Page 19 of The Art of You

“I’m next to the bed. I’m covering your hand with mine now. You feel me?”

Bella.

I about choked out a sob hearing her voice, knowing she was alive.

Chills racked my skin, and I began to shudder.

“What’s wrong? Why is he trembling so hard?”

It was her again. My Bella. No. Not mine. But . . .

“I’ll up his pain meds, that’s probably why he’s?—”

“No, don’t,” I begged, reaching into thin air, worried this was all in my head and I was somewhere else. The land of fucking Oz for all I knew.

“You’ll be in pain,” the same someone who’d wanted to drug me warned. “And the shaking won’t stop otherwise.”

“I don’t care about the pain.” My eyes were closed again. When did that happen?

“Go get the governor and tell him his son is awake.” Another voice I didn’t recognize. “Do you know who you are?”

“The Tin Man without a heart.” I laughed.Fuck.The doctor doped me up anyway, didn’t he?

“Easy on the drugs. He said he doesn’t want more.” A deeper voice hit my ears that time. Italian.

“Constantine?” I muttered, trying to piece my broken thoughts together.

“Yeah, it’s me. Alessandro and the others are out in the hallway.” Constantine’s grave tone pierced through the hazy fog as my teeth stopped chattering. “They’ll only let a few of us in here at a time. A nurse is getting your dad now.”

“And where’s Bella?” Did I imagine her voice, or was she really there? “Is she okay?”

“I’m still here. Holding your hand. I’m now touching your face. Can you feel me?” Her words had me finally opening my eyes, and I found heaven staring back at me in physical form.

My throat tightened with regret at the sight of a light purple mark around one of her eyes. “You’re hurt.” She was in a hospital gown, her right arm in a sling. Panic set in, and I tried to sit.

“Easy there.” She rested her good hand on my chest, encouraging me back down.

My head hit the pillow, which felt no different than asphalt. “But your arm. Your eye.”

“I’m not that bad, I promise. And my arm isn’t broken or sprained; it just hurts. My arm must have been bent awkwardly when the bag went off. The sling removes some of the pressure.”

I didn’t believe her, and she must’ve read the look in my eyes because she pulled her arm free from the sling and moved it around to prove she was telling the truth. She couldn’texactly hide the wince when securing it back in the sling, though.

“I’m mostly just sore. Banged my head on the window, which is why I think I lost consciousness. You took a far worse hit than me since your airbag malfunctioned and didn’t deploy.”

Malfunctioned?

“Trust me, Enzo will look into that when he’s allowed near his Porsche.” There was a hell of a lot more to that statement from Constantine. I assumed he’d expand on his words at some point.

“Just glad it was mine that was defective, not yours.” If anything had happened to her, the devil could go ahead and have his way with my soul. I’d have no need for it. “I’m so damn sorry.”

“Don’t you dare apologize.” A few tears fell. “We were hit. This is not your fault. It’s mine. I’m the one who should be sorry. I—I distracted you.”

I reached out for her hand, finding my arm mummified, wrapped in gauze. It didn’t feel jacked up, but . . .Right, I used it as a shield to protect my face since my bag didn’t go off.Of course, I knew I’d have reached out to guard Bella instead if she hadn’t had the cushion. Self-preservation would come second to her.

“You’re sure you’re good?” I asked again, ignoring her ridiculous apology that she didn’t owe me.

She nodded, and at her silent answer, Constantine spoke up. “Izzy slept a good eight or so hours. Once she was cleared, she wouldn’t take no for an answer and marched right into your room.”

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