A Million Different Ways to Lose You (Horn Duet 2)

“Outside!” he half growled, half shouted at her while he shoved her into the corridor.

“Make sure he doesn’t kill her, for goodness sake!” I hissed at Bear, who was gone before I even finished my sentence.

The shouting commenced immediately.

“How dare you come here,” he said in a hair raising growl.

“Scout…baby––” Diana sobbed, interrupting what was sure to become a litany of swear words and accusations.

“Don’t you ever call me that again. If you were a man, I’d knock your fucking teeth out.”

The shot of adrenaline made me lightheaded, my heart thundering inside my chest. I had to put an end to this––for all our sakes. I didn’t exactly have sympathy for her, however, for better or worse, she was his mother; something I never had.

The one-two punch of weakness and fatigue clung to my limbs, acting like weights strapped to my ankles. Despite them, I still managed to crawl out of bed and shuffle to the doorway, clutching onto the wall for support.

“I just want to apologize to both of you,” Diana wailed in a juvenile voice.

“I didn’t think you could stoop any lower.”

“You don’t mean that,” she managed with a pronounced tremor.

“You’re the reason Vera lost the baby. My child is dead because of you! Do you understand that?! Do you understand what I’m fucking telling you?!!” he raged.

I implored my legs to move faster. It took all the strength I had just to make it to the doorway, my hospital gown soaked with sweat from the effort.

Orderlies and nurses ran by the open doorway, headed straight for the bloodbath. With the last drop of strength I possessed, I pushed through the crowd clustered around them and watched as Bear stepped in between Sebastian and Diana, his wooly mammoth sized body the only thing keeping it from turning it into a crime scene.

My knees turned soft and the little muscle I had left in my legs trembled.

“Sebastian,” I tried shouting; only a weak imitation of it came out.

“Crawl back into the hole you came out of and stay there––or I’ll make you wish you had.” Hurtful words were coming hard and fast now.

“Sebastian!” I shouted, louder this time.

“You are fucking dead to me. Do you hear me!” I was pretty certain they could hear him at the North Pole. “Dead!” he roared, his voice rising to a savage crescendo.

“Sebastian, please!”

My knees buckled. I was overcome by a sinking sensation, a fainting spell imminent. Sebastian’s head snapped in my direction. His gaze slammed into mine, and the color in his face drained.

“Jesus,” he mouthed, before he bolted for me, catching me just in time before I collapsed on the ground. Hooking his arm under my legs, he lifted me easily to his chest and held on tightly.

“I got you,” he murmured, and placed tender kisses on my forehead, my temple. “I got you.”

I could feel the violent beat of his heart as he pressed me closer. Reluctantly, he tore his eyes away from me, and directed a vicious glare at Diana. His anger now locked away behind a wall of ice, he said, “I won’t be responsible for what happens if I ever lay eyes on you again.”

Diana’s face had suddenly aged ten years. Her green eyes were two wide, vacant orbs underscored by tracks of melted mascara that ran down her cheeks. Before she could say another word he turned and carried me back into the room, the crowd behind us lingering in stunned disbelief.

I couldn’t help myself, and I couldn’t live with another moment of regret. As he gently tucked me back into bed, I cupped his face in my hands and forced him to meet my eyes. “Sebastian, she’s the only family you have left.”

His sharp gaze met mine, and I was immediately hit with the intensity of his thoughts, of his convictions. The slashes of his masculine eyebrows pinched together. “She’s not my family,” he stated unequivocally. “You’re my family.”

And with that decree, the topic was summarily closed for further discussion.

Chapter Three

As soon as the catheter and IV were removed, I was itching to be released from the hospital. Thankfully, I didn’t have long to wait. We never discussed what had happened with his mother and it bothered me. In a way I felt responsible for the rift between them, and something told me I was going to pay the price for it with interest at a later date.

“Why are we going out this way?” I asked over my shoulder while he pushed my wheelchair down a dark, deserted corridor.

“The cock sucking paparazzi are out front,” he grumbled. I let that one slide, suddenly too preoccupied to admonish him for the salty language.

Once we reached the underground garage of the hospital, I gazed in astonishment at the convoy of black SUVs idling. “What’s all this?”

“This––” he said, stabbing his index finger at the SUVs, “is the price we pay for your actions.”