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Twisting, I grabbed his arm before he could kill Aislynn’s attacker. “Help me.”
“I’ll be right back,” he growled. He tried to shake me off, and I had to plant my feet against the doorframe to keep him there. The fury on my jovial cousin’s face was so abnormal, it looked like a mask.
Speaking carefully, I tried to get through to him. “We need to get her out in case his car was rigged to blow. I can’t do it alone, and I don’t want to hurt her worse.”
I could see the war welling up in him, the need for retribution. Regardless of feelings they might or might not have—and I had a feeling they’d left plenty unsaid—Ash was his, and Cameron always protected what was his.
Then that feral energy banked, giving way to a slow, begrudging acceptance.
“Later.”
It wasn’t a question; it was a demand. He was going to get his blood debt whether I allowed it or not. Considering I’d do worse if my men were hurt, I accepted it.
Forced to focus on helping rather than hurting, Cameron called over a few of his most trusted men and laid out the plan. Between all of us, we painstakingly pulled Aislynn from the wreckage, trying to jostle her as little as possible. The private ambulance pulled up right after with EMTs ready to take her to the Marcosa ward at Seattle General.
Seeing her alone and fragile in the back, I wanted to go with her. I had the handhold gripped, about to leverage myself in, when Cameron threw himself in at her side and snapped at the driver to go. He hadn’t even seen me; he was just taking his place as her husband. It was how it should’ve been.
So why did it feel so shitty to step back?
“We’ll follow you.” My cousin barely acknowledged my words with a nod before the door slammed shut and the ambulance peeled off.
“You okay?” Dominic slid up beside me, hovering again.
The answer was no. No, I wasn’t okay.
I wanted to be there holding my best friend’s hand, but someone else had taken my place. Someone who deserved it more.
He was her husband, and I was just the woman who’d almost gotten her killed.
Chapter Fourteen
Mari
When Greyson told me he’d bought a wing at the hospital, I thought he was kidding. For years, we hadn’t gotten hurt enough to need more than an on-call doctor. It bothered me that we were giving the hospital enough activity to justify keeping it open.
“Oh great, my favorite patient,” Dr. Grant snarked at me as she steered her way into Aislynn’s room.
Dominic and I were crowded against the window, staying as far away from Ash and her gargoyle of a fiancé as we could. Cameron had taken one look at the nursing staff and lost his shit. Apparently, they were good enough to work on me, but they seemed incompetent when working on his future wife. It was almost laughable how quickly he had fallen into the protector role for Ash.
As expected, Dr. Grant refused to be steamrolled by my cousin’s mood and poked and prodded Ash without giving him a glance. “Outside of the cut on your face and maybe some bruising from the seat belt, you seem pretty good. Must not have been too bad of an accident.”
“It could have been much worse,” Aislynn said clearly, glaring between my cousin and me from her place on the bed. Apparently, she was sick of our hovering. “I’m assuming Cash saw me as an easy target or as a way to piss off my father enough to get him to defect. I’m not, and my father won’t. He’s nothing if not a decent businessman, and the second you signed the contract, he was your ally. I’m fine. End of story.”
Cameron scoffed. “Maybe you’re fine now, but you definitely won’t be after I’ve taken a piece out of you for your stunt today.”
“Oh, great. We’re back to threats.” Ash rolled her eyes and jabbed a finger at him. “Stop trying to control me, and I won’t have to pull anything.”
“I’m trying to keep you safe!”
“You’re suffocating me.”
“At least you’re alive!” Cameron’s breathing was heavy and the air thick with unspoken words and grief. I could practically taste it on my tongue, familiar and unwanted. Rey’s ghost haunted us in different ways. Ash softened and reached out, brushing her fingers down his arm until he gripped her fingers. It was the touch of someone who understood. Someone who cared.
Whatever he said was too low for me to hear, and I intended to keep it that way. Dominic, in obvious agreement with me, cleared his throat to softly call the doc over to us. “Is there anything we need to know while she heals?”
Dr. Grant frowned but seemed to realize she was going to tell us or no one. My cousin and Ash were busy. “Only what I’m sure you already do. Keep the bandage dry, watch for signs of a concussion or infection.”
Aislynn’s voice trickled between us. “Does that mean I can go? I want out of this awful gown.”
