She stares at me closely, and I watch the defeat dawn on her. She’s been beaten, her life is in shambles, and I’m her only chance.
She may have his baby, but she’ll never have him. Finally, she realizes.
Her eyes rake up and down me once again and land on my engagement ring, then travel up, taking in my expensive silk robe and haggard appearance. The room goes still as she locks eyes with me.
“There’s no more hope.”
“Not for you and Shaw. Not for Maria and Seth who can’t even say your name. And especially not for Mathis and Nicky who can’t stand the air you breathe. Now’s the time to focus on your son, getting well, and finding a way to raise him in a loving home. Shaw and I won’t settle for anything less than that. You’ve lost your marker. Shaw’s done with you, I’m the only hope you have right now to calm him down.”
She nods and her chest starts to tremble I watch in awe as tears stream down her cheeks. It’s amazing to me she’s capable of defeated emotions.
“I’m really sorry, Lizbeth, and I can’t figure out why in the hell you would be here to help me. Thank you.”
“Don’t take my kindness lightly, Sasha. I’m doing this for Brayden, but if you fuck up ever again, in any way, I won’t stop Shaw’s wrath. This is my one and only favor I’ll ever offer. Get a life, get a grip, and for God’s sake, get over your shit.” I don’t say another word, but spin and walk out, needing the support of the wheelchair.
It wasn’t the apology I’ve craved for all these years, but it was still an apology. And I’m completely at peace with that.
Now, I need to hold up my end of the bargain, which won’t be easy.
Claire wheels me back praising me the whole way. She stops short about three feet from my door and clutches onto my good shoulder. She doesn’t have to say anything, because I sense it, too. There’s a heat in the air rolling out of my open door. My stomach flips a few times as I stand, and she helps me walk into the hospital room.
Shaw’s leaning against the window seal, his arms and legs crossed, staring at the doorway with fire flaming in his eyes. The hair on my arms prickles under the intensity of his glare.
I tense, Claire holding my elbow with a trembling hand. She’s heard many stories, but never felt the Shaw Bennett rage. She’s about to.
“Lizbeth.” His tone is sharp and intimidating.
“Shaw, you’re back early,” slips from my mouth.
Bad choice of words.
“I’m sure that’s a surprise, considering you practically forced me to go home. Never did I imagine my sweet, caring, and loving fiancée was calculating a plan to confront the very bitch who nearly killed her!”
“Stop being so dramatic,” I hiss. “And lower your voice.”
Once again, wrong thing to say.
His eyes cut to Claire. “I think you should go. I need to speak to Bizzy, privately.”
Her hand tenses. “I’m not leaving her here with you if you’re going to yell at her.”
“It’s okay, Claire. Just help me get into bed. He’s not going to yell at me anymore, because he’s going to listen to what I have to say.”
We start to move, but Shaw is at my side in a flash, lifting me gently and motioning to Claire to pull the sheets back. Anger radiates from him, but he handles me like crystal, situating the pillows to prop my brace and cushion my ribs. Then he brushes his lips across my bruised cheek tenderly.
“You can go now, Claire. We’ll be fine.” I give her a reassuring hand squeeze.
She leaves, but not before throwing Shaw an evil glance full of warning.
He ignores her, sitting on the bed and leaning over me, completely caging me in. “Do you know the panic I felt when I got here and found this room empty and your phone left behind, only to find your wheelchair parked outside the room of the woman I hate most in this world?”
“You weren’t supposed to come back so early.”
“That’s your explanation? How about telling me why the fuck you went there?”
His jaw ticks and a vein on his forehead starts to turn red. I place my hand on his chest, feeling his heart race against my palm. “Calm down.”
“I’m pretty proud of myself right now for my level of calm. Inside, I’m scorching with rage. There