War of Hearts

“Fuck off,” I seethed. I didn’t need any melodramatic bullshit right now. “You know we didn’t have a choice. She was in danger.”

“She wasn’t. But I took her anyway.”

I froze. “What the fuck are you talking about?” I couldn’t stop cussing. Spitting out the crass words helped channel my anger.

He blinked and stared at me again, but his eyes were hollow. “You were so unhappy without her. So, I gave her back to you.”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say, but you’d better start making sense. Snap the fuck out of it. You know our enemies were watching her. They were going to hurt her to get to me.”

“They weren’t,” he said on a strained whisper. “I didn’t know that for sure. I knew it was a possibility they’d been watching you in Cambridge, but there wasn’t a threat against her after you left. Not really.”

My mind churned, struggling to absorb what he was saying. Marco wouldn’t betray me like that. He wouldn’t pull Ashlyn into our world without a good reason. Not when he knew I’d left her behind to protect her.

“But Ricky threatened her at the restaurant when we took her off the estate. He said they had pictures of us together. They’d been watching the estate since we took her.”

“They might have known about your relationship in Cambridge, but they had no reason to think you still cared for her after you left her behind. She probably wasn’t on their radar until I brought her to you.”

“You can’t know that for sure,” I said, still unable to process the depth of his betrayal.

He surged to his feet, getting in my face. “This is my fault, Joseph. Why aren’t you listening to me? It’s my fucking fault. And now she might die. She—”

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off when my fist connected with his jaw. I didn’t hold back, and he reeled at the force of the blow. He took a few steps back and shook his head hard to clear it.

He didn’t tense with aggression. He didn’t take a defensive stance.

He simply stared at me, as though he wanted me to hit him again, to punish him for his unforgivable sin.

“Hey!” a security guard appeared in the waiting room. “Break it up. You’re both going to have to leave.”

Marco rubbed his jaw and turned away from me. “I’m going,” he told the man. “Joseph can stay.”

I watched as he stalked off down the long hallway. My stomach dropped, my chest hollowed out.

Marco had betrayed me. He’d put the woman I loved in danger, for his own selfish reasons.

No, he’d done it for me.

And that only made his choice that much more inexcusable. He’d made me complicit in this. It was equally my fault that Ashlyn was fighting for her life right now. Because I’d chosen to keep her with me instead of sending her to the police for protection. Marco’s reasoning that we were protecting her was just a flimsy excuse for me to keep her. I’d wanted her to be mine, so I’d taken her.

“Mr. Russo?” a nurse in green scrubs called my name.

She’s not dead, I told myself in the long second it took for the man to speak. She’s not dead.

“Miss Meyers is stable. She’s going to be okay. You can come see her, if you want.”

My knees almost went out from under me as relief slammed through my body. My legs shook as I followed the nurse to her hospital room, but somehow, I managed to walk without stumbling.

When I got to her room, I rushed to her side, taking her small hand in mine. It was warm, reassuring me that she was alive. But the pretty pink flush was absent from her cheeks, and her full lips were chapped and pale.

She stirred when I stroked my thumb over her palm.

“Joseph?” she mumbled. She didn’t open her eyes, and I wasn’t sure if she was fully awake. She certainly wasn’t completely aware of her surroundings. I’d always known she was fragile, but it pained me to see her so frail.

“I’m right here, angel,” I promised. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Where’s Marco?” she slurred.

Rage made my muscles ripple and flex, but I was careful not to squeeze her delicate hand.