Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart 3)

“You’re welcome. Someone will be in to take you down when they’re ready for you.”

The woman eyed me with outright speculation when she turned and swept passed. Got the feeling she was wondering if maybe she should call security.

Sensed a clear and imminent threat.

She wouldn’t be wrong.

The second the curtain fell behind her, I flew over to Izzy where she sat up on the edge of the bed, and I knelt down in front of her.

She wore one of those ridiculous hospital gowns that this girl still managed to make look good. Long locks of blonde and brown twisted up in a haphazard tie on the top of her head, pieces sticking out everywhere.

But it was the cut above her eye that was close to being in the same place as the one I’d sustained that gutted me.

That and the way terror swam in the depths of her hazel eyes. The way it was muted with her love. This girl too good. Too right.

I pressed my face into her lap. “Izzy Baby, I’m so fucking sorry,” I muttered through the riot of torment laying seize to my insides.

Fire and fury.

“I tried to stop it. I did.”

She threaded her fingers through my hair. Leave it to Izzy to be the one to comfort me. “You were in the same position, Maxon. The very same thing happened to you. Us. And we’re both fine. That’s what I’m grateful for.”

I looked up at her, and my lips pursed into a grim line. “You could have been killed.”

She touched my face. “But I wasn’t.”

I grabbed the hand she had on my cheek, pressed her palm to my mouth, and breathed the beauty of her in. Tried to use the connection to her to calm myself.

I only shook with another rush of rage.

“I won’t stop until I hunt down whoever is doing this and put an end to them. Until they are no longer a threat to you or the boys.”

“I trust you.”

Anguish seethed in my spirit, and I jolted when the curtain moved. I was riding a razor-sharp edge, teetering between the clear-cut instinct to protect her and completely coming unhinged.

My shoulders sagged when I realized it was a male orderly coming in with a wheelchair. “Your chariot, madam.”

He was all easy grins as he kicked it into a wheelie.

Izzy released a soft giggle. Only she could find any sort of serenity in the middle of this disaster. “Why, thank you.”

He helped to get her adjusted, and I pushed to standing, itching, urges slamming me to fly out of there and do something.

End this.

Only problem was I didn’t know what direction to go.

He started to wheel her out, and I followed close behind. Our footsteps echoed as we moved down the narrow, hollow hall, questions spinning in the distance that separated us.

Nausea swirled when I sensed that distance becoming greater. A crack riding up the middle.

Not sure how I would repair this.

Fuck.

I had to stop this. I’d promised I would never let anything happen to her. Another lie that I’d meant well by. Again, one I couldn’t control.

The orderly swiveled around just as they were approaching the double doors that read Radiology. “You’ll have to wait here.”

Hesitation had my muscles twitching, hating the idea of being separated from her for a second, but I finally conceded, realizing it was an argument I wasn’t going to win. I moved around to the front of the wheelchair and dipped down to place a soft kiss to Izzy’s lips, lingering as I whispered, “I love you. So much.”

“Always,” she murmured back.

Straightening, I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “I’ll be right here waiting.”

“I know.”

He pushed a button on the wall. The doors swung open, and he wheeled her in.

My heart panged with the separation. Anxiety firing, shooting bullets of aggression screaming through my veins.

Blowing out a heavy sigh, I leaned on the wall, rocked my head back and stared at the design pitted in the ceiling. Time slipped by in a blur as I tried to make sense of all this bullshit. Puzzle the pieces together.

I was a detective.

This was my job.

I nearly crawled out of my skin when I sensed the disorder at the head of the hall, and I jerked my attention that way to the sickening sight of Clarissa coming toward me. Black hair tossed over one shoulder, skin-tight white jeans, five-inch heels that she wore like a weapon.

And I knew exactly what this was. A battle. Another clash in this unending war. One I was going to end.

She had the fucking nerve to smile at me when she met my eye.

“Oh my God, I heard what happened to you. Tell me you are okay. I was so worried about you.” I didn’t know if it was faked concern or if she was completely delusional.