Page 96 of The Road Less Traveled By

“No thanks,” I say as I look at the doctor. “What happened?”

“You absorbed fentanyl through your nose when that pie got thrown in your face. It was laced in whipped cream. Around five milligrams, which is almost twice the lethal dose.”

I hear Bree sniffle as she wipes her eyes. “Excuse me,” she says as she leaves the room. My sister's eyes follow her out of the room, and when she looks back at me, her eyes sadden.

“Is she okay?” I ask Nico.

“Not really. I’ll explain later,” Nico says, turning his attention back to the doctor.

“We’re going to keep you for a few days. We’ll be giving you lots of fluids, and taking more blood soon to get an accurate reading of how much entered your body. I’ll be back later on my rounds.”

My sister follows the doctor out, no doubt to ask a thousand questions, and as the door clicks behind them, I turn to Nico. “What’s going on?”

“Bree’s blaming herself for what happened to you.”

Fuck.“Why? I’m her bodyguard, for fuck’s sake. It’s my job to—”

“I told her all that, but Ralph sent her a text about what happened last night. He did this. It’s confirmed. He’s escalating, and he’s not just going after her anymore. He’s going after everyone she cares about because he knows it hurts her just as bad.” Nico swipes through his phone forsomething, and then he shows me a screenshot of the message Ralph sent.

Unknown: I guess I’ve moved onto your inner circle now, Bree. It’s so delightfully fun to see you all up in arms over your loved ones getting hurt. You’re such a caring person, sweetheart. It’s one of the things I love most about you.

Unknown: But they’re keeping you from me, and I cannot have that. So, I can do this one by one, or I can try to get them all at the same time before I whisk you off into the sunset, never to be heard from again. We can finally be together, Bree. Isn't that something? It’s all I’ve wanted for years, and we’re so close to having it.

Unknown: Tell that bodyguard of yours to stop touching what’s mine; if he survives, that is. R.

Fucking hell, this guy is batshit crazy.

If I had the strength, I’d throw Nico’s phone across the room, but I can only manage to toss it across my bed. “How did you get that?”

“I took Bree’s phone while she was asleep and screenshotted it. I also emailed it to myself, just in case.”

“That’s an invasion of privacy, Nico.”

He runs his tattooed hand through his hair, the bags under his eyes telling me he hasn't slept. “What did you want me to do, Vince? The girl was breaking down on the floor of this room, blaming herself, and I did what I do best. I tried to trace the signal from his phone, but itwas another burner, another fucking dead end,” he shouts, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not the only one who cares about her. I was willing to do anything I could to help, so I hacked her phone. Her password was way too fucking easy to guess.”

“I understand that, but—” The door opening has the two of us pausing, and Bree comes back into the room, her eyes still puffy and her face wet with tears.

She’s still blaming herself, and nothing I say will help her realize I’d do it all over again the same way if it meant she wasn't the one getting hurt.

“Did you tell him?” she asks Nico, and he nods. “Good.”

“I’ll leave you two for a bit. I have to head to the office and see if they’ve made any progress. I’ll be back later.”

“Thanks, Nico. For everything,” I tell him as he leaves, and when I turn to face Bree, I can’t tell what she’s thinking. Normally, I can read her like a children's book, but right now, she has closed herself off, and I have a feeling I’m not going to like what she’s going to say.

“Vince, I—”

“Come here, angel. Come lay next to me,” I say as I pat the side of my bed.

“No, I—”

“Please, Bree. I just want to hold you while I explain how none of this is your fault.”

That causes her tears to fall harder. “How can you say that, Vince? How can you sit there after what happened and still try to make me feel better? You saw what he said. You saw what he’s doing, and you still want to say none of this is my fault?” Her blonde hair is cascading down in front of her eyes, as if she’s using it as a shield.

“That’s exactly what I want to do, because it’s not your fault. You can’t blame yourself for simply existing, Bree. Ralph is the one doing this toyou. It’s not the other way around.”

Her head falls to her hands, and even before the words are out of her mouth, I know what she’s going to say. “If you want off my case, I understand.”

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