Page 75 of Rogue Voice

“Rogue!” Bea said, launching herself forward to stop him. “What are you doing?

His free arm stopped fiddling with the IV line and wrapped tight around her. “Bea. Are you alright?”

“I am now. What’s going on? Where do you think you’re going?” she asked.

“Nowhere, now,” he said, pressing her tighter against him. She went willingly, until she was close enough that she could hear the staccato beat of his heart. “I was going to find you. Fuck, I was scared.”

Bea almost laughed. She’d been scared as well.So scared.But the use of the past tense served to calm her.

“You’re okay?” she asked, hating how tremulous her voice sounded.

He shrugged. “Help me take this off. I need to go see Thorne.”

“Uh, I don’t know if?—”

And then Rahmer’s wife was there again. Bea had forgotten her name, but clearly she’d erected herself as their champion.Before Rogue could hurt himself, she helped him pull out the IV line and found a pair of scrubs for him.

“So you’re not walking around the hospital half-naked,” she clarified. “Come on. I’ll take you to see your friend.”

“How is he?” Rogue asked, his expression serious.

The doctor shook her head. “He’s a stubborn bastard, is what he is.”

Bea linked her hand with Rogue, and together they walked the long corridor, each of them in turn supporting and supported by the other.

This room was bigger, and full of beeping machines. Thorne lay pale and wan on a bed that seemed too narrow for him. To his left, several machines beeped asynchronously. Bea’s fear spiked again.

This is my fault. All my fault.

This man was here because of her. All she wanted to do was run away, but she forced herself to stand her ground. She was done running. She dug her heels in, taking comfort from Rogue’s arm on the small of her back, took a deep breath, and padded softly into the room.

“Thorne,” Bea said, staggering forward. She’d been thinking of what to say to him, but any and all words seemed inappropriate. Nothing in her life had prepared her for this moment. What to say to someone who, without even knowing you, had been willing to die for you.

“He saved my life,” she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. Thank you. I’m sorry.” Rogue squeezed her arm protectively and then Thorne’s eyes opened. One of them, anyway. His left eye was swollen shut, his face black all the way from the eye socket down to his square jaw.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed.

“Don’t,” Thorne rasped, speaking through gritted teeth.

Don’t what?Don’t come closer.Don’t speak to me.

Thorne mumbled something, his voice almost unintelligible, his brow furrowed in what had to be pain. At her blank look, he repeated it again, then exchanged a quick look with Rogue.

“Don’t apologize,” Rogue translated. “He means none of this is your fault, Bea.” Thorne blinked his assent.

“You almost died because of me,” Bea said. Another unintelligible mumble from Thorne.

“Because of Cruz,” Rogue said, taking on the role of interpreter. This time, Thorne nodded. He looked tired, as if just those few words had exhausted him.

Bea nodded.Okay.So Thorne wasn’t blaming her. And Rogue wasn’t blaming her.

If only she could stop blaming herself.

“I should go see my uncle,” Bea said, the words rancid on her tongue.

“Fuck him.” This time, Thorne’s words required no interpreting, but Rogue repeated them anyway.

Bea looked at both men. Could it really be as simple as that? “But if I don’t go …” There was nobody else. Nobody would take her uncle’s body.

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