“I’ll be in the waiting room.” He slaps my shoulder and pauses next to me. “And I’m warning you now, she won’t be happy to see you when she wakes up. You’ve got some work to do.”

I nod and push her door open, step inside and feel my stomach fall to my knees.

There are monitors beeping and wires running under her hospital gown to her body. Her face is white and scratched. Her hair is matted with dried blood.

Her left arm is in a sling and on her right index finger is a clip with a red light on it that seems to monitor her temperature.

She looks small and frail and it brings me to my knees.

I lower myself into the chair at the side of her bed, lean over and grip her uninjured hand in my own, bring it to my lips, and kiss her knuckles. Her skin is soft and I can smell her lavender and vanilla body wash.

I press her hand against my cheek and gaze into her face.

“Hey, Legs.” I clear my throat and glance up at the heart monitor, mesmerized by the blip, blip, blip of the machine. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

She doesn’t stir. I kiss her palm and lay my head on her stomach and for the first time in as long as I can remember, I let tears come.

Please, baby, forgive me.

Chapter Twenty

~Brynna~

Everything hurts.

Everything.

I’m fighting against the heavy weight of sleep. I want to wake up and see my babies. My eyes are so heavy, but I blink them open and then slam them shut against the light in the room.

It feels super bright, although I know it probably isn’t. My head is killing me.

My shoulder is on fire.

I try to move my head, but it just aches and I feel myself moan in protest.

“Bryn?”

My eyes open again at the sound of his voice, and I stare at him in awe.

“Am I dreaming?” I ask, my voice unrecognizable.

He shakes his head and kisses my hand, then leans forward and kisses my forehead, making me moan again.

“Head hurts,” I whisper.

“I know, baby. I’ll call the nurse.”

When I look up at him again, I frown at the worry in his eyes. What’s wrong?

“Kids?” I whisper.

“They’re fine. Your parents took them home a little while ago, but they’ll come see you tomorrow.”

My mouth is dry, and now the room is starting to spin. I whimper.

“Ms. Vincent, you’re awake.” A nurse bustles in and checks the monitors.

“Hurts,” I mutter softly.

“I’m going to give you some more medicine. You’ll sleep for a while.”

She pushes some buttons and my veins feel warm and I sleep folds around me again.

“Love you,” I hear Caleb whisper, but I can’t make my mouth move as sleep claims me.

***

Someone is holding my hand. It’s probably Stacy or my mom. I wish I didn’t have to take so many meds that make me sleep so much.

My head has gone from a hard, pounding throb to just an ache. My shoulder is still screaming.

“Had a dream,” I whisper, keeping my eyes closed. It feels so much better when I just keep them closed.

Mom or Stacy gently brushes my hair off my forehead.

“I dreamed he was here,” I whisper and feel a tear fall. “Why do I keep dreaming about him? When is it going to stop?”

“I’m so sorry, baby.”

I open my eyes and gasp when I see Caleb sitting beside me, leaning his elbows on my bed. I cry out in pain at the abrupt movement and he curses.

“Don’t move, Bryn.”

“What are you doing here?” And why did I just say that in front of you?

“You’re hurt,” he responds, as if that explains everything.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” My voice is gravel and the dull ache has returned to a pounding throb in my head.

“Brynna, I didn’t know you were hurt until I got here. I was coming home for you, baby.”

I frown and stare at him.

“Who said I wanted you?”

He clenches his eyes shut and kisses my hand, but I tug it out of his grasp.

“I don’t want you here, Caleb.”

“Look, Brynna.”

“Shut up,” I mutter and close my eyes, turning my head away from him, embarrassed and hurt and not ready or willing to trust him. “Go away.”

“Please,” he whispers.

“Go away!” I yell and wince as I wrench my shoulder with the movement and reduce myself to tears. “Just go.”

“I don’t want to leave you.”

“Get the hell out of here!”

“Mr. Montgomery, you need to leave,” the nurse insists as she comes in my room. “She’s in too much pain to be this upset.”

“Let me just sit with you,” he pleads, his voice rough with pain, but all I can do is cry and shake my head.

“Go,” I whisper around my tears.

“Please, Mr. Montgomery. Your family is still in the waiting room.”

“I want my mom,” I cry.

“I’ll send her in, sweetheart.” He stands and kisses my forehead. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

“Go,” I whisper again.

He leaves the room. I lay and cry in silence, trying not to jar my body too much, but unable to stop the flow of tears. Finally after several long minutes, my mom pushes through the door and hurries to my side.

“I’m so sorry, sweet girl.” She kisses my cheek and gently strokes my hand in hers. “He loves you, honey.”

“I don’t want him,” I whisper.

“Your tears say something different.”

“He left me, Mom.”

“I know. He’s just a stupid man, Brynna.”

I gingerly turn my head and look at my mom through swollen eyes.

“I can’t have him hurt my girls again, Mom,” I whisper.

“I know. Don’t worry about it now. Rest and get strong so you can go home and take care of your girls.”

“Are they really okay?” I ask her.

“They are fine. Nothing that time won’t heal.” She offers me a reassuring smile. “Your father just took them home to bed.”

“Good,” I sigh. “I’m thirsty.”

“I’ll get you some fresh water,” the nurse replies and hurries out of the room.

“Did they find him?” I ask my mom.

“Yes. He’s been arrested and from what Matt said, he’s ratting out the others in Chicago.” She squeezes my hand I am reduced to tears once again. “You’re safe, darling girl.”