When I open the door, all the air escapes my lungs as I take in the sight before me. A woman with dark hair is bent over, clutching her side. I have to bend down and pull back her hair to reveal who this woman is, but when I do, my heart shatters, and I nearly fall to the ground in shock.
Dakota lifts her chin, and her one green eye that isn’t swollen shut connects with mine. Tears stream down her cheeks, her face is battered, her lips bloodied, and her arm is still holding on to her side.
Shock and anger paralyze me.
“I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t know where else to go,” she whispers.
Her words snap me back to reality.
“Who did this to you?” I somehow manage to grind out through a clenched jaw.
The only response is a gut-wrenching sob that escapes from Dakota’s lips. Whoever did this must be punished, but that will have to wait. Right now, I need to get her to a hospital.
Fuck, I’ve been drinking, and I absolutely refuse to risk it. Instead of calling for a ride service, which I’ve been apprehensive about using since McKenna and Katie’s accident in the back of one, I call a guy I know I can count on at all hours of the night.
“Hello?” he rasps.
“Bennett, hey, it’s Carson. Listen, can you make it to my house as quickly as possible and drive me and my friend to the hospital?”
“Jesus, Wilder. What’d you get yourself into?”
“I really can’t explain right now. If you can’t bring us, just tell me so I can call someone else.”
“No, I’m on my way now. It’s New Year’s. Everyone else is likely still out drinking.”
He’s probably not wrong. Most of our teammates went to a New Year’s Eve party at a club in the city. I cozied up to a bunch of lawyers I don’t even know at my father’s firm’s annual end-of-the-year celebration.
“I’ll be there in ten. And, Wilder, you better not be getting me caught in the middle of a media shitstorm,” Bennett warns.
“I’m not. Thank you, B. I really appreciate it.” I hang up the phone just as Dakota sways on her feet. She groans in pain as I catch her around her waist to keep her from face-planting.
“I’m so sorry, Austen. Don’t worry, I’ve got you. You’re safe. I’m going to keep you safe.”
And I mean every word—keeping her safe has now become my top priority. Most of my anxiety and fear since losing Katie is triggered when I think of losing another person I love and care for. Seeing Dakota bruised and battered—well, it fucking breaks me.
Dakota
Machines beep a steady rhythm even as my lungs fight to expand and contract. I wince as pain ricochets down my spine, but when I do, my face throbs, sending a new wave of pain. I struggle to open my eyes, only able to open my right one. The overhead fluorescent lights are dimmed, but I can make out that I’m in a hospital.
There’s movement on my right side, and I flinch in anticipation of Aaron touching me.
“Austin, you’re okay. I’m right here. You’re safe.” Hearing Carson’s voice immediately puts me at ease. “You’re in the hospital. I’ll call the nurse to get the doctor in here.”
I’m safe, but I’m far from okay. Aaron did this to me—he beat me so badly that I had to be hospitalized.
After pushing the call button on my bed, Carson takes my hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. Such a small gesture shouldn’t make me feel so much relief, but it does.
“I’m so sorry, Carson.”
His brow furrows in confusion. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
Tears flood the vision in my right eye. “I was terrible to you on the dance floor. I never should’ve said those things. I didn’t mean any of them.”
Carson rubs slow circles over my hand. “You were right. I was prying. If anyone should apologize, it’s me.”
I start to argue just as a woman with platinum blonde hair slicked back into a tight ponytail wearing navy scrubs comes into the room carrying a clipboard.
“Hello, my name is Dr. Frederick. I’m the doctor on call this evening. Can you tell me your name?”
