Page 35 of Chase

“You did!” I counter. “Omission is still a lie, Samantha. Not telling me what the fuck was going on is still untruthful. Your actions are more eye-opening than what you say.”

“I didn’t want to cause you trouble.”

“Well, while you were not causing trouble.” I lift my hands to form speech quotations on the word trouble. “You were enjoying my brother’s attention.”

She falls silent, her eyes dropping away. I expect her to cry again, but she doesn’t. After a few moments, her gaze lifts and fierce blue eyes hold mine. She stands and straightens her shoulders.

“Is it too much to ask for understanding? Could you possibly entertain the idea that by not telling you perhaps I was protecting you?”

“Protecting me?” I scoff. “How does lying protect me?”

“I didn’t want to be the one who wrecked your relationship with the man you put on a pedestal. The man you think the sun shines from every fucking day. I didn’t want to be that girl.” Her hands ball into fists, and she looks from me to the other men then back to me. “Maybe I thought I could handle it? I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. He would never do that to you, never mind me.”

I blink, unsure how to respond as her words start to make an insane kind of sense. Nothing about this situation or our lives, in general, is normal, so why would this be any different? Of course my brother and I would be obsessed with the same girl. Russell and I have always fought over everything while patting each other on the back.

What hurts most is that deep down I knew there was something, but this I wasn’t expecting.

“Russell loves you, Connor, you’re the most important person in his world.” She deflates slightly as the height of our argument starts to dispel. “Part of me wondered if he was looking out for me because he knew I was important to you.”

“Important to me?” I repeat back. “Samantha, I’m in love with you.” She swallows visibly, taken aback by my admission. “But this is a lot to take in—you, him, and everything that’s gone on behind my back.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, reaching for me again. “How can I—” Her words are interrupted by the elevator sounding, and we charge back through to the living area.

Matthew stands in front of the open doors. He smiles broadly before saying, “We found him, and he’s alive.”

Chapter thirteen

Varley Medical, London

Samantha

Connor paces up and down the corridor for the hundredth time. Russell is having his injuries assessed by Dr. Rivera. She banished us all from the room. I sit on the blue leather chair in the hallway and watch him stress over and over about what happened—how it was him who caused his brother to fall to near death.

After Matthew appeared at the penthouse, he told us that Russell had been found and they were waiting on an ambulance and the fire department. Unbelievably, Russell had merely dropped five stories onto the sun lounger on an extended balcony of an apartment on the fifty-second floor. During his descent, he’d apparently hit his head on a railing and knocked himself unconscious. The rattan material of the lounger had broken his fall.

His suspected injuries, according to the paramedics, were concussion and a broken leg. I’d blinked at Connor in shock when he relayed what he was told in the ambulance. I had followed behind in a car with Violet and Harrison. Mrs. D was called in the middle of the night to take care of Evie.

“Only Russell Chase could fall from the fifty-seventh floor and not die,” Hunter says with a chuckle to no one in particular.

“We don’t know for sure what his injuries are,” Connor snaps back. “It could be more serious.”

“Nah, that balloon has enough hot air in him to cushion any fall. He’ll be fine.” Hunter stands, then walks over and grabs Connor’s shoulder. “You didn’t kill your brother, my friend. Stop beating yourself up and be thankful for how tonight ended.”

Violet sits beside me, holding my hand. Connor hasn’t touched me since we arrived here. He’s been deliberately moving out of my way. The other men are scattered in seats in the corridor, talking between themselves quietly, all of us impatiently waiting for any news of what is happening. Finally, the doctor steps out of the treatment room.

Dr. Rivera walks up to Connor and embraces him warmly. He hasn’t mentioned knowing her beyond pleasantries since I worked here. “He’s going to be fine,” she says with a small smile. “A displaced fracture to his left tibia and moderate concussion. Minor injuries considering what happened.”

“Can I see him?” Connor asks, hope obvious in his voice. The doctor smiles again kindly. The woman in front of me is far removed from the dragon I’m used to working for. Her usual persona is cold and sharp as she orders us around the ward, criticizing any small perceived flaw.

“Yes, he’s sleeping though, and you’ll need to be quiet. The fracture in his leg can’t be set and put in plaster until the swelling reduces. We conducted an MRI scan for any damage to the brain, and there is some minor inflammation, which is expected with this type of injury. But all in all, I’m not concerned there will be any lasting harm.”

“Excellent,” Connor says, his mood lightening. “Please, can my sister come in too, Doctor?” She looks at Violet still holding my hand; her focus then lands on me and her eyebrows lift in surprise.

“Trainee Nurse Coleman,” she says. She emphasizes the word trainee. “What are you doing here?”

I look up, and her eyes narrow. “I was at the apartment when the fall occurred,” I tell her.

“Mr. Chase’s apartment?” she questions. Her expression darkens further as I nod. “And what would you be doing there?”

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