Page 190 of Carnal Wagers

“How…” I licked my lips. “How bad was it?”

“A minor bowel perforation, easily repaired with no complications.”

She side-eyed my wrapped, useless hand. The pressure of that look cut my guilt and failure deeper than the wound, and I rubbed at the bandage to focus on something other than this sudden sensation of being dragged down into a pit.

“Your wife was lucky. Any deeper, and it might have reached her kidneys.”

Those words weren’t the reassurance she thought they were. Had I not let my guard down, Alizé wouldn’t have needed surgery at all.

“She should be up in her room in the next couple of hours.”

I rallied effort to glare at the doctor.

“This is her room. With me.”

I’d have it no other way, even if I had to find her and roll her in here myself. It’d give me something to do and focus on.

“We’ll see what we can do.”

“No. You do whatever it takes, you understand? She comes into this room. No matter what.”

“As long as you sit your bum in that bed and don’t move. Don’t look at me like that, young man. I’ve lived through far worse than your intimidation tactics, but you won’t live another twenty-four hours if you don’t give your heart a rest and your system time to flush out the rest of the toxins.” She rolled the bedside computer flush against the wall. “In the meantime, one of my colleagues in orthopedics will be up to discuss options for your hand.”

My hand…I glared at the pattern in the ceiling tiles. What did I care about my hand if it saved her life? I’d do it again in a heartbeat, but I’d squeeze harder this time so the tip never pierced her skin.

After readjusting the lead wires and the heart monitor, the pack of nurses filed out. As the pounding in my ears calmed, my eyes trailed over the perpendicular metal grid lines of the ceiling and counted the number of removable tiles. Soon, I’d see her, hold her, and know for certain she was safe. The moment couldn’t come soon enough.

Liam nudged my leg. “You could have just told us you meant her, you big dope.”

I glared at my brother, my teeth grinding. “Who else could I have possibly meant?”

Brody shrugged as he pulled his laptop from a side table onto his lap and opened it. “We thought you’d be worried we hadn’t caught LK.”

“More than the woman I strangled my brother for?” He had the decency to show a little shame. “Did me not flying down to Colombia and dragging you two shite stains with me not clue you in?” I shoved a finger at each of them with my good hand. “Let me make this clear. No one matters more than her.”

“Not even us?” Liam teased, collapsing in his chosen armchair.

“No. One.”

“I’d argue you’ll change your tune once you two have a daughter.”

The beeping of the heart monitor pitched up in an accelerated tempo as the image came in a sudden flash. A chubby-cheeked child with Alizé’s face and light eyes, surrounded by a head of dark-ginger curls. Longing swelled up from my gut in a wave of warmth unlike anything I’d felt in a long time. I wanted that more than my next breath. A family. A future. There was no longer a need to hold back.

“Until that time and not a moment before, if I talk about a woman with the slightest concern, there’s only one person it can be.”

Liam raised his arms in surrender. “Aye, aye, captain. We’ve heard you loud and clear. Zero concern for us. Not a sliver for LK, who, in fact, by some fucked-up circumstance, happens to be our sister.”

“Half. Sister,” Brody corrected, barely looking up at us.

“Tomato, tomahto.”

I nodded, conflicted over the memory of that revelation. For over two decades, I imagined how it would feel to peel back LK’s skin, layer by layer, with my knife. I imagined watching her bleed out. Seeing the life vanish from her eyes. Taking in the first gulp of fresh air, knowing I’d dealt her the killing blow. Now that was tainted by the blood we shared and her connection to my wife. It shoved me harshly into a stalemate between revenge and clemency.

“All joking aside.” Liam cleared his throat. “We need to go over what happened.”

They recounted the details of the recording Brody made of Maeve’s attack. Some resonated. Distant memories came forward the more I tugged at them. Others were new, details as foreign as French.

“Big Charlie didn’t make it,” Liam added, “and Arthur’s on the mend, like you, but it was touch and go for a while. His sister says he’s finally pulling through.”