Page 53 of Ensnared
"I can protect you," he murmured, his voice softer now, almost gentle.
A bitter laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it. "You can’t. No one can. Not without everything in my life being in jeopardy."
His eyes searched mine, a flicker of something—pity, maybe—passing through them. "What did he offer you?" he whispered, his breath ghosting over my skin. "What did he promise to make you agree to this?"
"I can’t tell you," I whispered back, my voice barely audible. "But our marriage will happen."
Vaughn’s lips brushed against my own, a feather-light touch that sent a shiver down my spine. He pulled back, pressing a kiss to my cheek, lingering just long enough to make my heart race.
"You’re just an asset to him," he said, his voice low and full of warning. "And when you become a liability, he’ll forget you. We all eventually become his liabilities."
With that, Vaughn turned and walked out of my office, leaving the door wide open. I stood there, my breath coming in shallow gasps, my stomach twisting in knots. The monitor on the wall flashed the latest financial news, but the words blurred together. I had five minutes to meet Logan for lunch, but the thought of facing anyone right now made me feel sick.
I decided to take the stairs down to the forty-third floor, avoiding the main elevators where I might run into Vaughn, Simone, or even Colson. As I pushed open the door to the stairwell, a sudden force from behind sent me tumbling forward. I was wearing heels, my balance already precarious, and there was no way to stop my fall. The last thing I felt was the cold metal of the railing as my head slammed into it, and then everything went dark.
Chapter 21
A dull, throbbing ache spread across my entire body, pulling me from the depths of unconsciousness. The harsh, sterile brightness of the lights overhead burned through my eyelids, forcing them open with a slow, painful flutter. My head pounded viciously, each throb amplifying the knot that had formed at the side of my skull. I felt disoriented, like I was floating between dreams and reality, unable to piece together how I’d ended up here.
I blinked rapidly, trying to focus, but the room was a blur of white coats and indistinct faces. Nurses and doctors moved around me, their voices blending into a low, indistinguishable hum. Someone poked at my arm, another pressed something cold to my forehead, but all I could focus on was the pain and the overwhelming sense of confusion that gnawed at my insides.
Where was I? What had happened?
“Josephine.”
The voice was soft, familiar, but laced with an undercurrent of something I couldn’t quite place. My gaze slowly shifted tothe source, and there he was—Colson. He stood by my bedside, towering over the sea of medical staff, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.
"Colson?" My voice was barely a whisper, raspy and weak.
“You’re safe,” he said, his tone calm, almost reassuring, but there was something cold beneath the surface. He reached out, his hand gentle as he brushed a strand of hair from my face. “You took a nasty fall.”
The memory hit me like a tidal wave—Vaughn, the stairwell, the sudden push. Panic surged through me, making my heart race. “What happened?” I managed to croak out, my throat dry and tight.
“You hit your head,” Colson replied, his hand now resting on mine. His grip was firm, grounding me in the chaos that surrounded us. “You’ve been in and out of consciousness for a few hours. The doctors are running tests to make sure there’s no serious damage.”
I tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through my skull, forcing me to collapse back onto the bed with a groan. The nurses around me exchanged quick, concerned glances, one of them stepping forward to adjust something on the monitor beside me.
“You need to stay still,” Colson instructed, his voice firm, almost commanding. “The doctors said rest is crucial right now.”
I nodded slightly, wincing as the movement caused another wave of pain to ripple through my head. “Vaughn…?” I whispered, the name slipping out before I could stop it.
A flash of something—anger, perhaps—flickered in Colson’s eyes, but it was gone just as quickly as it appeared. “Vaughnwasn’t there when they found you,” he said, his tone measured. “But don’t worry about that now. Focus on getting better.”
His words should have been comforting, but they weren’t. Something about his demeanor, the way he was holding back, made my skin crawl. I searched his face for answers, but his expression was unreadable, a mask of concern that I wasn’t sure I could trust.
“Rest, Josephine,” he repeated, his voice softening. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
I wanted to protest, to demand more answers, but exhaustion was already dragging me back under. The last thing I saw before my eyes closed was Colson’s face, hovering above me like a shadow, his presence both comforting and terrifying at the same time. The darkness took me again, and this time, I didn’t fight it.
The rhythmic beeping of a monitor was the first thing I noticed as I drifted back to consciousness. The sterile scent of antiseptic hung in the air, and the muffled hum of hospital activity seeped through the walls. My body felt heavy, the dull ache in my head now more of a persistent throb. I blinked against the dim light filtering through the room, trying to get my bearings.
I wasn’t in the same room as before. The clinical white walls and harsh fluorescent lights had been replaced with something warmer, more intimate. The bed I was in was larger, more comfortable, with soft, cream-colored blankets pulled up to my chest. A private room.
It was late—well into the evening, if the darkness outside the window was any indication. A soft, ambient light glowed from a small lamp on the bedside table, casting a gentle halo over the room. I turned my head slightly, wincing at the sharp stab of pain that followed, and saw Colson sitting in a chair beside the bed, his laptop balanced on his knees. He was deep in concentration, his fingers moving swiftly across the keyboard, the blue light from the screen illuminating his sharp features.
“Colson?” My voice was weak, barely more than a rasp, but it was enough to draw his attention.
He looked up immediately, closing the laptop with a quiet snap and setting it aside. His expression softened as he met my gaze, though I could still see the tension lurking in the corners of his eyes. “You’re awake,” he said, leaning forward in his chair. “How are you feeling?”
