Page 21 of Yours Suddenly

She looks down angrily and I lift her chin.

“Who did this?”

She still doesn't say anything.

“If you don't tell me,” I growl, “I'm going back to that town and I'm fucking killing everybody in it. No bullshit.”

The panic grows in her eyes. “I… I got a job at a horse ranch and the owner wasn't happy with the work I'd done, so things escalated and—and —?”

“Andwhat?” I say.

“He did it by accident.”

“You're a bad liar.” I bring my hand gently to the bruise and she winces.

Her eyes widen at the expression on my face. “What are you gonna do?”

I don't answer her.

“Please don't do anything,” she says. “It's not worth it. I'm fine.”

“You're not fine.”

“I'm fine, really I am —!”

“Why are you protecting this fucker?”

She opens and closes her mouth and then says, annoyance coming back over her features, “Oh that's right, you probably think I'm cheating with him?”

“What?” I say, thrown off.

“That's why you assigned Blake to me and don’t want me leaving the house anymore!” she says shrilly.

“What the fuck?” I say. “That's not why —” I give a frustrated growl, pinching the bridge of my nose as murder pulses in my veins.

“Roman, please calm down.”

“Okay, I'll calm down,” I grit out. “But only if you come back home with me.”

She closes her eyes. “I wanted a break.”

“A break so you could come here and get a fucking broken neck?” I spit. “Nah. We're going back home.”

She looks so resigned and, look, it breaks my heart to see her like this but there's no fucking way I'm going back without her, especially after what happened.

Fuck, it's all my fault. I'll never forgive myself for this.

“We're going to the hospital,” I say. I turn away from her and get on one knee. “Hop onto my back. I don't want you walking, especially after making me chase you. Why would you run when you know you're hurt like that?”

Slowly, she climbs onto my back. She weighs nothing, this delicate daisy.My delicate daisy.

I walk us back to the town. I don't have to ask for directions to get to the hospital, I saw it when I arrived in town from the airport with a Portland associate.

At the hospital reception, I tell them my wife has a bad bruise on her neck and I want, I need, the best care for her. I carry her to the hospital room they assigned her.

She starts to hyperventilate.

“It's just… I don't like hospitals,” she breathes.

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