I broke every traffic law getting to the hospital, pushed away anyone trying to stop me at the hospital until I saw Hannah, pale but alive. My legs nearly gave out from relief. I strode into the room, needing to touch her, to verify she was really alright.
Now I need to get her home and lock her away so Hampton and his men can’t get anywhere near her.
As I take her out of the room, there is something in the way the nurse looks at Hannah as she gives her discharge instructions that sets off warning bells.
“Is she really okay?” I ask.
“Absolutely. She just needs to follow the discharge papers.”
I go to reach for them. If I need to hire a home healthcare worker, I will.
Hannah quickly folds the paper. “It’s the usual. Keep the wound clean. Pain reliever for pain. I just want to go home.”
Maybe it’s me seeing more into the situation. I let it pass, more interested in getting Hannah to the safety of our home.
"Tell me exactly what happened," I demand once we’re in the car. I can see Marco and Tanner in the car behind me. I know Thomas, Dylan, and Schmidt have brought her attacker to an abandoned warehouse where I’ll deal with him later.
"We were leaving the coffee shop. This man approached?—”
“How’d he get so close?” Maybe I need to fire Marco.
“It was my fault. I thought maybe he was from one of the families we've been meeting with." She swallows hard. When I look over, her hands are shaking in her lap. I think it’s finally hitting her. This could have been so much worse. I reach over and take her hand, hoping it will help her feel safe, steady.
"He got close and pulled out a knife. Said the Keans were watching us, and we’d be dead if we didn’t stop interfering. Then he…" She gestures to her bandaged arm.
I squeeze her hand. “He won’t hurt you, Hannah.”
Hannah's eyes fill with concern. "I don't know if… did they kill him?"
"No. He's alive. My men have him." But he’ll be dead before the night is over.
Her eyes widen. "What are you going to do?"
I don't answer immediately. The Keans sent someone to hurt my wife. To threaten her family. Ice spreads through my veins as I contemplate exactly how I'll make this man suffer before he tells me everything he knows. How I'll ensure the Keans understand that touching Hannah means signing their own death warrant.
"Don't worry about him," I say finally, keeping my tone gentle for her sake. But inside, I'm already planning how to make this bastard scream.
When we get home, I carry Hannah inside, her small frame tucked against my chest. Even after the doctors cleared her, she's still trembling. I settle her in the bed, covering her in a blanket.
She looks so small, too fragile as she lies under the blanket. The familiar guilt and grief tangle with new, terrifying feelings. Hannah has become more than just a marriage of convenience with benefits. I want to hold her. Never let her go.
But fear is coiling tight in my gut again. The fear of losing a piece of my soul. And the old instinct to protect myself is strong. But who am I fooling? It’s too late for me. If something happens to Hannah, I won’t survive it.
"I won't let anyone hurt you again. I swear it." But I can’t help but worry that I’ll fail her too. How can I make a promise that I’m not sure I can keep?
Hannah takes my hand. “I’ll be okay. Just a scratch."
But it could have been worse. So much worse. The knife could have found her throat instead of her arm. She could be lying cold in the morgue right now.
No. I can't go there.
"We need to be more careful," I tell her. “No more leaving the house.”
“Ash, I can’t?—”
“You were nearly killed, Hannah. Do you think I’m going to let it happen again?”
She flinches. “No. Of course not. I’m sorry.”
