longed for him to be alive, to be unhurt and in front of me. If any moment of the last few hours was going to be real, let it be this. The universe couldn’t be so cruel as to make me see him and it not be real.
“Micah,” I whispered. It was all I could manage, and even then, my throat protested.
His head snapped up, eyes devouring my face. I could see how pale his skin was, how tired his eyes were.
“You’re awake,” he said, scrubbing a hand down his mouth and chin as he exhaled. “Christ, Mads. Don’t ever scare me like that again. I—” His voice broke off, he, too, struggling to speak.
I reached out to him, needing to feel that he was flesh and warmth. All the fighting and anger from the last week didn’t matter. “I’m okay,” I assured him.
Moving off the chair, he laced his fingers with mine and gently sat on the edge of my hospital bed. It wasn’t close enough for me, but I understood his carefulness. I must have looked a fucking mess. There was a reason they didn’t have mirrors in hospital rooms, and thank God. If I saw my reflection right now, I’d probably scare myself.
Despite having cleaned his face, his clothes had seen better days, and he smelled like a bonfire. Remorse twisted at his mouth. “I can’t decide if I want to scold you or beg for your forgiveness.”
I squeezed his hand, repressing the urge to pull him onto the bed. “Is everyone okay? Did they all get out?”
He nodded. “Just a few scratches and smoke inhalation. They’re all fine. You don’t need to worry.”
My whole body sank deeper into the thin mattress, relief releasing the tension. “And Sterling?”
A long pause swelled between us before he replied, “He didn’t make it out.” Not an ounce of contrition. “Kenna called 911 as Fynn pulled her out of the warehouse. By the time the firemen arrived, the entire building was engulfed, and they couldn’t get inside. I imagine once they extinguish the flames, the cops will comb through the debris, and with any luck, they’ll find his remains.”