Page 172 of Carnage

“No.” I grab Saint’s shirt. “I need to see Haidyn.” I try to use him to pull myself off the bed.

“No, Ash.” He pries my hands from his shirt and holds them in place in front of me. “You need to rest…”

“Where is he?” I cry. “I’ve got to see him.”

“Devin!” he shouts. The head of my bed is lowered and Saint gets up to stand over me as he holds my wrists in his. I thrash in the bed trying to get up and ignore the pain in my chest.

Then I feel something warm in my arm, and my eyes grow heavy.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” He places my hands on my stomach and brushes my hair off my sweaty forehead. “You’re okay.”

I blink and fresh tears run down my face, and I let the darkness suck me under, trying to think how I’ll live a life without Haidyn in it.

SIXTY-ONE

SAINT

She’s out within seconds.

I smooth her hair out and wipe her tear-streaked face. That blaring fucking alarm is still going off.

“Saint?” the kid speaks.

“Turn off that fucking alarm!” I snap at him. “And where the fuck is Kashton?” I shout, losing my mind.

The male nurse takes a step back into the hall, out of her room. “I’ll look—”

“I got you.” Just then Tyson walks by, grabbing the kids’ shirt and pulling him from the door.

“We need to get her moved,” I order Devin, and he’s already unlocking the wheels on the bed.

Getting to the morgue, we find a private room for her, and I pull up a chair and sit down next to her, holding her hand. The weight of the past four days is making my chest heavy. Honestly, I haven’t had the chance to even process what I saw in Haidyn’s room. I refuse to believe he’s dead. I don’t know where Kashton went, and my cell phone is dead.

I kiss her knuckles and run my thumb over her ring finger. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out her wedding ring. I grabbed it from her place in Vegas and have held onto it since I brought her back. A part of me wanted her to ask for it, but she never did. The other part of me was satisfied that she wore it when I fucked her in Glass.

I’ve kept it in my safe in my bedroom since we’ve returned from Vegas but I pulled it out when she was taken from me four days ago. I slide it onto her finger.

Four years ago

I entermy bedroom to find her lying in bed. The covers up to her neck and she stares at the ceiling. I branded her last week. She doesn’t seem mad anymore, just broken. And it makes me wonder if that’s what our fathers wanted. I’d rather her hate me.

“Hey, sweetheart.” I sit down next to her, and her watery eyes meet mine. I cup her cheek. “I have a surprise for you.”

“What is it?” She licks her plump lips.

I smile, trying to cheer her up. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

“We’re leaving Carnage?” Her eyes light up, and I hate to say no and see them go blank again.

“Not technically,” I say instead, and she frowns, but that light is still there. “Come on.” I pull her to sit up, remove the covers and then help her to stand. “Go pick out something to wear for me.” I gently kiss her lips. “You’ve got ten minutes.”

She goes to the closet and returns wearing a soft pink off-the-shoulder sweater dress that rests high on her thighs with black tights and matching heels. She always loved to dress up for me to show her off. But when you have nowhere to go, it’s pointless. “Do I need makeup?” she asks, dropping her eyes to the floor nervously.

“No,” I say and walk over and take her hand. “You look perfect.”

She blushes, and I slide my hands into her hair, tilting her head back and lowering my lips to hers. I kiss her tenderly, slowly tasting the only thing in this world that I can’t live without. I’m a starving man, and she allows me to feast on her.

I deepen the kiss, and she moans into my mouth, her arms wrapping around my waist, and I groan into hers when her nails dig into my back. I want to grab her ass, lift her and push her down into the bed, but that’ll have to wait.

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