Chapter 89: WHEN

Aiden

She lay on the bed, her chest rising shallowly beneath the thin blanket. Her skin was pale, her face swollen, bruises already blooming across her cheekbones and jaw, angry purple and red that I knew would darken by morning. There were marks along her side, too, where he'd hit her.

I sat close, one of her hands resting in mine, limp and cold as I watched her breathe, counting every rise and fall of it.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from her, terrified that the moment I did, something would go wrong. That she'd stop breathing, and I'd miss it.

"There is no sign of internal complications, so she should wake up soon. We're monitoring her closely to make sure..." The rest of the doctor's words faded into the background.

Soon?

I lifted my head, my gaze drifting back to her face, the split in her lip tearing at my chest. When was soon? Minutes? Hours? Tomorrow?

Fuck. I needed an exact time.

If I hadn't gone to see Freya. If I'd been a jerk as usual and followed her even after she told me not to. If I hadn't let that bastard walk away, especially that. If I had just killed him, this wouldn't have happened.

'Men had laid more hands on me since I met you than in my entire life before.' Were her words to me after Julian touched her. I had promised her then that I wouldn't let another man touch her. That I'd break their hands and kill them.

And like every empty fucking promises I made her, I broke them, leaving her alone to face a man who could have killed her. The thought alone made my chest tighten. She must have been scared, maybe hoping someone would come.

Was I the first person she thought of?

My hands curled into fists, nails biting into my palms as pain bloomed there but not enough. I needed to punish myself more for letting her down. For letting the bastard who did this to her get away easily.

If he'd lived, if there'd been even the smallest chance of survival, I would have saved him just to make sure he suffered so much that death would be mercy to him.

Would she hate me more for not being there?

My legs bounced uncontrollably as I dragged a hand through my hair and yanked harder. She barely tolerated my presence this past few days. I couldn't lose whatever fragile thread still held us together. I'd rather die than let that happen.

"Please," I whispered, my voice breaking as I pressed my forehead to the back of her palm. "Please don't hate me more than you already do."

"When will mummy wake up?"

The small voice startled me reminding me that I wasn't alone in the room.

I turned to Roman who stood a few feet away from the bed, watching her with an unreadable expression. He wasn't crying again or trembling, just a stillness that sat too heavy on his small frame.

When I'd found Leah, he'd been behind the glass door, screaming and pounding his fists against it until his kuncles were red and swollen. After we rushed her to the hospital, he'd been so quiet I'd almost forgotten he was there.

"Soon," I repeated the words the doctors said to me. "She'll wake up soon. Your mummy is a strong woman."

He turned his face to me, dark eyes that resembled mine staring at me like he could see deep into my soul.

"When is soon?"

I don't know either buddy.

I forced a smile. "Come here."

He hesitated, before dragging his feet toward me all the while pouting, then stopping just within reach.

I brushed his hair gently and lowered my voice. "Once you sleep and wake up, She'll be awake too."

He narrowed his eyes clearly unconvinced then he tilted his head. "And the man that hurt mummy? Is he dead?"

I held my breath for a beat as he locked eyes with me waiting for an answer.

"Yes," I replied.

His face didn't change as he dropped the next bomb. "Can we kill him again?"

"What?" I blurted, stunned.

He repeated it, calmy this time, his voice too innocent for what he was asking. "Can we kill him again?"

"No," I said immediately.

He frowned, confused. "But he hurt her."

"I know, but—" I slapped a hand over my mouth, rubbing at it as my gaze flicked to Leah, then back at him. "We can't kill someone who's already dead."

The fuck is 'we'?

"And your mummy would be sad if she heard you say that," I added.

Knowing Leah, she would be afraid to look at Roman when she woke up. She would cry scared of what he thought of her after he witnessed her kill someone.

He blinked. "What did I say?"

I studied the confused look on his face for a moment, shocked that I might have believed it if I hadn't heard his words myself, then let out a weak, breathless chuckle.

This little brat.

He rolled his eyes at me like I was the unreasonable one, then turned his back on me completely, stepping closer to the bed and nudging my hand away to hold Leah's.

"I'll get stronger," he said, his voice small but certain. "And I'll protect mummy myself."

His words twisted something in my chest. It wasn't a promise but a declaration.

I lifted him up, and he immediately squirmed just like Leah did muttering for me to let him go.

"Relax," I murmured, lowering him onto the other side of the bed beside Leah.

"There. Now you're closer to her," I smirked.

He huffed, taking her two hands in his, gripping them as if to keep me away.

I shook my head faintly, chuckling.

Your mummy has tried. Death has tried, but nothing has been able to keep her away from me.

The buzzing in my pocket jerked me awake.

For a split second, panic flooded me for sleeping instead of watching her. I checked her first to make sure she was still breathing, then Roman, who was now sleeping beside her, his tiny fingers wrapped tightly around one of hers.

My phone buzzed again, and I pulled it out, Storm's name on the screen.

"Where the hell are you?" Storm demanded the second I picked up.

"At the hospital," I replied quietly, closing the bathroom door behind me.

"The fuck happened?"

I shut my eyes and rubbed my temple. "It's Leah. She was attacked. She—" my voice broke as I turned to the mirror, clenching my fist hard to smash against the mirror but stopping myself.

"The bastard messed up her face and broke a rib."

There was a pause before Strom asked, his voice lower now, "how is she?"

"I think she is okay," I said.

"And the bastard who hurt her?"

"She killed him before I got there."

"Right, she has always been a fighter."

Another pause. "Laura wants to talk to you."

My chest tightened painfully remembering I'd promised her I'd read her bedtime stories tonight.

"Daddy?" Her voice came soft and sleepy through the line.

"Yes, princess."

"When are you coming home?"

I leaned my forehead against the mirror. "Daddy has something he has to take care of tonight."

"So you're not coming home?"

The hurt in her voice sliced deeply and I closed my eyes. "Daddy will come see you tomorrow, okay?"

She sniffed. "Okay, Daddy."

When the call ended, I stood there for a moment longer staring at my reflection and breathing through the crushing weight pressing down on my chest before stepping back into the room.

I pulled a blanket over Roman before going to sit beside Leah again. My thumb brushed over the white gauze wrapped around her hand, then lifted it slowly and pressed my lips there.

When I looked up, her eyes were open, staring blankly.

"Leah," I said immediately, my heart racing as I leaned forward.

Her gaze slid to me, confusion flickering before they widened. She gasped, jerking upright and cried out instantly, her hands flying to her side. Her breath came out in sharp, broken pulls as panic ripped through her.

"Roman," she rasped. "Where's Roman?"