SIN
I’M PACING THE living room when I hear the bedroom door open and close shut. Next, I see Chance coming down the hallway that leads to the master suite.
“Move up the wedding,” I demand, walking toward him.
He drops his head, running his hand though his hair and looking conflicted “I don’t know—”
“Move up the fucking wedding,” I bark.
“Sin, man.” He raises his eyes to meet mine. “She’s in bad shape. Tried to commit suicide.”
I shake my head. “No, she didn’t.”
“She needs to be admitted.” He ignores me. “For observation. A seventy-two-hour hold—”
I land a fist to the middle of his nose, knocking him to his knees on the floor.
“Goddammit,” comes his muffled growl. “I think you broke my nose this time.” He looks up at me, blood dripping down his face onto the carpet.
“Say that again, and it’ll be your jaw,” I warn.
He gets to his feet, and I take a step back so I don’t snap his fucking neck. I need him right now. Just a little longer.
“Listen.” He raises his hands, watery eyes softening. “She’s not well.”
“She’s fine.”
He shakes his head. “Jesus, Sin, listen to yourself. She’s in the bedroom, puking her guts up because she went out to a party and took drugs. She can barely stay conscious. Whatever you said or did was too much for her.”
He’s right. I did this to her. I’ve pushed her too far. But I can fix it. “She didn’t do this.” She may have went there planning on doing something, but Holland saw an opportunity and took advantage of her. He wanted to hurt her, to hurt me. She was his revenge for Marcus. My little demon wouldn’t do this to herself. She’s stronger than that.
“Maybe you should give up.” He sighs. “Everyone has a breaking point. Her father got the job done, one day she will too.”
I step into him, my chest hitting his so hard it pushes him a step back. “Are you going back on our deal?” I’m tired of listening to what he thinks I should do. Or who he thinks she is. He has no idea.
He looks away from me, and after a long second, he shakes his head. “I’ll make the call. Make sure she shows up and that she’s sober.” With that, he turns and walks out of the front doors, slamming them both shut.
A soft sob hits my ears and I ignore Sarah. She sits with Gunner over on the couch. They haven’t left. Sarah wanted to wait and see how Elli is doing and Gunner didn’t argue with her. Plus, he had a text about fifteen minutes ago that Prickett is on his way here.
Tyson and Gavin enter the living room. “How is she?” I demand.
“The Narcan worked.”
“But she’ll be okay?” I urge.
“Yes. I’ve given her something to make her comfortable.” He looks around the room. “Where is her husband…?’
“I’m her husband,” I snap, interrupting him.
He looks at Tyson, who nods, and then looks back at me. “She needs to rest, but she’ll be okay. You can call me if you have any questions or concerns.”
I walk into the kitchen and grab a bottle of water, needing to try and calm my nerves. Tyson follows me. I fall down into one of the barstools at the island and run a hand down my face. “How bad was it?” I ask through the knot in my throat. I have cameras in the bedroom but couldn’t bring myself to watch them. Afraid it’d have me barging in there to protect her. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t intervene. It would have made it worse for her.
Tyson shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “She passed, if that’s what you’re asking. Congratulations. She’s all yours.”
Dropping my head, I interlock my fingers behind my neck, letting out a long breath. “Yeah, but at what cost?” Will she forgive me? No. Do I care? Also no. She’s mine now. No one can ever take her from me. I’ll spend the rest of my life—no matter how short that will be—fighting to protect her.
Dropping my hands onto the island, I look up at him.