Page 196 of The Sinner's Bargain

We sat in silence as people rushed up and down the corridor and voices echoed over the speakers. No one seemed to notice or care that two grown ass adults were crouched on the floor, nor would I have cared if they had.

I was about to shut my eyes again when I remembered the other figure who had scrambled into the SUV with us. My head turned to the man a few feet away, standing against the wall, arms folded, glowering at a poster about booster shots.

Malcolm hadn’t said a word the entire time. Hadn’t asked questions. He watched me haul his sister out of a dark, dank room and rush her to the hospital. He probably thought I was the one who put her there and I was too tired to explain anything else.

So, I rested my head back and closed my eyes again.

Hours passed.

Square patches of sunlight carved across gleaming white tiles and a strange, new energy filled the air that was absent during the wee hours of dawn. Neither Cyrus, Malcolm, nor I had moved in all that time. Not for coffee. Not to use the washroom. We sat in our silence and waited for a single person to give us news.

It came from a small, brunette with tired, green eyes and a million freckles. She tore off her mask as she hurried over to us.

Hours of unmoving limbs pressed into icy tiles did not make for an elegant first impression when I struggled to get to my feet.

“Who’s next of kin?”

“I am,” both Malcolm and I said simultaneously.

“I’m her brother,” Malcolm challenged, blue eyes fixed on me as if daring me to top that.

“I’m her husband,” I countered, in no mood. I couldn’t even find the patience to be smug when he blinked in surprise.

The doctor glanced between us but opted to ignore the tension.

“She’s okay. She’s resting—”

“When can I see her?” I demanded, not needing to know anything else beyond she’s okay.

The doctor put her hand up. “We’re still monitoring her. Whatever she got into her system isn’t in our database. We’re running tests on the sample you brought us, but it’s going to take some time.”

“Is my sister going to be okay?” Malcolm demanded.

“We believe so?” But she didn’t seem sure and that sent a prickle of panic coursing through me. “She didn’t get enough in her system to cause any kind of long-term concerns, but we do want to keep her for a couple of nights to keep an eye on her. The doctors do have a few more questions regarding the substance and where it came from, but that can wait.”

She offered us a kind smile before motioning us to follow her.

I got through the door before Malcolm could. It wasn’t a damn race, but I saw him quickening his strides.

Naya lay on a narrow bed, hooked to a million wires and machines. An oxygen mask sat over her face, and she was so pale. So still.

I took the spot at her hip and took her slender hand and brought it to my lips. I never took my eyes off her, searching for even a flicker.

I was vaguely aware of the figure taking her other side. My body instinctively stiffened and shifted when he touched her brow and smoothed the hairs at her temple. He dragged over a chair and sat.

“You married my sister?”

It was the first sound besides the machines in nearly two hours. The explosion of words nearly made me jump.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

I looked away from my transfixed stare at Naya’s face to frown at the asshole. “Why not?”

His audacity was unwavering as he met my gaze head on. “Because she’s my sister and I swore to always protect her, even from assholes who think they can manipulate and use her.”

I wasn’t sure if he meant me or Brixton, but I didn’t like the implication.

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