Page 90 of Cyber Revenge

Nothing. He’s nothing.

And Lydia is mine.

Forever.

THIRTY-FOUR

LYDIA

The steady beep of the heart monitor is the first thing I hear. Slow. Steady. A quiet rhythm that echoes in the sterile stillness of the hospital room. My body is heavy, every muscle aching with a dull throb that pulses in time with the pain blooming beneath my ribs.

I blink, my eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering in from the blinds. The faint scent of antiseptic fills my nose, mixing with something darker, something familiar.

Leather. Smoke.

Him.

My heart squeezes, and I turn my head slowly, my body protesting the movement.

And there he is.

Trip.

Asleep beside me.

He’s crammed into the tiny hospital bed, his body pressed close to mine, his arm draped protectively over my waist like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go. Even in sleep, his jaw is clenched, his brows furrowed like he’s still fighting.

Dark circles shadow his eyes, his skin paler than I’ve ever seen it. His lips are parted slightly, and his breaths are deep and even, but there’s tension in every muscle. Even asleep, he’s on guard.

Protecting me.

My chest tightens, a soft ache blooming that has nothing to do with the wound beneath my ribs.

He hasn’t left me.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

The voice startles me, making me flinch as I turn toward the sound.

A nurse stands by the doorway, a kind smile tugging at her lips as she steps inside. Her eyes flick to Trip, her expression softening as she takes in the sight of him curled up next to me.

“He wouldn’t leave,” she murmurs, her voice quiet as she approaches. “Not even when security tried to make him. Gave them a hell of a time, too. I think one of them might have cried.”

My lips twitch despite the dull throb of pain in my chest.

“But then he called someone. Don’t know who it was, but our boss got a call not five minutes later, telling us to let him stay.”

I blink, my heart pounding a little harder.

“Your man must know people in high places,” she adds with a knowing smile. Trip barely stirs, but his grip on me tightens even in sleep.

“He really loves you,” the nurse whispers, her gaze flicking back to me. “He hasn’t left your side. Not once. He’s been eating that nasty hospital food for four days now. Refuses to leave to get anything better.”

Four days.

My throat tightens, emotion clawing its way up as I look at him again. Four days. He stayed. For me. Tears burn behind my eyes, but I blink them back.

“Do you need anything, sweetheart?” The nurse’s voice is soft, pulling me from my thoughts.

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