Page 61 of Tell Me Why
I pull the note from my pocket and hold it up. “I found this in the bedroom where you fell. Do you know what it says?”
Why would someone write a threatening note in code unless they thought she could read it? What would be the point, otherwise?
Her eyes drift to the note, and she licks her bottom lip, brows pinched. She shakes her head. “All I see are a bunch of symbols.”
Shoving the note back in my pocket, I take her hand—it’s ice cold—and enfold it in mine. “I’ll find out what happened,” I say with a calm I don’t feel. But I don’t want to freak her out. “It was probably an accident.”
When she looks up at me, something shifts in my chest—a visceral, primal response. She looks so vulnerable in this massive hospital bed, and the thought of someone deliberately trying to harm her…fuck,it makes me want to tear Rush House apart brick by fucking brick until I find the asshole who did it.
“When I felt my throat closing, I searched for my EpiPen, but it wasn’t in my bag,” she says. “Did you take it?”
“No.” I can’t explain the implications of what that means, so I don’t even try.
“What happened after I passed out?”
“I heard you fall and found you on the floor.” I keep my voice deliberately controlled. “After you told me about your allergy, I stocked a few EpiPens in the bathroom. And thank God I did.”
Suspicion darkens her eyes. “So you knew this would happen…”
“No,” I say quickly. “But Rush House is infested with half-drunk idiots most days. I prepared for…contingencies.”
She exhales heavily and sinks back against the pillow. “I’m exhausted.”
“Your body has been through hell. Get some rest.” I brush my lips across her knuckles. “I’ll be back soon.”
Her eyelids, which had drifted closed, snap open. “No, don’t go.” The fear in her voice cuts through me like nothing else can.
“I need to handle something important.” I hesitate, swallowing hard. “Do you want me to call your brother?”
Bringing Sin into this would ignite an all-out war. He’d blame the Sacred Sons for attacking his sister, and claim it was retaliation for his stunt on the lawn. It’d be a bloodbath.
But I’d do anything to ease the fear on her face. Anything.
“No,” she murmurs, drowsy. “Sin would go insane if we tell him. I’m fine. Really. I just need a little sleep. But...please...stay.”
Machines beep in a steady rhythm as I watch her drift off, her features softening under the harsh hospital lights. Something in my chest constricts painfully as her face relaxes, all tension melting away. Sleeping, she looks nothing like the defiant girl who’s been challenging me for weeks. I can’t look away.
Christ.I’m so fucking gone for her.
Before Eve, I never gave a shit. Never kept a girl longer than absolutely necessary. Three months. Six, max. Then I’d get bored and move on. If a girl tried to recapture my attention by flirting with another guy, I’d cut her loose without a second thought…
But with Eve? The memory of finding her with Aidan makes my blood boil all over again. In my mind’s eye, I can still see his clumsy hands on her breast, his mouth against her ear, whispering some pathetic one-liner.
Eve is mine, and now, everyone knows it. Especially Aidan. I mean, damn, he’s probably lying in this same hospital.
Moving away from the bed, I text Andre and ask him to send one of his guys to the hospital to watch over her. I have no fucking clue who did this or why, but I’m not taking any chances.
Twenty minutes later, Lowe arrives—a mountain of muscle in his mid-forties who takeszeroshit, even from me. No one is getting past this guy. I instruct him to text me the second Eve wakes up, then I head back to the house.
“How’d it go?” Ash asks as I stalk into the living room where everyone is gathered. I checked with the Yates at the front door and no one has entered or left since I left. “How’s Eve?”
I jerk my chin toward the study. “We need to talk.”
Ash heads out, and Jackson follows. Inside the study, I grab a blunt from the desk and light it up, inhaling deeply. It does nothing to calm the rage that’s building in my chest like an inferno.
“Someone put nuts in Eve’s coffee this morning,” I say. “Any whispers about who it might have been?”
Ash crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the sofa. “How do you know it wasn’t an accident?”
