Chapter 41

CHAPTER

FORTY-ONE

EDMUND

Samuel and Cora left a bit ago to get cleaned up. Grant and Abigail are about to head home as well to work on a few items for tonight. As they leave, I glance down at my watch and realize that it’s been nearly an hour since I spoke with the nurse.

Harper should be in recovery by now.

With me sitting by her side.

I’m about to go hunt down the nurse when she walks into the room with a solemn look on her face. Taking one look at her, I blurt out, “Is she dead?”

“No.” She quickly grabs my hand. “She coded as they were closing her up.”

Oh God…

“They were able to bring her back. But they had to go back in. I’ve been assured they’re finishing up now. She’ll be in recovery in about ten minutes. I can take you there now.”

Following behind her, she leads me into a private suite to wait for Harper. No more than a few minutes later, she is wheeled through the doorway.

“Fuck, little rose,” I gasp when I see her. Tubes and wires protrude from her bruised body. I grip her hand as she passes and walk with the bed until they have her settled in the middle of the room. Without releasing her hand, I pull a chair closer to sit beside her.

“We have her pretty heavily medicated,” the doctor says from the other side of the bed. “She’s going to be in a lot of pain, and we want to keep her comfortable overnight so that there is less stress on her heart.”

I nod as I listen to him, just relieved to finally have her soft, warm hand in mine again.

“Stay. Talk to her.” He closes her chart. “Just let her sleep, and know that if she does wake up tonight, she isn’t going to be very lucid.”

As he leaves us, he closes the door behind him.

I press my lips to the back of Harper’s hand as I hold it in mine. With my lips vibrating against her skin, I vow, “He’s going to regret ever meeting you, little rose. And he will never fucking touch you again.”

Never letting go of her hand, I sit at her bedside for hours. The sun falls over the horizon as I kiss her knuckles and beg her for forgiveness.

Forgiveness she can’t give me.

Just shy of midnight, Grant and Abigail step through the doorway into Harper’s hospital room. With her dainty hand in mine, I rise from my seat and offer it to Abigail.

“I’m going to leave you with Abigail for a bit,” I kiss the back of her hand before passing it over. “I have to go take care of something for you.”

I lean over her bed until my face is inches from hers. Gently, I place a soft kiss beside the sutured gash on her forehead. Another on her well-bruised cheek. And one beside her ear as I whisper, “I love you, little rose. And I promise, this will be the last time I ever leave you.”

Standing over the bed, I tenderly slide my finger along her jaw as I take a heavy breath.

“I’m ready.” I turn toward Grant and ask, “Is everyone else?”

He gives a single nod, and the two of us walk from Harper’s room. Silently, we make our way to the parking garage, where Will and Samuel are waiting in a blacked-out Suburban.

The four of us are in this together.

If one of us goes down, we all go down .

Crossing town, we make it to Detective Asshole’s house in about twenty minutes. His meager home is nestled between trees on a desolate country road. His nearest neighbor is a mile away—too far away to hear his screams that are coming.

“We walk from here.” Will pulls the SUV to the side of the road at the edge of Michales’s driveway. “Unless he’s a sound sleeper, there’s no way the ground being churned up by the SUV won’t wake him. I’ll come back for the car when we’re done.”

Reaching the cabin, we all pull on a pair of gloves. There will be no evidence that any of us were ever here.

Will enters first, and the rest of us follow silently behind him. All of us stealthily make our way to the bedroom at the back of the house. Flanking the bed, Will grabs the pistol from the nightstand beside him as I flip on the small lamp on the one next to me.

“What the fuck!” Michales startles from his sleep to find me looming over him. Quickly rolling over to reach for his gun, he finds himself face-to-face with the barrel of it.

“I wouldn’t.” Will presses the muzzle to his forehead.