Page 161 of Coveted

“And her medication? She winced—” I glance at my watch. “Twenty-two minutes ago.”

“A normal reflexive action,” says Dr. Cortez. “Sadie’s in no pain while she sleeps.”

With inhuman strength, I resist making her promise that’s true.

“Everything’s under control, Mr. Hale,” adds the doctor. “She will be just fine.”

Ah, fuck it.

“Do you promise?” I ask.

A smile flickers across Dr. Cortez’s face. “I promise. She’s a very lucky young woman.”

Lucky?

The word scrapes against my skull, because how can that be true?

Maybe the worst luck Sadie ever had was catching my attention.

“Okay.” I jerk my head in a tight nod. “Thank you.”

Dr. Cortez pauses. “If you don’t mind me saying, you could do with going home for a rest.”

“I’m staying here until she wakes up.”

The doctor nods as if she knew that’d be my answer, and leaves the room.

Resuming my place in the chair by Sadie’s bed, I’m alone with her and my punishing thoughts again.

The hospital bracelet on her wrist feels like a bad dream. Though I’m dying to hold her hand, I resist, because I’m not sure I have the right. Not when things were so unclear between us.

She mightn’t want me here at all, let alone clutching her in her sleep.

If she rejects me once she’s recovered, I’ll protect her from a respectful distance until she changes her mind.

And if she never changes her mind, I guess I’ll go the rest of my life loving and protecting her from afar, because forgetting her isn’t an option.

The power she has over me is unreal.

Yet I just want to give her more. That’s how powerful she is.

Detectives arrive to speak to me late in the day. I meet them out in the hall, watching her through the blinds while I answer their questions in a monotone.

Taking notes, they ask about what happened on the tower.

“We’re unclear on Worthington’s motive for the murders,” says a detective. “Any ideas?”

I shake my head. “Not one. He was questioned with the rest of the faculty back when Hannah was killed, but didn’t raise any red flags. He wasn’t on my radar.”

“Sadie might know his reasons,” he replies. “Since he was trying to end her life.”

Those last three words are like a sword through my stomach.

“She might,” I say. “But no one will be questioning her before she feels better.”

“Of course.”

Still, I want to be helpful, to close the case. For Sadie’s peace of mind, plus my uncle’s. He lost two children and deserves to know why.