Page 38 of The Fox

“Move, Duncan.” I ask nicely before, but I will force my way into this room if I have to. It doesn’t matter if the man in my way is married to Amelia’s best friend. Duncan sighs, his jaw tensing before moving just enough for me to slide behind him.

I open the wooden door, my heart racing in my chest. My eyes look up at the hospital bed, taking in the sight before me. I only make it two steps before my knees buckle. I feel my bones crash against the tiled floor, the only sounds in my ears are the hum of machines joined by the beeping of monitors.

Amelia.

Her frame is covered by a pile of blankets, an intricate web of tubing and wires extending from her. She is sitting somewhat upright, and the hospital gown is hanging off her body. My chest is incredibly tight, and I don’t know if I can even pull myself from the floor.

Baby.

She looks so frail, such an absolute contrast to the woman I have come to know. I stare at her chest, rising and falling, and then my eyes move.Fuck.A tube is in her throat, a machine pushing air into her lungs because her body would fail her without it. I push my body off the floor and walk to her side. I want so badly to wrap her in my arms, in my warmth, and tell her she’s okay. I settle for the chair placed beside the rail, slumping into it as I grip her hand.

Her fingers are cold, and my heart breaks further.

Kochanie.

I force myself to look–-really look at her. Fuck my heart breaking, my heart now shatters.

Her face is marred with discoloration, a cut is stitched together above her brow. There is no life in her face, no sunshine, but instead, she is pale and more bruised than not. Her lips are cracked, both from lack of fluids and also a result of being beaten. Her hair falls over her face, blood caked within the strands. Her normally vivid lilac highlights are now tinged red. Her eyes are closed and the movement behind them is barely noticeable. One eye is swollen to the point she couldn’t open it even if she was awake.Fuck.I grip her hand tighter, as if the pressure would make those stormy eyes open. My forehead falls to where our hands rest. I feel the tears hit my skin as my shoulders tremble, the shaking consuming my body, and I sob.

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It has been three days without her smile or her eyes on mine. I haven’t heard her laugh or watched Amelia drink her coffee across from me.

She is extubated, and the doctors have eased the sedation, simply now keeping her pain managed while she wakes up. I keep hearing that this is normal and that the team of doctors in charge of her care are not concerned. But every fiber of my being screams in rage. Amelia shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t have to heal from something like this. Duncan tried to pass this off as a mugging; wrong place, wrong time he’d said. This doesn’t feel like a mugging. Whoever hurt Amelia had meant to. They were intentional with their impact, and that is enough to make me spiral.

She is the only tether keeping me here instead of hunting down the men who dared to hurt her.

The halls are still lined with the men in suits, each face more grim than the last. They come in shifts, the same ten men on a rotation like clockwork. I come to understand they’re stationed because Amelia is here. What I haven’t worked out yet is the reason why. I reach her room, taking a deep breath before entering. There is nothing changed within these walls. She is still deathly pale, and the bruises are now looking worse in color, their impact deepening. I set my coffee down on the little table I’ve claimed as mine and reach for her hand, squeezing in hopes today will be the day she’ll squeeze back.

There is a piece of me that dies every time a squeeze isn’t returned.

“Hey,kochanie. It’s me, your Ro.” I sit, elbows resting on my knees as I clasp her slim hand in both of mine, kicking myself for not bringing nail polish to fix the chipped fingernails. The blue polish is barely visible now. I’d never seen her with chipped polish since our first date at the gun range—her nails are always either freshly done or bare. I have a feeling it is to detract her from picking at her cuticles. She fails adorably at not picking them.

“I miss you baby. Parker texted me, reminding me to tell you that Lennon is being annoying. Apparently she can’t put the food right in his bowl. I don’t know why you keep that cat around, Amelia. He’s a menace to everyone,” I pause. “Well, everyone but you. But you already know that don’t you? Maybe that’s why you love that damn cat so much. He has just as many walls to break down as you do.”

I shift on the hard plastic seat, my hands never leaving hers.

“They keep saying you can hear me, but,” my voice cracks, “I need you to wake up, baby. I miss those eyes,kochanie. Everything is wrong without you here. I’m lost without you.” I chew the inside of my cheek, unsure of what else to say that I haven’t already said. I am running out of things to talk about.

The balding doctor leading the team in charge of her care comes in, his eyes evaluating the scene before him.

“How is she this morning?” he asks, as if my answer is going to be any different. “When will she wake up?” I try, and fail, to keep the frustration out of my voice but I’m past my breaking point.

“Rhodes,” he answers, years of patience coating his voice. “Amelia has extensive damage and suffered some pretty severe injuries. She’s lucky to still be here, let alone merely sedated. Yes, Amelia is breathing on her own. Yes, her vital signs have been stable since we extubated her. She still needs time.” His kind eyes land on me, and I see the worry shine through. “Perhaps you should go home for a spell? Shower, and get some sleep.”

“I leave when she leaves.” I lean back and cross an arm against my chest, keeping one hand gripping Amelia’s. The doctor nods his head and turns to leave.

“Keep talking to her, Rhodes. Keep talking.”

I turn back to Ames, wishing that I could switch places with her. I’d do anything to have her come back to me. I resume holding her hand with both of mine, feeling like the instant I let go, she’ll leave and return to the heavens she came from.

“I can’t lose you. You are the very bedrock of my world, Amelia. And I know that sounds cheesy, but it’s true. I’d make a deal with the devil himself if it meant you’d come back home.”

I don’t know how many hours pass before I stand, stretching my aching body. I lean over, placing the softest kiss to Amelia’s forehead to let her know I’ll be back and start my trek to the small cafeteria. I need to scrounge up some snacks before settling in for the night. I find Parker sitting against the wall outside of Amelia’s room, and the look on her face is pure guilt.

“Parker,” I say, walking toward her before crouching down to meet her where she is. Apart from making sure Lennon is taken care of, Parker has been here. She hasn’t slept in days, I’m guessing. Her eyes are tired, and the way her body is slumped makes me think she’s carrying more than is hers to bear. “You should go home. Get some sleep. They’ve taken her breathing tube out, and she’s only sedated. Amelia just needs time.”

“I can’t. I can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see her in that bed, not responding to us, and I just can’t.”

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