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“Get the fuck out of my way.” I push them aside and run up the stairs, taking them two at a time, ignoring the shouts and arms grabbing for me as I do.
Panic fills me as I make it to her door and step inside. It is a crime scene. Blood, broken furniture, police tape, officers photographing evidence.
“Shit,” Tennyson says from right behind me. I hadn’t even registered that he followed me.
“Harry and Eddie are downstairs dealing with the police,” he says as we both take tentative steps inside.
“Where are they?” Tennyson asks as we both look around.
“Rosie?” I call out, my eyes searching. “Rosie!” I yell louder, my heart ready to fly out of my chest as I look over the place that was their home.
“Ben!” I hear her, and I run to her room where I see a few female officers with her.
“Sir.” One stands up and gets in my face.
“That is my daughter, so I suggest you get the fuck out of my way,” I grit out. My body feels feral, my anger is at an all-time high. I fucking hope Jeremy is dead, because if not, I am going to kill that motherfucker myself.
She nods and moves to the side, and I rush to sit next to Rosie on the edge of her bed.
“Rosie. I’m here, I am right here,” I say softly as I grab her and pull her close to me, her little arms wrapping around my body as she crawls onto my lap and starts to shake and weep.
“Ben, you came!” She cries louder, her wails piercing through my chest cavity and opening it up like never before.
“I came, Rosie. I told you I would. I told you to call me anytime. You are such a good, brave girl. You know that, right? You are so, so brave,” I whisper to her as I continue to hold her, rubbing her back to calm her breathing.
I look up and see the female officers talking to Tennyson, him giving them all our contact details as I hug Rosie tighter, ensuring she feels secure. My eyes trail outside of her room, where I see the dining table smashed onto the floor, dishes, and what looks like ramen coating the walls, along with more blood. Lots and lots of blood.
“Where’s Mommy? I want Mommy,” she says over and over, and I have never known heartbreak like this in my entire life.
“The ambulance took her. I want you to come with me, okay? We will go and see her,” I say to her, not wanting to tell her that Em will be alright, because I don’t fucking know if she will. I feel Rosie nod against my chest.
“Now I am going to stand, and I am going to keep you in my arms. We’re going to walk out of the apartment and downstairs to my car, okay? I want you to curl into me and cover your ears.” She has no sight, but her hearing is impeccable, so I don’t want her to overhear anything that could traumatize her more. Again, she nods against my now wet shirt, and I stand, carrying her out of the apartment as quickly as I entered.
Because now, I need to get to my fiancée.
* * *
I pace the hospital hallway, Rosie sitting close by with Beth, the two of them having a big conversation about the various books they both like, and I thank God for Beth at this moment.
I have already spoken with my brothers, and they support me in representing Emily in what will without a doubt be a hard legal battle to get Jeremy to stay away from her.
I currently have my team getting ready to talk with all of Emily’s friends and associates, reporting on the dates and times they have seen her with bruises and marks, including a few weeks ago when I saw her.
How could I have missed this? I feel guilty for being so focused on work and the Beasley deal that I didn’t put two and two together. I knew something wasn’t right, and Em all but confirmed my suspicions, but I had no idea it was this bad. I should have pushed her for more information on the weekend. I should have asked more questions. I should have had security on her from the moment I met her.
My stomach churns as I think about what I walked into earlier today. Jeremy was apparently taken away in handcuffs before we arrived, the police finding him in shock at the scene. But he was soon released once he had his legal team on the phone. George, on the other hand, was not so lucky, currently in surgery with a gunshot wound to his abdomen.
“How is she?” Harrison asks, passing me a coffee.
“She’s still out cold. Doctors say her body is exhausted and she underwent a lot of shock on top of her broken arm and bruises. But a few days in here, and then she can come home,” I murmur as I rub my eyes and take a sip of the steamy hot coffee, which tastes like mud on my tongue.
“George is still in surgery, but they are positive he will be okay. Apparently, they just need to remove the bullet, which was lodged between his liver and his spleen,” Eddie reports, he and Tennyson following up on George for me while I wait here for Em to wake up.
“You should go home and shower,” Tennyson tells me, but I shake my head.
“I am not leaving here until she wakes and sees me and Rosie. Then I will take Rosie home and try to get some sleep. But I don’t want Em to wake up and not see her,” I say, confident that Rosie will be the first person she will want to see, hoping that I will be the second.
“Boys, I came as soon as I could! What is the emergency?” My mother waltzes into the hospital waiting room like she is walking into an event. Her chiffon scarf draped over her shoulder flows behind her in a whirl of red, followed closely by Sasha.
