Cassius came to stand beside me. “He’ll never get a chance to get ahead in life, now,” he commented, using the toe of his shoe to point to the dead guy’s skull.
Twisting around, I stared at him.
“Get it? Ahead? His head?”
I raised a brow. “Really. You got jokes, now?”
“I’ve always got jokes.” He shrugged.
“Right…” I cleared my throat. “Get your head in the game. Come on.”
We started walking down the corridor, avoiding the pool of blood that had spread around the body.
“Cade!”
My brother’s urgent shout from the doorway sent me spinning around, and I was standing in front of him before I was even aware I’d moved. “What? Is it Winter?”
He handed me his phone. “It’s Kinslee.”
Kinslee? I held the phone to my ear. “What?”
“Caiden. Fuck. I’m so glad I got hold of you guys.” Her voice was shaky. “I’m…I’m at the hospital. With Winter. Not the local hospital; I’m at Lansdown General. Can you come?”
Winter. “On my way,” I said brusquely, then ended the call, handing the phone to Weston. “Let’s go. Winter’s at Lansdown General Hospital.”
She was in hospital.
With Kinslee.
Safe.
I fucking hoped.
“Why not the local hospital? What the fuck is going on?”
I had no answer for Cassius. And at the moment, I didn’t care. I needed Winter to be okay. That was the only thing on my mind.
We pulled into the hospital car park forty minutes later, and West called Kinslee to find out where to go. After getting lost following her instructions, we eventually ended up in the waiting room of a large ward, all white, sterile walls, and blue padded chairs with metal frames.
Kinslee appeared in the corridor, her hair pulled back, dressed in yoga pants and a thick jumper. She crooked a finger at us, exhaustion clear in her face.
I raced over to her. “Where is she?” I didn’t bother with pleasantries—I needed to see Winter. Now.
“Come on.” I followed her down the corridor to a small, private room. She opened the door.
Snowflake.
Whoever did this to her was going to fucking pay.
FIVE
I blinked my eyes open, wincing at the bright light.
Everything hurt.
I slipped back into the darkness.
“Water.” I croaked the word, my voice hoarse and cracked from disuse. I squinted, the room slowly coming into focus.
“Winter.” Kinslee leaned into me, her amber eyes full of concern.
“Hi,” I whispered.
She stared at me, relief clear in her gaze. “How are you feeling?” She handed me a paper cup brimming with cool liquid, and I eagerly gulped it down, letting it soothe my parched throat.
“Okay. I think.” I continued to whisper, still weak and in pain. Fuck, my head hurt, so much.
My eyes were drawn to a chair in the corner of the room, a familiar presence dominating the space, despite him being asleep.
“He’s been here almost the whole time. Ever since I called him. The others brought him a change of clothes and whatever, but he’s barely left your side, except when he’s been forced to.”
My stomach flipped. He’d stayed with me?
“All of the Four have been here, on and off.” Kinslee’s eyes sparkled. “Your room is incredibly popular with the nurses.”
“I can’t imagine why,” I managed to husk out.
I groaned, the pain overtaking me again, spots dancing in front of my eyes. The blackness pulled me under.
The next time I woke up, I felt almost normal, other than the pounding pain in my skull and a throbbing in my cheek. The first thing I saw was Caiden. His head rested on my bed, his thick, raven hair close to my fingertips. I stretched out my hand, running it through the soft strands. Was I dreaming?
His head shot up from the bed.
“Snowflake?”
“Yes.” I breathed out the word, attempting to pull him closer to me, with whatever amount of strength I had left.
“Fuck.” His voice cracked, and he gathered me in his arms, so carefully it made me catch my breath. What was going on?
I was surrounded by him. All powerful male, his presence strong and reassuring. He kissed my head softly, his arms tightening around me.
What?
This wasn’t Caiden. He didn’t act like this.
I must be dreaming.
I let oblivion overtake me.
“So, how long have you worked here?”
I awoke, completely conscious, my mind more or less clear. Kinslee was seated on a plastic chair next to me, her eyes on a good-looking male nurse who was checking the clear bag that was connected to my arm by a long tube.
“Morning,” I croaked, and both their heads snapped round to me. I smirked at the identical expressions of shock on their faces.
“You’re awake. I’ll get the doctor,” the nurse mumbled, rushing out of the room.
“Kins? What’s going on?”
“You had an…accident. Don’t tell the doctors anything,” she hissed urgently. “We’ll get to the bottom of this afterwards, okay?”
“Yep.” I agreed, my senses on high alert. As high as they could be, anyway, after dragging myself out of unconsciousness. “Is there any water? My throat hurts.”
Kinslee stood. “Yeah, there’s a dispenser just outside. I’ll get you some.” As she disappeared out of the room, I noticed Weston huddled in a chair in the corner, asleep. A memory flashed through my mind—Caiden asleep in that same chair. Then…Caiden next to my bed, pulling me into his arms. Did I dream that, or did it really happen?
As if that thought had unlocked something in my mind, memory after memory came flooding back to me. Being knocked out. The cold, dark basement. My captor.
My breath caught in my throat.
I gasped. My heart rate kicked up, sending the monitor I was attached to crazy, and a nurse came rushing in. I made an effort to slow my heart rate, breathing deeply in and out, silently counting from one to ten and blocking everything else from my mind. The nurse checked my blood pressure and monitored my heart rate on the machine for a few minutes before leaving, satisfied that I was okay. Kinslee, who had appeared back in the room during my panic episode, handed me a plastic cup of water, and I drank it gratefully.
I stayed mostly silent as various doctors and nurses came in and out of the room throughout the day, running checks, asking me questions I had no answer for. Throughout it all, one of the Four was always with me, a constant, silent presence that the medical staff were unable to persuade to leave.
Eventually they agreed to let me go after a night of observation—I was okay, medically, and as a legal adult, they couldn’t keep me there any longer. Since I’d had a mild concussion, apparently, I was lectured on self-care and given a list of all the fun things I shouldn’t do in the near future—including skiing, skydiving and riding a motorbike (sorry, Zayde). Not that any of the things they mentioned to me were likely to happen, especially not now, when I had way more important priorities to worry about.