Page 85 of The Italian Reckoning
But then she heard me.
And I tried to save her. I tried to kill that fucker and I failed.
Then she fell.
It plays in a loop in my mind as I stare at Sarah’s unconscious face until my eyes blur. Her angry yell as she leaped onto his back, their struggle back and forth and then Bobby’s fateful step backward into the elevator shaft. They plummeted out of sight, and a part of me died with them.
Only, by some insane stroke of luck, they survived. Both of them.
I would have left Bobby to rot at the bottom of that shaft and buried him under the entire fucking building, but Cormacpointed out that it wasn’t my choice. Bobby’s fate lies in Sarah’s hands. If she ever wakes up.
Tightening my grip on her limp hand, my head sags forward until my forehead rests gently against her bandaged knuckles. While her injuries were numerous, it seems Bobby was taking his time while carving her up. I can’t decide whether that’s a good thing or not. I won’t know, I suppose, until Sarah wakes up and tells me.
My heart beats in rhythm with the repetitive beep coming from the machines Sarah is attached to, and I close my eyes.
I should have been faster.
I should have been better.
It also shouldn’t have taken this fucking hellish event for me to realize that what I feel for her is love. I was fighting it without realizing it because so often, affection and love are withheld or used as some sort of tool over me. By my father, especially. But Sarah?
God. If she wakes up, I will be better for her.
I will be whatever she wants me to be, whatever she needs.
I’ll never let her down again.
“Rocky?”
Her voice rings through my mind like a bell, and my chest squeezes like a hand has reached in and grabbed my heart in its fist. To hear her voice again for real would be more than I can bear, but I will pay any doctor and pray to any deity to get them to bring her back to me.
“Rocky?”
Wait—
My head snaps up like a bullet, and Sarah’s foggy yet gorgeous eyes blink slowly. “Sarah!” Surging up over her, I keep her hand clasped in my own while my other gently cups her bruised face. “Sarah?”
“Rocky.” She blinks and as the fogginess fades from her eyes, a small smile twitches across her lips. “You… you’re really here? Really?”
“Oh, my God, you’re awake!” Tears flood my eyes faster than I can control them and it takes all my restraint not to kiss her. Given what she’s been through, I’m already pushing my luck by touching her. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I’m so fucking sorry. I should have been there for you, I never should have left you alone. I’m so fucking sorry!”
“I’m…” Her eyes close briefly and she frowns when they reopen. “I’m okay?”
“Yes! You’re safe, Sarah. You’re safe. We’re in the hospital and I’m right here. You’re safe. You’re safe, I swear.”
Her eyes shine with tears and a weak sob escapes her lips, then both arms wrap around my neck and she pulls me as close as she can from this angle. Given that she’s reaching for me, I lean into it and hug her as tightly as I dare. Maybe a bit tighter.
“You’re safe.” I repeat it over and over while Sarah breaks down and sobs brokenly in my arms. She refuses to let me go, grabbing into my shirt and clinging to me as tightly as she can, so I move myself onto the bed and gather her into my arms as close as I can around all the lines and wires hooking her up to the machines in her room. Over and over, I assure her that she’s safe. She cries hard and loudly, wailing against my shoulder and trembling like she’s about to shake apart into pieces in front of me. So I hold her tighter.
She cries it all out, still refusing to let go of me, and eventually, she starts to calm. Her forehead rests against my neck with her head resting on my shoulder. She clings as close as she can, and I cradle her against me, then lightly kiss the top of her head.
“I’m sorry,” Sarah croaks, making my head snap back.
“What? What for?”
“I just—I didn’t even check. Before I got on the bike. I should have known.”
“No,” I say firmly, cradling her face with my hand and tilting her head up to look me in the eye. “That bastard knew what he was doing. He’d been making himself friendly with one of our perimeter guards for a few weeks. When they ordered coffee, he delivered it and snuck in, stole my bike. He planned this, Sarah. He knew exactly how to get to you and, seemingly, knew we were close.”
