Page 131 of No Saint

“I can’t do that again, Amelia. I can’t watch that happen to you again. This would be the best option.”

“You are not leaving me!” I shout through the tears, “You are not!”

“You think I want to!?”

“I don’t know, Gabriel,” I snap, “It seems like you’re running away.”

“Don’t!” He growls, “Don’t do that!”

“You wanted me, Gabriel. You told me you loved me,” I taste my tears on my lips, “But you’re running. This is your life Gabriel, and it’s not safe but you wanted me and now what? You don’t?”

“No baby, no,” He lunges, grabbing my face, “I can’t bear to live with myself if you were to be hurt again. I listened to you scream, Amelia and I couldn’t do anything.”

“I thought we were going to die,” I whisper softly, leaning into his hand, “And you know what I thought?”

“What?”

“That if I did, it wasn’t so bad. It was horrific and I’m going to need help but no matter what he did, I still loved you. I still had you. And if I died then, there wasn’t a single thing about us I regretted.”

“Amelia…”

“I’d do it again.”

“I love you,dio,I’d burn the fucking world for you!”

“Then don’t leave me, Gabriel, please.”

His brow drops to mine, and he sighs, “You’re my wife,amore mia,” He tells me, “I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

“Then don’t Gabriel.” My fingers curl into the lapels of his suit jacket, “Then don’t.”

He kisses me softly.

They discharge me three days later.

Gabriel pushes the wheelchair while Enzo and Devon flank my sides, stoic and letting off this menacing aura that kept people at bay.

The whole three days Gabriel stayed with me. Devon popped in, explaining everything, the breaks in my ankle and cheek, how the healing process would go, but when it came tothattopic, the air in the room changed.

It was charged with so much aggression I felt it in every pore. Devon spoke through gritted teeth and barely restrained anger for what had been done to me. I was expected to make a full recovery, that the surgeons, who specialized in reconstructive surgery for intimate areas, were renowned for the levels of success they had with traumas.

I was sore and going to the bathroom was uncomfortable, but I’d live.

Gabriel had both bodies collected from the house and the building demolished in the time I’d been in the hospital. Lucas was having a ceremony tomorrow, and while Asher would not, Gabriel had given him a plot in the family cemetery for Atlas’s sake.

When we reach the idling SUV at the front of the hospital, Gabriel helps me into the back, handing me through the crutches I’d be using for at least the next six weeks and then climbs in next to me, Devon and Enzo taking the front.

It was a quiet drive but easy. I’d made appointments with a therapist to process the trauma, I wouldn’t go through what I had before and leave it until I suffered. I’d work through it now.

Gabriel didn’t mention again the thoughts of leaving me and Camille was bringing Lincoln home tomorrow.

I was tired. I ached.

But I was okay.

Gabriel was okay.

At the house, I take the offered crutches and slide my arms through the braces and take the handles, easing myself from the vehicle. I had a bag of meds and several pamphlets I doubted I’d look at to accommodate me.

---