Page 25 of Broken Love

I don’t want to; I’m too young.

Mom would be so sad.

“She’s waking up,” a soft-spoken, feminine voice says from somewhere to my left. Warmth infuses me, and my hands are being held on both sides. My eyes flutter as I struggle to open them.

“Sweetheart?” Tucker.

“Hey, baby.” Tanner.

I open my mouth to speak, but I feel like all the moisture has been sucked out, and I can’t get my lips or tongue to move correctly.

“It’s alright, Windsor. You’re going to be fine. Don’t push yourself to do anything but rest and try opening your eyes,” the first voice instructs.

The feel of lips on my hands makes me smile, and I become emotional. My throat grows tight with it. “Sshhh, baby, everything is fine. We’re both right here, and we’re not going anywhere.” It’s Tanner’s promise that helps soothe me and allows me to calm down enough to relax and fall into a deep sleep that isn’t filled with worry and pain.

CHAPTER 11

Tucker

Rat poison. That’s what nearly killed our woman. It wasn’t hard to deduce that the poison was planted in the cheesecake that she’d been so excited to eat. Our brothers-in-law are already looking into who had access to her food at the hotel and how they were able to impersonate staff at such an upscale establishment when we checked on their security measures before even taking Windsor there, to begin with.

This shouldn’t have fucking happened, and I’m livid that it did when we should have protected her. There’s nothing we wouldn’t do for her, and feeling as helpless as we have isn’t something I want to experience again.

“You need to cool down, brother.” Tanner’s hand on my shoulder is meant to be reassuring as we watch Windsor sleep for the second day in a row. At first, it was because they hadn’t been able to remove all the poison from her body—some had already been absorbed. And then, it was due to medication keeping her comfortable and calm. Now, she’s flat-out exhausted.

“I can’t,” I grit out through clenched teeth. “She needed us, and we failed her.”

“How?” We both spin around at the sound of our father's voice as he enters with a vase of flowers and a teddy bear in his hands. “How exactly did you fail her when you had no idea there was a threat?”

His logical question gives me pause. “We should have been more cautious.”

“Are you telepathic, Tucker? Can you read minds?” Christ, why is he trying to free me of the guilt? “Because I’m telling you right now, that unless you can somehow see into the future, you’re only ever going to be able to figure shit out in the moment.”

“Bad things happen, Tuck. We can’t control everything.” I close my eyes and breathe deeply at Tan’s conviction while playing that day over in my mind for the hundredth or more time.

We had ordered lunch to be brought down to our cabana at a specific time but hadn’t requested dessert because we knew Windsor wasn’t huge on sweets. We hadn’t run into anyone who would have been insulted or hurt by anything one of us said or did. There was no rhyme or reason to her attack.

Which means it must be personal.

The question is, is it her or us this person is after?

Logic dictates it’s us because we make enemies from business deals all the time. People hate our success. They want it for themselves, and when we outbid a competitor for clients, they can get pissed and vindictive.

Windsor hasn’t had a chance to hurt another living soul in her life. We know she’s been all about her mother and the woman’s illness for years. Before that, she was focused on school and getting good grades so she could earn scholarships.

It would seem impossible to be about her, right?

“Excuse me, gentlemen. I need to pop in to have a look at our patient.” A pretty, blonde nurse, whose eyes are eerily familiar, smiles at us as she moves to Windsor.

I keep my eyes on her as she moves to grab the chart. “This is Windsor James?” The shock in her tone brings me to attention.

“Yeah, why?” Tanner’s every bit as suspicious as I am now.

“It’s just we met a few weeks ago. She was looking for her sister.” The nurse’s face has drained of all color as she stares back at us.

“What’s your name?” I suddenly ask. Windsor hasn’t shared much about her sisters, but we know their names.

“Lux James.” Her eyes move back to Windsor, who has woken up at the interaction. “Am I the sister you told me about?” Tears fill our woman’s eyes as she slowly nods her head. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Lux sits on the side of Windsor’s bed.

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