Page 44 of Hunt You Down

I tried not to laugh too hard—that hurt too. “Go stretch your legs,” I told him, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’ll be okay.”

“Are you sure? I can wait until Dylan gets back.”

“It’s fine, I promise. I wouldn’t mind a few minutes alone.”

André gave in, kissed me on the cheek, and left the room. As he did, I noticed someone in a disheveled looking suit standing at the nurse’s station. Rubbing the back of his neck, he spun and I locked onto dark eyes: Mitchell. He took the two steps to my doorway and rested against the frame. “Can I come in?”

I sat the oxygen mask down next to me. I knew what to read on the machines by now—my numbers were fine.

“How’s Amanda?” I asked, staving off the inevitable interrogation.

“Resting. She got pretty sick, and then the c-section. She’s tired, understandably.” Mitchell hovered awkwardly at the edge of my bed with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“And the baby?”

He smiled. That baby was the one little light in all of this darkness. “She’s perfect.”

The tone shifted then. Neither of us wanted to address the elephant in the room, but we knew our time to do so was dwindling away. Coffee runs and pee breaks can only take so long.

“You didn’t tell anyone there was someone in the bathroom with me,” I finally said.

Mitchell regarded me for a long moment before he spoke. “I got the sense that you didn’t want me to. Did you know him?”

I shook my head, but Mitchell was no fool. He knew I was lying, but he didn’t call me out on it. Instead, he pulled a small card from his pocket.

“I don’t know you well enough to pry. But one thing I do know is that André loves hard, and it can be a bit much if you’re not used to it. If you ever need anything that stays off the books, this has my personal number on it.”

I took the card from him, tucking it under my leg. The spot where Regan had pressed the blade into me was throbbing, likely bruised. My eyes burned, but I banished the feeling.

“Thank you,” I muttered. “Give the baby a kiss for me.”

Mitchell nodded, skirting around Dylan as he left. My brother rubbernecked to watch the man walk out, then sat a drink next to André’s seat. “Who was that?”

“One of André’s business partners; just wanted to check on me.”

Dylan sobered. “Since we have a minute alone, I have to ask⁠—”

“No,” I snapped, knowing exactly where that sentence was going. I knew if I told Dylan, everything would unravel—including the new life I’d been building. “It wasn’t Regan. I don’t think I’d be sitting up talking to you if it was.”

Nothing good would ever come to me admitting it. Dylan was too protective, and Regan too good.

Dylan would offer to move, which would mean quitting his job and leaving his life behind—again. Besides, Regan was too good. If he got to me through André, there was no telling what lengths he would go to. Even if it meant risking my own life, I had to keep my family safe.

“Fair enough.” Dylan brought his cup to his lips and took a sip of his coffee. “You look good—you’ve put on some weight. I can’t see your cheekbones anymore.”

“With the way André feeds me, I won’t see anything with the word ‘bone’ in it for a long time.”

André returned then with the doctor trailing behind him. “Great news,” she said. “You don’t have any bleeding or swelling, so we don’t see any reason you can’t recover from home.”

My brother and my boyfriend shared a look, and I knew that fierce look of determination in Dylan’s eyes. “I’m staying here,” I declared before either of them could start arguing. “Dylan, I know that you just want to protect me, but I promise you that I’m safe here.”

I wasn’t sure whether I was trying to convince them or myself, but I did know that I didn’t want to go back to Georgia—back to all of those memories. Besides, Dylan was only twenty-one. He had his own life to build; one that didn’t revolve around taking care of his big brother.

“I’d go to the ends of the earth to protect your brother, Dylan,” André added from his seat.

Dylan looked between us both. I held my breath, certain that he was about to argue, but he must have seen something in André's eyes—or mine. “Are you sure?” he asked, looking directly at me.

I nodded, lacing my fingers through André’s. “I need to stay here, Dylan. I’m happy here.”