Chapter 263
Chapter 263
She repeated the same words over and over, her voice fading, the last syllables crumbling in her throat.
Gerald looked at her face—so close to breaking apart—and his throat moved once. Then he gathered her up and stood.
Sophia curled into the crook of his arms, fingers spasming against his collar, lips still moving but making no sound.
Gerald carried her out of the room, down the stairs.
Night air hit them. The body in his arms shuddered. Her forehead pressed against his chest, burning hot.
Victor had the car waiting at the entrance, rear door open.
Gerald set her inside, climbed in after her, and yanked the seatbelt across.
"Nearest hospital. Fastest route."
The engine roared. The car tore into the night.
Sophia leaned against his shoulder, curled into herself, breathing fast, lips trembling.
Gerald looked down and cradled her head against him.
The car blew through every light, siren wailing.
Sophia's fingers clenched and released, clenched and released, until finally all the strength drained away and she went still.
She'd lost consciousness.
Gerald carried her through the emergency entrance at a run. Doctors swarmed forward, a gurney appeared, and Sophia was lifted from his arms—
---
The VIP room was silent except for the steady beep of the heart monitor.
Sophia lay in bed, deathly pale, but her breathing had steadied.
The doctor had just been in. Sophia had been given a detox treatment. She was out of danger physically, but the combined mental and physical exhaustion meant she'd need time to come around.
The doctor and nurses filed out, closing the door behind them.
Gerald sat in the chair on the left side of the bed, elbows on his knees, eyes locked unblinking on Sophia's closed lids.
His hand was wrapped in gauze now. The blood on his shirt cuffs had dried to dark brown crusts.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor, growing closer.
The door opened. Caspian stood in the doorway.
He saw Sophia's bloodless face against the pillow and his pupils contracted sharply.
Then his gaze cut to Gerald. Their eyes collided in the silence—soundless, yet something seemed to shatter between them.
Caspian walked in and went straight to the right side of the bed. He sat in the other chair.
One man on each side. The bed between them.
"Who did this?" Caspian's voice was low.
"None of your damn business." Gerald's tone was flat.
Caspian's fist tightened. He turned to look at Sophia.
She was still unconscious, brow faintly creased, as if even in sleep she was trying to escape something.
He reached out to brush the tangled hair from her temple.
His fingertips hadn't touched her skin when a hand shot across and locked around his wrist.
Gerald pulled him back.
"Don't touch her."
Caspian looked down at the grip on his wrist, then raised his eyes. "You let this happen to her, and you have the nerve to say that?"
"The one who should be ashamed is you. If it weren't for your company's mess, she never would have been there."
Gerald shoved him back. "I'm warning you—she's Sophia. My wife. The mother of my son. Her business is none of your concern."
Caspian held his ground, unyielding. "Whatever she is to you, she's her own person first. If you hadn't been dragging your feet on the divorce, she'd be free by now. Someone who doesn't even respect her—what right do you have to be with her?"
Gerald turned his head and pinned Caspian with a stare.
"Caspian. Say that again."
"I said—" Caspian rose to his feet, looking down at him. "You don't deserve her."
He grabbed Gerald's shoulder and wrenched him sideways, his other fist driving toward Gerald's midsection.
Gerald twisted away and countered.
They fought from one side of the bed to the other. An IV stand toppled between them, the metal pole clanging against the floor.
A cut opened at the corner of Caspian's mouth. A bruise bloomed across Gerald's cheekbone.
The door swung open from outside. A nurse stood in the doorway holding a tray of fresh medication, frozen in place, mouth hanging open.
"Um... time to change the IV..."
Her voice shook like paper in the wind.
Both men stopped at once.
Gerald glanced toward the bed. Sophia still lay quiet, but her brow was pinched tighter than before, as if some sound had disturbed her.
He released Caspian's collar.
Caspian released Gerald's wrist.
They each stepped back half a pace, their gazes falling simultaneously on the pale face between them.
The nurse crept in, swapped the IV bag with efficient hands, checked the monitor readings, confirmed everything was normal, and scurried out with her head down.
Silence reclaimed the room.
Caspian wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his thumb, his eyes still on Sophia.
Gerald walked to the edge of the bed. He bent down, slid one hand beneath Sophia's knees and the other behind her back, and lifted her from the mattress.
Her head tipped naturally against his chest, settling into the hollow of his neck.
Gerald secured his hold and strode toward the door.
"What are you doing?" Caspian's eyes went wide. He lunged after them.
Two black-suited figures stepped into the doorway, blocking his path.
Gerald turned, Sophia in his arms.
"She's my wife. I'm taking her home. Stop worrying about her."
The door closed behind him.
Gerald carried Sophia down the corridor. In his arms, her eyes stayed shut, her shallow breath ghosting across the side of his neck...
---
Harsh daylight knifed through the gap in the curtains.
Sophia frowned. Consciousness floated up through murky water.
Her head throbbed.
She tried moving her fingers. They brushed unfamiliar sheets—cool, high-thread-count fabric carrying a faint, crisp scent.
She recognized it.
Gerald's.
Sophia's eyes flew open.
She pushed herself up on her elbows. The blanket slipped to her waist. She was wearing an unfamiliar white nightgown.
Memory crashed back like shattered glass.
Blue Moon Diner. The door smashed open.
William's face bearing down on her. Gerald standing before her, hands covered in blood.
Her own fingers twisted in his collar, saying over and over, "Take me to the hospital."
Sophia closed her eyes.
The bedroom door opened from outside.
Gerald stood in the doorway in a clean black shirt, a glass of warm water in his hand. Seeing her upright, he crossed the room in quick strides.
"You're awake?"
He set the water on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed.
Sophia shifted away.
"Where am I?"
"My room. The doctor said you needed rest. The hospital was too noisy, so I brought you here."
Sophia's fingers tightened on the blanket's edge.
"Who said you could take matters into your own hands?"