Page 119 of Aria

His hand rose and touched my cheek, so delicately. So lovingly. I pulled his hand closer until he was cupping my jaw, and then he whispered raggedly, “Promise me… you’ll take care of Sam if…”

Noah trailed off as I whipped my head back and forth. “Don’t you dare say that.”

“Please.”

I shut my eyes, squeezing out fresh tears, using Noah’s fingers to brush them away. “I promise.”

Curious whispers echoed around us.

“Is that the band guy?”

“What happened?”

“Aren’t they famous?”

The sirens grew louder. I lifted my head as an ambulance sped toward us.

Brad was cradling Ian in his arms, rocking back and forth on the roadway as traffic came to a stop.

My blood burned with rage, but I needed to focus.

I needed to focus on Noah.

“Noah, they’re almost here. Help is coming.” I applied more pressure to the two wounds as his hand dropped from my face, his eyelids fluttering closed. His skin was ice cold, so I draped my body across him, trying to give him as much heat as possible. His heartbeats sounded slow and far away as the coppery scent of blood invaded my senses, mingling with his musky aftershave. “Stay with me,” I begged, my face pressed against his chest, savoring every precious heartbeat. “Stay with me, Noah…”

CHAPTERTHIRTY

CHELSIE

There weren’t many things in life I hated more than hospital waiting rooms.

Unfortunately, I had seen my fair share.

Riley’s overdose. My grandfather’s heart attack. Two separate car accidents for old friends. Sam.

Now…Noah.

Numbness settled in as I sat in the stiff burgundy chair. Home and Garden magazines were strewn atop a small table to my left, andFriendsreruns echoed throughout the small room. There were others waiting, all with different stories—strokes, pneumonia, broken bones.

I was certain I was the only one waiting for a famous rock star who had been gunned down by a psychotic ex-boyfriend.

I’d been dodging curious stares all evening, and I couldn’t blame them. I was a sight to see in my designer ball gown, covered in blood, and my brutalized bare feet. Glancing down at my ankle, I noticed minor swelling along with an abundance of cuts and colorful bruises. I had denied medical treatment for my ankle because it was anankle. It was nothing compared to what Noah had suffered.

The nerves and anxiety were all-encompassing as my mind kept reliving those moments of terror and disbelief. The look on Noah’s face when he realized he’d been shot. His confession. The blood.So much blood.I could still hear the ringing in my ears from the gunshot. It was a sound I would never forget.

I looked down again, my stomach souring at the sight. Dried bloodstains saturated the front of my gown where stitches had come loose on the bodice. I was one wardrobe malfunction away from flashing everyone in the waiting room. The bottom portion of the dress was shredded and torn, and my chest was still painted in Noah’s blood from where he’d laid his head against me. Emotion caught in my throat as I recalled his life slipping away in my arms.

Ian had also survived the accident and was brought in by a second ambulance. They were both in surgery fighting for their lives.

I had never wished death upon another person before, but I hoped toGodIan Masterson choked on his own blood.

I looked up when familiar faces rushed through the revolving doors—Devon, Tad, Miles, and Lisa. Devon and Tad looked strung out as the group approached me.

“Holy shit,” Devon said, eyeing me up and down.

Four incredulous expressions stared at me. “Yeah,” I mustered. My eyes drifted to Lisa’s stricken face, and I couldn’t help the tears from resurfacing.

“Oh, Chels… come here.”

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