Page 146 of Brutal Heir
I don’t remember releasing her. One moment she’s in my arms, and the next, she’s being wheeled away by a dozen hands. Her blood coats my jacket. It’s on my fingers. In my mouth. Fills my nostrils.
They take her behind the swinging doors, and I try to follow, only to be blocked by a nurse with a hand to my chest. “You can’t go in there, mister.”
“The fuck I can’t—” I loom over the woman, ready to shove her out of the way if that’s what it takes.
“You want her to live?” Her eyes lock onto mine, as green as cut emeralds and fierce as fire, and for a second, she reminds me of my Rory. “Let us do our job.”
I stagger back like I’ve been punched. The doors slam shut in my face.
Silence.
Except it’s not silent. Not really. I can hear every rasp of my breath, every racing heartbeat in my skull.
Isabella holds my arm and offers a reassuring smile. “She’s going to be okay, Ale. She must be strong as hell if she’s put up with you all these months.”
I can’t decide if I want to smile or cry. Isabella’s not wrong, butDio, Rory didn’t seem strong a second ago. She looked so pale, so weak, so small…
Damn that fucker, Conall Quinlan.
Before I leave Ireland, I’ll ensure his entire operation is burned to the ground. Nothing but ashes will remain of the great Butcher of Belfast’s empire.
I blink, focusing on the closed door. Rory’s on the other side of it bleeding out.
Serena’s pacing. Raf and Matteo are out of sight, likely stationed at one of the other entrances. Antonio’s watching the front door like a wolf waiting for a threat.
But I’m the only one who might break. Because I’ve never felt this powerless in my life.
Seconds stretch. Minutes, maybe. Time warps in a hospital hallway like that. Then the alarms start.
A long, sharp monotone that drills through the quiet like a blade.
Flatline.
“No…” I whisper, frozen. “No, no, no?—”
Then I’m moving, slamming into the door. It doesn’t budge. I hit it again and again. The hinges wine, then a sharp crack.
Doctors are shouting as I race in. “She’s in v-fib. Get the paddles?—”
My knees nearly give out.
She’s dying.
No. She can’t die. Not after all this. Not after I finally found her.
“Fight, Rory. Please,” I beg, voice cracking. “Come back to me,amore. Come back?—”
“Clear!” someone shouts beside her limp form.
A flash of electricity. Nothing. Again. “Clear!”
The beep returns. Soft and slow. Then another, until it settles into a steady rhythm.
Oh, thankDio.
My back hits the wall as I collapse onto the floor, a sob wrenching from deep in my gut. I don’t care who hears. Let thewhole world see me fall apart. The only thing that matters is that stable, stuttering beep.
She’s alive. Barely.
