Three Little Mistakes (Blindfold Club 3)

“Open the fucking door, now.”

My blood pressure roared in my ears, right along with the sirens telling me to get inside the bathroom by any means necessary. Something was very wrong, and I didn’t have time to figure out where the key was. I lifted my foot and kicked just to the side of the doorknob, putting everything I had into it.

The doorjamb splintered and broke from the wall as it gave way and the door swung open. I hurled myself into the bathroom across the tile, straight to the fogged glass door, and yanked it open.

She was sitting naked on the floor of the shower with her back against the wall and her knees pulled to her chest, the water cascading down her head and drenching her. When I opened the door, her head tipped back and she glared up at me with fire I’d never seen from her. But that wasn’t what sent my heart to my feet.

Her left eye wasn’t the hazel color I loved—it was enormously black, her pupil blown to hell.

chapter

TWENTY-NINE

My knees splashed to the tile and water soaked into my pants as I knelt beside her. “Shit, Noemi!” I tugged her into my arms, but she fought me.

“Leave me alone!” Her hand lashed out, and the sting against my cheek was shocking.

“Oh, fuck, baby girl,” I wrapped my hands around her wrists, urging her to stop. “Jesus, please.” She struggled against me as I dragged her from the shower. Noemi was gone. This was some wild, vicious creature.

Adrenaline made my hand shake as I dialed 911 and spat out my address, explaining what had happened. I was sick to my stomach, yelling at them to send someone immediately. I was sure I used profanity in spades, but I was out of my mind with fear, and everything was moving too fast.

“Please, Noemi,” I begged, trying to get a shirt or pants on her.

“Stay the fuck away from me!”

I had a black robe on a hook and yanked it down, and she left me no choice. I twisted her arm behind her back and forced her into it. Her cry of pain was a knife in my chest. The robe was too big, but at least she wasn’t naked or wet anymore. I locked her in my arms as she bucked against my hold, and I whispered to her. I begged her to calm down, told her she was going to be all right, and that she was safe with me.

“I love you,” I said, feeling broken.

She didn’t acknowledge it. Karma was a cruel bitch.

It was a blur after that. At some point I’d moved her to the living room and propped the front door open, and paramedics arrived. I stood to the side as she was strapped struggling to a stretcher, and followed alongside her, all the way down into the ambulance, past the people gawking on the sidewalk.

I sat on the bench by her head and put my hand on her shoulder, trying to stay out of the medics’ way, but desperate to do something besides answer the medics’ questions about her head injury, which I hadn’t witnessed. I should have fucking made her go to the emergency room. My job was to keep her safe and I’d failed her spectacularly.

“Fuck you,” she spat out, but whether it was to me or the paramedic placing an IV in her arm, was unclear.

“Which hospital are we going to? Cook County?” I asked the guy who didn’t look much older than she did, but he was far more calm and in control than me. He slid the needle into her vein easily, while the ambulance took a corner hard. I had to brace a hand on the side to stay steady.

It felt like a lifetime before we reached the emergency room bay, and I was escorted to the waiting room. I fucking hated hospitals. The smell of disinfectant, the noises, and the chill that hung in the air. I shivered, still damp from pulling Noemi from the shower, and I never grabbed a coat. I stared at the phone in my hand, too confused to remember what I was supposed to do. Shit. I scrolled through the contacts and hit send.

“Rosso Media Group, this is Kristen.”

“I need to speak with Mr. Rosso, and it’s urgent.”

“Who’s calling, please?”

“Tell him his daughter is in the hospital. Cook County’s ER.”

My finger tapped “END CALL.” Who knew what was going to come out of my mouth if I stayed on the line? I folded myself into one of the nearby chairs and pulled up my Internet browser. Jesus, let her be all right. I wouldn’t get immediate answers from the hospital staff, so I began to research what was most likely happening to her.

It was two hours, the longest of my life, and I shot to my feet when the desk called for the people waiting for Noemi Rosso. The nurse guided me through the corridors of triage rooms, until knocking on one and pushing it open.

Noemi rested in the angled bed, wires and tubes snaking out to her monitoring equipment. The sight was a punch to the gut and I willed myself not to double over. And then, relief swelled and burst inside me when her eyes blinked at me with recognition.

“Joseph,” her voice was concerned, “what the hell happened?”

I hurried to her bedside as the nurse lingered at the doorway. “The doctor will be with you shortly.” The door thudded shut as she left.