Maybe something. Maybe nothing. But she wasn’t chasing it.
The hospital lobby was quiet—too quiet for a place full of people trying to survive. Diamond kept her head down, moving past nurses and patients without making eye contact. She wasn’t here to make friends.
She hit the elevator button and waited; arms crossed tight across her chest. The doors slid open with a dull chime, and she stepped inside, alone.
The ride up was short, but the silence stretched, pressing in around her like a closing fist. She stared at the glowing numbers above the door, jaw clenched, heart ticking faster the closer she got.
What if he’d made up his mind already? What if she walked in there and it was over before it began?
When the doors opened, she stepped into the hallway, boots echoing softly against the sterile tile. The place smelled like antiseptic and something faintly burnt—hospital air that never felt clean no matter how much bleach they used.
She wondered how people spent their days working in the sterile environment—day after day, week after week. The smell alone assaulted her senses. There was no way she could stay there long term. Still she was thankful for those who did.
She followed the numbers until she found his door. Her hand hovered at the handle for a second too long.
This was Sayer on the other side. Not a soldier. Not the patched-in brother or the man who haunted her nights with smirks and sharp words. Just the man. Bruised, broken, and maybe still trying to decide if she was worth the mess that came with choosing her.
She hated how much she felt for him. How deep it went, how fast. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. They were supposed to finish the job and walk away. Clean. Easy. But nothing about Sayer had ever been easy.
He made her want more when she had no business wanting anything at all. And if this was the end of whatever they were, she needed to hear it from him. Not from Teller. Not from silence. From him.
So, she squared her shoulders, exhaled steadily, and pushed the door open. What she expected was stillness. Maybe tension. A quiet man bracing to end things.
What she got was the opposite.
The room was full—six, maybe seven of the Royal Bastards crammed inside, laughing loud enough to make the nurse down the hall shoot a warning glance. Someone was perched at the end of the bed, another leaning against the window, arms crossed and grinning.
Sayer was propped up with a pillow behind him, a fresh bandage on his side, shirt half-buttoned, and a smirk aimed dead at the guy giving him shit about something she missed on the way in.
“She’s gonna trade you in for a dog that listens better,” one of them was saying.
“Wouldn’t blame her,” Sayer shot back, voice rough but steady. “Dog probably doesn’t come with bullet wounds and trust issues.”
The guys laughed, and Diamond stood frozen in the doorway, caught somewhere between confusion and whiplash.
This wasn’t the man she’d come to fight with. This was the man she cared about, surrounded by the people who clearly cared back.
And suddenly, she didn’t know what to say.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“There she is,”one of the guys said, spotting Diamond standing in the doorway.
“You might wanna let the door close before one of the nurses comes down here fussing,” another added with a laugh.
Diamond let the door swing shut behind her. “I see how things are with you,” she said, walking toward the bed. “I’ve been out here worried you were miserable, and you’re in here throwing a damn party.”
“Oh hell, not even an Ol’ Lady a week and she’s already giving you shit,” one of the brothers cracked, laughter rippling through the room.
“No one said anything about me being an Ol’ Lady,” Diamond shot back with a teasing smile. She didn’t want anyone getting ahead of themselves.
She didn’t miss Teller standing quietly toward the back of the room. Diamond gave him a curt nod, then turned her attention back to Sayer.
Leaning down, she kissed him—short, deliberately, unapologetically—to the sound of exaggerated kissing noises from the peanut gallery.
Rolling her eyes, she reminded herself how damn childish men could be.
She studied his face, looking for any hint he didn’t want her there and found none.
