Page 74 of Wicked Serve

“I’m her— Please, I need to see her. Now.”

The woman glances at her colleague, who shrugs. She sighs again as she turns to me.

“She’s on the third floor. But—”

I sprint to the elevators. She shouts something, but I ignore her, slipping into the first one that opens before anyone can stop me. I don’t give a fuck if they haul me out of the building in handcuffs, so long as I can see her first.

On the third floor, things are quiet, lights dimmed for the evening. I don’t see a sign of her or her family in the first part of the floor, so when a doctor opens a set of locked doors, I slip by into the next section. A nurse pokes his head up from a desk to the right. I ignore whatever he asks.

Further down, I see two guys—Cooper and Sebastian—guarding one of the rooms. Blood roars in my ears as I skid over to them. Cooper looks up when he hears me approaching, his eyes going wide. My stomach twists at the sight of the unmistakable pain on his face.

“Abney? What are you doing here?”

“You’re here,” Sebastian says. I catch the relief in his tone.

“I have to see her.” I take a step forward. “Let me inside.”

They give each other a look.

“Please,” I say, my voice breaking. “Please, Cooper, don’t keep me from her.”

I see the moment his bewilderment clicks into understanding. Betrayal. Sebastian dips his chin in a nod, and Cooper stands, dragging a hand down his beard.

“Please,” I say again. “I’ll explain it all later. Just give me five minutes with her.”

“There’s nothing to explain,” he says. His laughter sounds harsh in the otherwise silent hallway. “I understand it all. I thought we were teammates, Nik. Friends.”

“Coop,” Sebastian says, his voice low.

Before Cooper can say anything else, Penny walks over, holding a tray of coffees. She takes a few tentative steps forward, her gaze darting between me and her boyfriend. “Honey? What’s going on?”

Cooper doesn’t look at her. He keeps his eyes, as piercing as they were that first meeting between us, trained on me. He looks fiercely protective. Ready to tear off my limbs. I can’t even begrudge it, because it’s what Isabelle deserves.

“Cooper?” Isabelle calls from behind the door. “Sebastian?”

My knees nearly buckle at the sound of her voice. At least she’s awake, and aware of the fact her brothers are outside the room. Whatever happened to her, it can’t be that bad.

Cooper’s expression doesn’t change, but he steps away from the door. “Five minutes. She has a concussion.”

I slip inside the darkened room before he can change his mind.

I notice her hair first, spread out on the pillow like a dark halo. She’s in a pale blue hospital gown, an IV attached to one wrist, a soft cast on the other. She looks tiny in the bed, tucked into the stark white sheets.

I realize abruptly that I haven’t been to the hospital since I was a teenager. Not since it was me in the bed, wincing as the doctor told my mother that it was lucky the glass didn’t hit my eye. I can still picture her face in perfect detail. The smeared red lipstick, the way her hand shook as she held it over her mouth, and above all, the blue-black bruise on her cheek. I shove the memory away.

“Isabelle,” I whisper.

She turns her head slowly enough, I know it hurts. I yank off my sweater, my gear, dumping it all uncaringly on the floor until I’m just in my under-layers. I ease into the chair next to the bed, reaching out to take her hand in both of mine. She has stitches on her forehead, and the beginnings of a bruise extending from her temple to her cheek. I duck my head, willing myself to breathe, as the tension in my body eases.

She’s safe. She’s looking right at me.

“Nik,” she says, her voice equally soft. “What are you doing here?”

“What happened, sweetheart?”

“My brothers know you’re here.” She squeezes her eyes shut. “Oh God.”

“It’s okay.” I force myself to stay relaxed, to stave off the panic. “Don’t worry about that right now.”

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