Two weeks since I’d finally kissed Madison Kate the way I’d been wanting to for an entire year.
Two weeks since she’d run from us, crashed my car, then suffered a brutal attack at the Laughing Clown.
Two weeks since she’d looked at me with such horror on her face, while blood dripped from her fingers. Pure undiluted terror in her gorgeous violet-blue eyes.
Two weeks since I’d almost lost her forever.
Then again, maybe I had…
“Why isn’t she home yet?” I grumbled aloud, looking at the time on my watch for what seemed like the hundredth time in the space of an hour. “You said she was getting discharged at ten, right?” I looked over at Arch, and he just glared back at me. His face was still showing the splotchy purple and green bruises from the ass kicking he’d taken in the octagon last week. Served him fucking right for fighting while distracted.
“You know that’s what the hospital said,” he replied in a growly, irritated tone. Well, fuck him. It was his fault we weren’t there to pick her up ourselves. We should be.
It'd been two weeks since Madison Kate had collapsed at Steele's feet, that gut wrenching expression of fear on her face. Two weeks since we’d loaded her unconscious body into our stolen vehicle and rushed her to the hospital, covered in blood from her head wound and the deep stab in her abdomen.
It'd been one week since she’d woken up. Since she’d seen Archer sitting beside her bed and screamed.
That sound still chilled me when I heard it in my dreams. She'd been hysterical, and the nurses had ended up sedating her again. Arch had left the room and not returned once. Not that he could have... We'd all been stricken from her permitted visitors list and no amount of bribes or threats had changed that.
Madison Kate had accused us of attacking her. When the sedatives had worn off, the police had spoken with her. She’d pointed the finger at the three of us. Except, we'd already been questioned and cleared. Par for the course when three guys turn up to a hospital in the middle of the night with a blood-soaked heiress.
The police in charge of her case had assured us that they'd communicated this to her. But as the days had ticked by and the silence stretched, our unease had built.
"She's not coming back here," Steele said in a quiet voice. His fingertips drummed on the arm of his sofa, and I could tell he was itching to play again. To compose. But in some fucked-up self-punishment, he was holding himself back.
"You don't know that," Archer snapped. He was pissed off, and I didn't blame him. "She's stubborn, like a splinter. She'll come back just to be an infuriating bitch and stand her ground here in her house."
Steele shook his head, giving Arch the kind of pitying look that was likely to get him punched. "You can only hope, bro. I'm going for a run. All this waiting around is getting me fucking anxious."
He left the room with a heavy, defeated sigh. Neither Arch nor I said anything to stop him, either. What the fuck could we even say? Steele was hurting, that much was obvious. He'd given MK space after her stalker had threatened him, but now he was regretting all the unfinished business between them.
So was I, for that matter. I was regretting all kinds of unfinished business with MK, and it was driving me crazy.
Arch? Who the fuck knew what was going on inside his head. He still maintained his delusional opinion that MK was some kind of spoiled brat that deserved a few hard knocks in life. But then... why'd he sit beside her bed around the clock while she was unconscious? Why'd he lose his debut UFC fight after she'd woken up screaming that morning?
"Maybe we should call the hospital again," I suggested, feeling utterly hopeless. She should have been home by now.
Arch rolled his eyes and sighed, like I was being a pest, but he still pulled out his phone and hit redial. He placed the phone to his ear, and I tried really hard not to fidget while waiting. I knew the drill by now. He'd have to speak to the right person to get information, now that we'd been removed from her list. It could take a few moments.
Steele's feet thumped on the stairs as he jogged back down, and I went to intercept