AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No,” I cried into the base of my hand so the word wouldn’t hit the air. “No. No. No!”
My tears were like burning lava as they rolled over my eyelids and down my cheeks.
Everything quivered—my lips, my chin.
My body.
There was a weakness moving through me, where everything felt so light and uncontrollable, that I didn’t know if I was sitting or standing or even breathing.
I just knew what I was seeing.
The truth that was lying in front of me, covered in blood, marred with cuts and bruises.
But how?
But why?
And how could this have happened again?
First Preston.
Now Diesel.
And as if his injuries weren’t the biggest knife to my soul, watching Brady from the doorway of the hospital room only slid the blade in even deeper. Because as Brady looked at his friend, holding his hand with such tenderness, careful not to bother Diesel’s IV, there was the sharpest ache in Brady’s eyes and guilt in his expression.
His injuries shouldn’t have occurred.
But Brady had assigned him to stand guard outside the door of our hotel room while we were at dinner. Since the Charleston incident, he didn’t trust that David wouldn’t try to break into our room.
This evening, David proved he didn’t need to go into the room to hurt us.
He had done his damage directly in the hallway outside our door.
Oh God.
If it wasn’t for me, Brady wouldn’t have had to hire Diesel. He wouldn’t have gotten that call while we were at the restaurant. We wouldn’t have had to rush to the hospital.
And Diesel wouldn’t be in that bed. His face … unrecognizable.
But that wasn’t it.
There were other spots on his body that David had attacked.
Before we’d come into his room, the nurse had told us they were still assessing all his wounds, waiting for test results, warning us that many more tests would have to be run.
This wasn’t even the beginning of a long recovery.
“Jesus, Diesel,” Brady exhaled, still clutching his friend’s hand. “What the fuck, my man? He did you wrong. So fucking wrong.” He was hovering over Diesel’s face, taking in his swollen eyes, the cut on his cheek that had been stitched shut, and what appeared to be a broken nose that caused deep purple marks across the bridge toward both sides of his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Not nearly as sorry as I was.
Brady had nothing to apologize for.
This was all my fault.
I held the doorway, squeezing it hard enough to keep me standing. Without it, I didn’t think I’d be on my feet.
My knees no longer wanted to hold me.
