Page 65 of Beautiful Ruins
Jasmine pulled back, and swiped at her tears, while I tried to keep mine from destroying me. It was Logan’s ceiling fan all over again. Only this time, I was watching it unfold in real-time. I didn’t know if that was worse or better.
She pointed down the hall, her voice raw. “He’s been asking for you. Come on. I’ll take you to him.”
My heart lurched, desperate and wild in my chest. The words rang hollow, too fragile to be real. Rowan had been asking for me? The universe was laughing at me at that point, giving me what I’d always wanted with one hell of a catch—he might be taken from me before I’d even had him.
My legs were jelly beneath me, and a static buzzing had set up in my head as Jasmine pulled me by the hand, dragging me down the never-ending hallway. Each step stretched it further, until Rowan’s screams pressed against my skull, echoing louder and more desperate until it filled every inch of space. Every inch of me.
I couldn’t breathe.
My bottom lip trembled, my entire body shaking. I was barely keeping myself upright when Jasmine paused in front of a door at the end of the hallway and squeezed my hand. I swallowed against the bile rising in my throat and blinked through the tears clouding my vision. She knocked, but I couldn’t hear it over the sound of my blood rushing through my ears.
Footsteps approached from the other side, and the doorswung open. Bear stood in the open doorway. His white T-shirt now stained bright red.
My hand flew to my mouth, and the first tear of many rolled down my cheek. “Oh my god,” I mumbled behind my hand, stumbling backwards. He was barely recognisable beneath the mess of red that stained his clothes and arms. “Is that—where’s Rowan?”
Was that Rowan’s blood? Or was it someone else’s? There was so much. How could anyone have survived losing it all?
Bear swiped his wrist across his nose and stepped back. “He’s been asking for you, Sades.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat like that might force the pain down. He placed a hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “He’s not in a good way.”
Each word was like a fist to my gut. He didn’t need to spell it out for me.
All I could manage was a nod, but even that was like wading through water, heavy and slow. I pressed my lips together. It was the only way I could stop the sob that was threatening to tear from my throat and shatter into a million pieces.
“Is he . . .” I swallowed, the words catching in my throat. “Is he going to die?”
There was no way I was ready to hear the answer.
Not again. Please . . . not this time.
Bear’s gaze shot past me, his dark eyes vacant. The silence stretched out, each second a new brand of torture.
Finally, he exhaled, long and slow. All I wanted was for him to tell me the truth. Was I going to lose Rowan the way I’d lost Logan?
He was dragging out the seconds, and I was close to grabbing him by the shirt and demanding he answer me. Ididn’t care if it destroyed him to say it—I needed it. Needed the truth like oxygen.
With glassy eyes and an unspoken apology hanging between us, he lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know.” His voice was gruff, but I didn’t miss the sympathy in it. “Come on. You can see him.”
My breath came out as a strangled mess. I didn’t know how I was still standing, let alone moving, but I followed Bear as he led me across the small room to another door on the opposite side. He flattened his palm against the wood, jaw clenched, clinging to the moment like it might snap under pressure.
He blew out a breath and pushed the door open. The scent of blood and antiseptic hit me, sharp and clinical, as we entered the room. This one was a little bigger, but it somehow seemed smaller, more suffocating. The place reeked of blood and trauma—more butcher shop than hospital room.
Rowan lay on the bed, chest rising shallowly, blood streaking across his bare skin. My footsteps faltered on the scuffed white tiles. It was like something out of a nightmare. My worst nightmare.
A lean man in a blood-smeared white shirt stood at Rowan’s bedside, sleeves rolled, jaw tight. His hands moved fast—too fast—as he pushed a syringe of something clear into Rowan’s IV. It was obvious he didn’t belong there, yet he seemed as comfortable as one could be in that type of situation. I don’t know why, but I trusted him. Trusted him with Rowan’s life.
He glanced up when we approached, and nodded to Bear, like what they were doing was a regular occurrence.
“Sadie.” My name came out broken and weak from the middle of the room.
I choked on a breath as Rowan’s eyes found mine,bloodshot and barely open. He reached for me, his hand shaking, smudged red.
“I’m here.” Something in me screamed not to look, but I couldn’t stay away.
I stumbled to his side, caught his hand in mine, and pressed it to my cheek. I held it there, breathing in the scent of dried blood, squeezing like it somehow might keep him alive. Nothing else mattered, only that he was still breathing, still fighting. There was no way I was going to let him go.
“Hey . . . Firefly,” he choked out, barely more than a breath.
The name lit up every broken memory I’d tried to bury. He was so fucking pale under the harsh fluorescent lights flickering above us.
